Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother Novel Book 4)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  “Witnesses?” I muse.

  “Yeah.”

  I sigh. “I have no idea how we’re meant to review this date. It’s not real now it’s you here. It’s just having lunch with a friend.”

  “Why did you say ‘friend’ like you tasted something sour?”

  “Let’s not get into it,” I warn him, smiling sweetly when Clayton looks over.

  “Well, why not treat this like an ordinary date,” he tells me, running his finger along my forearm on the table. “You can use me however you like.”

  I run my finger around the stem of my glass, fluttering my lashes at him when I see Clayton watching us, his lips set in a firm line.

  “And just how would you like me to use you?”

  Reid, forever the charmer, smirks. “I can think of a few things.”

  I laugh, pulling back. “Honestly, as shocked as I am that you’re here, I’m kind of glad. I’ve been dreading this whole thing from the moment I was informed.”

  “What is it that you do? Because everything I could come up with as to why you’re being paid to go on dates all end up with me being thrown into your brother’s trunk and dumped in the middle of nowhere.”

  I clip him around the ear. “Thanks, arsehole. And they did that two times. You make it sound like their hobby.”

  “Sorry,” he grimaces, rubbing his ear. “From what I heard, they enjoy it.”

  My family do like making the men I date work for it. But to be fair, the last guy they did it to was to save him from my dad. The arsehole read my message wrong and met me at my house.

  I hold my finger up, indicating I need a minute when my phone lights up once again with a message from Clayton.

  CLAYTON: We should just pull the plug on this. We can figure something out with Date Night after.

  CLAYTON: Did you just hit him? Want me to come over?

  HAYDEN: I’m fine. And no, he had a bug on his ear.

  CLAYTON: I’m going to cancel this whole thing.

  HAYDEN: I’m good. Unless your date isn’t up to par?

  CLAYTON: This isn’t about my date.

  HAYDEN: Well, don’t do it on my account. I’m okay.

  CLAYTON: Fine!

  HAYDEN: FINE!

  I take in a calming breath. “Sorry, it’s my boss checking in.”

  “The guy with the hot date behind us?”

  I look at the woman in question. I guess she’s pretty. In a snotty way. “Yeah, and she’s not hot.”

  “Um, yes she is. If I didn’t want to play you up so badly, I’d go chat her up in the car park. She looks like the type who wouldn’t mind being fucked in a car.”

  “Well, good for you, but she’s not his type.”

  Reid snorts. “She’s everyone’s type.”

  I scrunch my nose up, still watching her. “Why is she laughing? The guy doesn’t even know what a joke is.”

  “Holy fuck, you like him.”

  I want to wipe the smug smile from his face. “What? That’s absurd.”

  He laughs, earning annoyed glances from other diners. “Then why do you keep staring at him and judging his date? You sound jealous. And let’s not forget, you’ve paid more attention to what he’s doing than what I am.”

  “Shut up. You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. He’s my boss.”

  “What is it that you do? Because I’m seriously fucking enjoying this. Hayden Carter, rattled by her boss.”

  I smile sweetly so Clayton doesn’t know I’m about to kick this guy in the nuts. “Don’t forget, I know where you sleep, Reid.” I take a deep breath. “And I work at a station doing a podcast. At the minute, we’re doing a segment on Date Night.”

  His expression drops, before a look of disbelief crosses his face. “That’s it? That’s what you do?”

  “Yes,” I hiss. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else.”

  He holds his hands up. “I wasn’t planning to.” I arch my eyebrow. “Okay, if it was more exciting, then yeah, I was going to brag to your brother that I know and he doesn’t.”

  I snort. “It’s Landon. He probably already knows. Not much gets past him.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he mutters.

  The waitress steps up to our table with a tray of food, and I look at Reid questioningly. He shrugs, seeming as stumped as me. “Here are your starters.”

  “We’ve not ordered anything,” I tell her apologetically.

  She smiles away my concern. “It was pre-ordered by Mr Cross,” she explains, putting a bowl and a plate of bread in front of Reid. “For you, sir: pea and mint soup. For you: Cornish crab on toasted crumpet. Please let me know if there is anything else you need.”

  She leaves, and all I can do is stare at the disaster in front of me, whimpering. “I want a menu with real food on it.”

  “I think your boss hates you,” Reid mutters.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because mine looks like a bowl of vomit and yours… I don’t even have words. I can tell you that doesn’t look like crab, more like skinned balls.”

  I swallow the bile in my throat at the picture he just painted. Because believe it or not, it does look like a ball sack. Skinned.

  I whimper again when my stomach rumbles. “Why would people pay a fortune for this?”

  “Where’s the steak?” Reid complains, stirring the spoon in the bowl.

  I glare over at Clayton, who is happily sipping on what I assume is soup.

  HAYDEN: Do you know what fucking century we live in?

  CLAYTON: Yes, of course.

  HAYDEN: Then who the hell gave you permission to order for me? I can order my own damn food. A rat wouldn’t eat this.

  CLAYTON: Funny. Cassandra is fully enjoying her starter.

  HAYDEN: Cassandra can choke on it.

  Not one to let food go to waste, unless Charlotte had a hand in making it, I grab my fork, praying it doesn’t taste as bad as it looks. Or for the kitchen to suddenly set on fire and get me out of this whole ordeal. Because if they all come out looking like this, I’ll be grabbing something from a drive-through on the way home.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The restaurant has picked up somewhat since we first arrived, yet the atmosphere stays calm and relaxed.

  The waitress leaves after dropping off a sticky toffee pudding for me and a chocolate, chestnut truffle cake for Reid. I’m not complaining. It’s the most appetising part of the menu. It even smells delicious, and I can’t help but eye it as I lick my lips.

  “Is it just me or are they really stingy with the portions?” Reid comments, pouting down at his dessert.

  Chuckling, I nod in agreement. There isn’t enough here to satisfy a toddler.

  “If this place didn’t cost a fortune, I would think they were rationing the food.”

  Reid’s remark goes unheard when, from the corner of my eye, Clayton stands with his date and leads her over to the hostess desk, where the waitress hands over her coat.

  He’s seriously going to leave with her? She’s really his type? All she’s done is laugh and basically throw herself at him. Who acts like that on the first date? She could at least pretend to act normal.

  “That fucker is leaving me,” I grit out, slamming my fork down once they leave the restaurant together, his arm around her waist.

  Reid scans the room, probably looking for the guy who has been giving him problems. “Who?”

  “My boss,” I tell him, kicking him under the table when he continues to glare over my shoulder.

  Reid shrugs, going back to his pudding. “The dude is probably fucking her in his car.”

  “He didn’t drive,” I snap. “And give me that.”

  He pulls his plate out of reach, covering it with his arm. “No! I shared all my dinner with you. Sod off. I’m fucking starving.”

  “You fed bits to me to try.” I pout, fluttering my lashes. “Just one bite?”

  “No. I only did that ‘cause I could feel the jealousy rolling off you
r boss. I’m surprised there isn’t a knife in my back.”

  True. Not about the jealously, but about Clayton not looking happy the few times I caught him looking over. I’m not convinced it was jealously, like Reid, who spent the entire dinner feeding me bits off his fork, lightly touching my hand or running his finger along my arm.

  “You’re an arsehole.”

  He grins like it’s a huge achievement. “Thanks.”

  Picking my phone up, I go to text Lily, to ask her to pick me up, knowing she doesn’t gossip, but Reid snatches it off me.

  “Don’t go texting him. You aren’t desperate. Don’t start now.”

  “He was my ride home, and since he left, I need someone to drive me home. I was going to text Lily.”

  “She and Jaxon have gone ice skating tonight,” he informs me, and I groan. “And isn’t your car outside?”

  “Yes, but I’ve had a drink.”

  His eyebrows scrunch together. “Did you drink drive here, because I’ve only seen you have one. One won’t hurt.”

  “I don’t like drink driving,” I tell him.

  He laughs at my expense. “That’s not drink driving.”

  “I don’t care what the limit is, I just don’t like doing it. Although I have eaten.” My thoughts drift off, wondering if the restaurant’s stingy portions were enough to soak up the drink I had.

  “Jesus,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I’ve had two and I’m fine. I’ll drive you home.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, because that makes a lick of difference.”

  “Come on, I’ll take you home,” he offers, trying to blackmail me by waving his fork with a chunk of truffle cake on in my face.

  I would have said yes without the offer of food, but he doesn’t need to know that. I lean forward, lips parted, ready to taste the yummy goodness, when my chair is pulled away from the table.

  I look over my shoulder. “What the…” Clayton’s powerful frame looms over us, and he does not look best pleased. “I thought you left with your date.”

  “We need to leave,” he informs me shortly.

  “I’ve not finished with my date.”

  “Oh, your date’s over.”

  My jaw drops at the audacity. This is how I pictured my dad reacting, though there would be more hand movements and crazy rants.

  “No, it’s not, mate,” Reid pipes in, and I send him a warning glance to shut up.

  “I’m not your mate,” he bites back before glaring down at me. “Come, Hayden. I’ve already asked the waitress to get your coat.”

  “Go back to your date,” I snap, trying to shove my chair back under the table, but he doesn’t budge or loosen his grip. “What is your problem?”

  “There’s an emergency at work and Chrissy needs you.”

  “Me? What could she possibly have done that would need her to call me?”

  I’m stumped. The last time I tried to help Chrissy, I messed up her filing system and she went nuts. It took her weeks to put it back. It wasn’t my first fuck up, either, which is why I never get called if someone needs a helping hand in the office.

  “I’ll explain in the car.”

  Anger rolls off him as he continues to glare at Reid, unable to look at me. If he thinks he can blag a blagger, he’s wrong. Right now, he’s full of shit. He reeks of it. And unless he explains himself, I’m not going anywhere.

  “Well, unless you can tell me what is so important, I’m staying and finishing my date.”

  I manage to push my chair forward and silently gesture for Reid to give me the cake he promised.

  He cocks an eyebrow, his lips twisting together in amusement as he holds a bite out to me. I moan around the fork, sensually sliding my lips off the prongs. It tastes better than the sticky pudding, that’s for sure.

  “That’s it,” Clayton snaps, pulling my chair back out again. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  It’s like a bucket of ice water has been thrown over me. His words cut deep, cooling me to the core.

  I straighten in my chair, my focus solely on Reid as I try to make sense of the emotions trying to push through the anger. I’m hurt, embarrassed, but mostly, I’m fucking pissed.

  Reid winks, crossing his arms over his chest as he kicks back, acting like he’s sitting in front of a game.

  “Excuse me,” I whisper, deadly and stern, as I throw my serviette onto the table and stand.

  “This is over. We aren’t doing this anymore. We can find another way to help with Date Night.”

  Slowly, I face him, feeling my blood boil as it shoots through my veins. “I didn’t want to do this in the first place. I practically begged you not to. But I did. For your company. And yet, I’m the one being an embarrassment? I’m not the one who is making a scene.”

  “Surprising,” Reid mutters.

  I glare at him. “Shut up.”

  “Why are you still here?” Clayton snaps, before addressing me. “You were right. I shouldn’t have made you do this. But really, this guy? He hasn’t even defended you.”

  “If she were anyone else, I’d have punched you already for being a dickhead, but you’ve got enough on your hands with her right now. You just made a huge mistake,” Reid tells him, pushing up from his chair. “I’m going, but call me if you need me.”

  “She won’t,” Clayton snaps.

  Reid stares him down before shaking his head in pity.

  “I’ll see you soon, Hayden. Unless you’d like a lift home?”

  I go to take him up on the offer, wanting to get away from this situation. I mean, how dare he speak to me like this. I’ve done nothing but my job here.

  “I’ve got her,” Clayton assures him harshly.

  Reid ignores him, pointedly waiting for me to answer.

  “Let me get my coat.”

  Clayton grasps my arms, not tight, yet he’s not being gentle either. “Hayden, please.”

  I close my eyes at the desperation in his voice. I want to knee him in the balls, but something in the way he pleads… it calls to me. Something tells me it’s something he doesn’t do often.

  I don’t look away from Reid, searching his face like he’s got an answer for me. But he does nothing but wait, not giving me anything.

  I’m torn.

  “Hayden, please, let me drive you home.”

  I decide to stay, only to give him hell and to get answers.

  “I’m fine. You can go, Reid.” I don’t wait for him to leave before turning to Clayton and poking him in the chest. “This might be a work thing, but I’m not on the clock right now. And even if I was, it gives you no right to speak to me that way, you prick. I’ll wait outside for you,” I snap, spinning on my heels.

  The waitress from earlier stands near the podium, trying her hardest to avoid eye contact. She probably heard the entire thing.

  As I get closer, I notice the flush to her cheeks and snort to myself. Reid clearly chatted her up on his way out.

  “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” she comments, her voice quivering.

  “Yeah,” I reply snidely, curling my lip. “I’m sure I will.”

  I snatch my coat, my temper flaring the more I replay Clayton’s words and actions in my head.

  The bitter cold wind slaps my face as I storm into the dimly lit car park. My heel catches on some ice and my heart races.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as I try to catch my balance—and fail.

  Warm hands engulf me in a firm grip. “I got you.”

  Once I’m steady, I push Clayton away. “I’m so pissed at you. Livid. What gave you the right?”

  “He was all over you.”

  “It was a date,” I yell. “One you set up.”

  Disgust pours off him. “He was feeding you, touching you like he had a right. It was a first date. And you were lapping it up.”

  “What I do or don’t do isn’t your concern. I wasn’t embarrassing myself.”

  “No, he was embarrassing you,” he replies sharply. “He got the waitresses number w
hen you went to the ladies room.”

  “Like I give a shit. It’s Reid. He would flirt with his own grandma.”

  “You know him?”

  “Yes, which is why we were so comfortable with each other.”

  Something flashes upon his face, and he rubs the back of his neck. “My God, I don’t understand you at all.”

  A pain hits my chest. “Yeah, welcome to my club, you arsehole.”

  He reaches for me, the fight leaving his body. “Hayden...”

  I slap his hand away. “No, Clayton. You overstepped tonight and made me look like a fool.”

  “The guy is a player.”

  “Like you and your date could talk. You were all over each other. And her laugh… my God, could she be any more fake?”

  I lift my hand, ready to poke him in the chest, but this time he’s quick, grabbing my wrist and pulling me towards him. I lose my balance, falling against him and landing with my hands on his chest.

  The wind around us stills, the buzz from one of the streetlamps quietens, and in the mist of the dark night, there’s us.

  Just us.

  An unforeseeable force pushes us together and sparks shoot between us, searching for a current.

  Uncontrolled desire stares back at me, and before I can react, his hands are running along my jaw and up into my hair. He tilts my head up as he leans down—and presses his lips to mine.

  My body loosens as I run my hands up his arms, marvelling over his physique, before resting them on his shoulders.

  His kiss isn’t innocent. He isn’t teasing. It’s hot and passionate, like he’s dreamed of this moment his whole life.

  He’s showing me without words how he feels. So I show him back, pouring my everything into the moment.

  I run my hands over his shoulders, down to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart thump against my palm.

  Pulling away, he rests his forehead against mine, breathing heavily.

  “I’m sorry,” he rasps, his voice wavering.

  “Sorry?” I ask, still burning from that kiss.

  The sigh he lets slip is full of regret. “I’m your boss. This can’t happen.”

  It’s like being doused with ice cold water for the second time tonight. With my hand still on his chest, I push him away.