“I hear he’s made a new friend.”
Hayley knew this was coming, but she let a silence of her own drag out anyway. She wasn’t sure how to explain Ray or her jumbled feelings about him to either of her two closest friends. Finally, she just said, “Yes.”
“Oh, girlfriend. This sounds serious.”
“It does not. Stop it.” How could he infer anything from such a simple answer?
“Don’t matter,” Andre informed her. “I’ll be seeing for myself soon enough. I’ll make it my business while I’m there to see whether or not he’s Hayley-worthy.”
Hayley offered an unladylike snort at that. “I can answer that already. He’s probably too good for me.”
“Ain’t no such thing,” Andre stated firmly.
“Then let me put it this way. He’s too good to me.”
“And I repeat, there ain’t no such thing. Damn, girl, we got a lot of work to do undoing the number Trey did on you.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not going anywhere anyway because I’m only here temporarily.”
This statement caused another lull in the conversation. Somehow the ease with which she’d always conversed with Paige and Andre evaporated as soon as the topic of Ray was introduced. They were both concerned with her welfare, and they both seemed to think there was more going on with her and Ray than there actually was. Perhaps that stemmed from her inability to explain, even to herself, exactly what was developing between them. He lived next door. His mere presence caused the ripple effect. She liked him. Fletcher liked him. After kissing him that one time her feelings became a jumbled mess.
“You know, you don’t have to go to L.A.”
“Yes, I do. That’s the plan. This time I’m not deviating from the plan.”
“Plans can change,” Andre said gently.
“I know. But I need to start over. Get away from here. Reinvent myself.”
“You don’t need to reinvent nothing. You about perfect the way you are.”
Hayley laughed. “See, that’s why I love you. Because you think that. Listen, I need to go. We’ll talk more when you’re here, okay?”
They said their good-byes and disconnected. Before she fell asleep, Hayley decided it didn’t matter what Andre and Paige thought about whatever was happening with her and Ray. She’d be in Perrish only as long as it took to get Fletcher settled in an appropriate situation, and then she’d head to L.A. as planned. This…interlude in her life that included Ray would be just that. Brief. Pleasant. And in time, just a distant memory.
Chapter Fourteen
Hayley saw Ray sprawled under the big oak tree that shaded his half of the front yard the moment she pulled into the driveway several days later. A small fawn-colored dog jumped around next to him.
Hayley parked and got out of the car, then released Fletcher from his car seat. Fletcher saw Ray and made a beeline for him.
The puppy caught sight of Fletcher and stopped in its tracks, watching him approach. It backed up a couple of steps. Ray petted its back and spoke to it soothingly. “It’s okay. That’s Fletcher.”
Fletcher stopped a few feet away. Hayley paused behind him. “Hi.” Ray’s greeting included both of them. The puppy sidled up close to Ray and sat down. His whole body shook, as if he had a case of the DTs. Ray continued to stroke him.
“You can come closer,” he said to Fletcher in that same soothing tone. “He’s a little scared is all. Come and sit down.” He patted the grass on his opposite side. “He’ll get used to you.”
Fletcher did as Ray suggested, plunking himself down, never taking his eyes off the puppy.
Hayley moved closer and sat a few feet away. It was hot out there, like it always was this time of day with the humidity climbing toward a hundred percent. But the grass was like a soft green carpet, and with the shade from the tree, it was almost bearable to be outside.
“I got him from the shelter,” Ray informed her. He continued to pet the puppy’s medium brown fur which tapered to white on his underside. He had a square head and jowls, floppy ears and a cropped tail. His golden-brown eyes were wary but curious.
Hayley took a closer look at the dog and saw there were several hairless gray patches on his coat, and he was missing quite a few of his teeth. There was a ragged scar along the top of one of his ears. “He looks like someone beat him up.”
“I know. I came up with a great name for him, though. ‘Oscar’.”
At her questioning look he explained, “After Oscar de la Hoya.”
Hayley’s brows knit together. She’d heard the name before.
“He’s a boxer.” He pointed at the puppy. “And he’s a boxer.”
“Aaah.”
“I figured if I gave him a champ’s name, maybe he’d learn how to fight back when he had to. Stand up for himself, you know?”
The puppy had crawled a few inches in Fletcher’s direction. Fletcher sat still, watching the dog. The puppy continued to creep forward, a few inches at a time to where Fletcher sat cross-legged. Once he was close enough, the puppy sniffed and licked Fletcher’s knee. Fletcher twitched, but otherwise didn’t move.
Encouraged, the puppy stood and stepped closer, sniffing his way along Fletcher’s body, up his arm to his shoulder and neck. He began licking Fletcher’s ear. When Fletcher didn’t react, the puppy increased his efforts with enthusiasm, his pink tongue lathing Fletcher’s face, ear and neck, leaving a stream of puppy drool in its wake.
Fletcher smiled. He put his hands on the puppy’s shoulders, rubbing his fingers into the dog’s fur while the puppy slobbered all over him.
Hayley stared, her sudden intake of breath a signal to Ray. He cut his gaze to her. “He’s smiling.”
Ray grinned and glanced back at the boy and the dog. Fletcher fell back onto the grass. Sounds like muffled chortles emitted from him. Oscar pounced on him, nipping at his tee-shirt as best he could with his half-empty gums. Fletcher rolled over and the puppy stayed with him. He stood up, and so did Oscar, as if waiting to see what he’d do next. Fletcher took a couple of steps and the puppy followed. Once Fletcher figured out the dog would go where he went, he started into a little boy run around the yard. Oscar kept pace with him, jumping up at him every few feet. Fletcher smiled. Hayley was in awe. Tears filled her eyes. Maybe there was hope for Fletcher. Maybe there was hope for all of them. Including that abused little dog.
“What made you get a dog?” Hayley asked after a few minutes. She and Ray had been watching Fletcher interact with the puppy. They’d made a couple of circuits around the yard before plopping down in the shade of the tree in front of Hayley’s side of the duplex. The puppy was panting, and Fletcher’s face was flushed, his hair sweaty and mussed.
Ray didn’t answer immediately, and Hayley swung her gaze back to him. “I had one before Caroline and I got married. A boxer a lot like this one. Minus the scars and missing teeth. He and Caroline didn’t get along. I had to find another home for him.”
Hayley’s mouth dropped open. “She made you give up your dog?”
“No. It was my choice.” Ray’s tone had an edge to it. For some reason, he didn’t want her to think ill of his dead wife. Hayley tried not to. But she questioned Ray’s judgment. Shouldn’t he have determined that his wife wasn’t crazy about his dog before he married her? Or had he loved Caroline more than the dog? Had he sacrificed something important to him to show how much he loved her? And if so, had Caroline appreciated the gesture? Or had she merely considered it her due?
They sat for a few more minutes watching Fletcher and Oscar before Hayley stood. “I’m going in. I’m melting out here.” She glanced at the sky where gray clouds were gathering. “It’s going to rain pretty soon.” This time of year, it rained almost every afternoon or evening.
She called to Fletcher. Reluctantly he rose and came toward her with Oscar trailing him. Ray got to his feet. “I better take Oscar in and give him some water. Let him cool off.”
Hayley started toward her door and Ray headed
for his. Fletcher dragged his feet in a straight line until he was standing between the two entrances.
“Come on, Oscar,” Ray called. He bent down and clapped his hands. The puppy came to him. Fletcher’s face fell. He sent a pleading look in Hayley’s direction, clearly unhappy to be separated from his new friend.
Ray looked up and took in Fletcher’s expression. He glanced at Hayley. “Maybe Fletcher can come over and help me fill Oscar’s water bowl? He’ll probably take a nap after that.”
“Okay,” Hayley agreed. “Not too long, though.” She turned to go inside but not before she saw a shadow of a smile cross Fletcher’s normally subdued features once again.
Once inside she breathed the cool air, feeling as she usually did after a day at the Y. Desperate for a shower, she filled a glass with ice and water and took it into the bathroom with her, sipping as she undressed and waited for the spray to warm up. She tried not to think about Ray too much, about how attached to him Fletcher had become. Now that Ray had a dog, she’d probably have to tear him away from Ray’s side of the duplex every day. As if dealing with Fletcher wasn’t difficult enough.
But at the same time, she couldn’t fault Ray. Fletcher had actually smiled. The first smile she’d seen on his face since Steffie’s death. Ray might have adopted Oscar for reasons of his own, but she suspected he’d also known how Fletcher might respond to an animal. Maybe he too had noticed how Rick’s dog had trailed after Fletcher at Molly’s party.
She adjusted the faucet so the water was merely tepid and stepped in. It had never occurred to her that a dog might bring Fletcher out of his self-imposed shell. She had enough to deal with on a daily basis without adding a four-legged creature to the mix. A dog required shots and veterinarian care and food, which she couldn’t afford.
Ray had no children, but his parental instincts were much more evolved than hers. From the moment he’d met Fletcher, it seemed like he’d somehow bonded with him, something she hadn’t managed to do in the last few months of living with the boy, trying to mother him and knowing she was failing. On some level, she suspected Fletcher knew it too.
That’s probably why many of the child-rearing experts believed a child needed a mother and a father. To balance each other. Maybe one could make up for what the other one lacked.
“But in my case, I lack everything,” Hayley told herself morosely. Whether Carlos would allow it or not, she simply wasn’t cut out to be Fletcher’s mommy. He needed a real family that included two parents and not one inept one. Somehow, even though it would crush her to let him go, she was going to have to see that Steffie’s son got what he needed. It was the least she could do for her stepsister. The least she could do for Fletcher.
Chapter Fifteen
The following Sunday, Ray was in the laundry room when he heard a car door slam followed by an excited squeal. He crossed to the front window in time to see Hayley hurl herself into the arms of a man who’d apparently recently exited a black Cadillac Escalade. The man caught her and swung her around while she planted kisses all over his face. The man laughed and squeezed her as if he was never going to let go.
A spear of oozing green jealousy shot through Ray. He recognized the guy. Andre Tibedeaux. The Jacks’ defensive lineman. The one Hayley’s ex-husband had accused her of having an affair with.
Hayley unwrapped herself from around the guy and, arm in arm, they headed toward her side of the duplex. Ray decided he hated the man whether he’d slept with Hayley or not. She’d never shown that kind of enthusiasm for his advances, that was for sure. Again he was plagued by how much he didn’t know about Hayley. Whatever he’d found when he Googled her certainly didn’t tell the whole the story. Most of it probably wasn’t even factual. She had a vindictive ex-husband who’d done his best to make her look bad, and he’d succeeded. Ray was sure there was more to Hayley’s past than the newspapers chose to print. He reminded himself of his vow to get past her defenses and find out who she truly was. Then he’d be able to trust her completely.
Hours later his phone rang. He’d been doing paperwork, paying bills and putting in orders for materials. He checked the caller ID to see Hayley’s name and number.
“Come over for dinner,” she said as soon as he answered.
“Okay. What are you burning this evening?”
She laughed in a way he’d never heard before. Lighthearted. Girlish. It made him smile.
“I’m not cooking. My friend Andre is here. I want you to meet him. He’s making jambalaya.”
Oscar stood on his hind legs with his front ones on Ray’s thigh. Ray absently scratched him behind the ears.
His desk was still covered with paper. The computer cursor blinked insistently. “What time?”
“Any time. Come now if you want. Hang on a minute.” She covered the phone with her hand, but he could hear her asking Andre when the food would be ready. “About seven to eat.”
“I’ve got some work to finish up. I’ll be over in a bit.”
“Great.” She hung up.
Ray got a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach.
When Hayley answered his knock an hour later, Ray’s first thought was he’d never seen her looking so animated and relaxed. Hayley obviously knew Andre Tibedeaux well. How well, Ray wondered. What exactly was he up against here?
Andre himself looked perfectly at home on Hayley’s sofa with Fletcher on his lap. Fletcher was entranced by what looked like a hand-held video game Andre was showing him how to use. They barely noticed Ray’s entrance. Great, Ray thought. Not only was Andre closer to Hayley than he was, apparently he’d won Fletcher over as well.
Hayley took his arm and drew him into the kitchen. He set the six-pack he’d brought with him on the counter. Hayley nudged him. “Hey. What kind of greeting is this?”
She moved in close, slid her arms around him and hugged him. “I’m glad you came. I wanted you to meet Andre.”
It took him only a minute to switch focus and hug her back. He placed his hands on her waist and studied her when the embrace ended. He sure hoped she wasn’t using him to make Andre jealous. She stared up at him. “What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.” His gaze flickered back to Andre and Fletcher. The game must be over.
“Ray, this is Andre Tibedeaux. Andre, Ray Braddock.” The two men shook hands.
Fletcher stood between them, head tilted up as if he wasn’t certain where he belonged. Ray hunkered in front of him. “And I think I know this guy. How you doing, Fletch?” He offered Fletcher a closed fist, and Fletcher bumped it with his own. Ray could have sworn he almost smiled.
He straightened, feeling like slightly less of a third wheel. “Smells good in here.”
“Jamabalaya. My mama’s recipe,” Andre informed him. The three of them moved out of his way as he moved to the stove and lifted the lid on a big pot. He stirred it with a long-handled spoon. “Mm-mm. Come to Daddy.”
He turned back to them, his dark eyes alight with enjoyment. He spotted the six-pack on the counter. “You sharing that beer, Ray?”
“Planned on it.” Ray handed him a bottle and took one for himself. He set the rest of it in the refrigerator. He and Andre opened the bottles and raised them in a silent toast while taking the other’s measure.
Ray sensed Andre assessing him. Why? To gauge his interest in Hayley? He didn’t like feeling as if he didn’t know where he stood with her. He thought they’d cemented something between them the other night, but now he wasn’t sure. Andre had a longer history with Hayley. But exactly what that history was, Ray couldn’t quite pin down.
They sat down to dinner. Ray complimented Andre on the jambalaya, and they chatted like old friends. Andre entertained them all, sharing professional football insider tidbits and memories of other times he and Hayley had shared. He gazed at her with affection, but that was all Ray could read in his demeanor.
After dinner, Andre insisted on cleaning up even when Hayley objected. “No, girl. You sit there and drink your wine and
keep Ray company. I got this.”
Ray stared at Andre as he fussed around the kitchen with precise movements, storing the leftover food in plastic containers, neatly lining up the plates and utensils in the dishwasher. What kind of guy offers to do the dishes and acts like he enjoys it almost as much as he does cooking jambalaya from his mama’s recipe? What kind of guy encourages a woman like Hayley to entertain another man?
The only kind of cooking Ray ever did was throwing meat on a grill or nuking frozen food. Sure, he could put an omelet together or make a grilled cheese sandwich and soup. Occasionally, he’d fry up the fish he caught. But he’d never aspired to anything more ambitious than that. And the only time he ever willingly helped clean up a kitchen was when it offered the added benefit of being in close proximity to an attractive woman. Mostly he left dirty dishes soaking in the sink until the sink was full of them or he ran out of clean dishes, whichever came first. That’s when he knew it was time to load the dishwasher.
He gazed at Hayley, huddled over Fletcher’s new video game with him.
An idea clicked in Ray’s brain. He rejected it as soon as it arrived, but the more he thought about it, the more he ran down the incomplete list of facts as he knew them, the more it made sense.
Ray thought back to everything he’d read online about Hayley, the insinuations the press had made about her supposed affair with one of Trey Christopher’s teammates. There’d been a photo of Hayley and Andre huddled together at a small table in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant. Hayley wore sunglasses, but her expression was intense. Ray remembered thinking she looked troubled when he’d studied the photo.
He looked at her now, absorbed as she was in Fletcher’s video game, his small hands guiding hers to the correct buttons. Then he gazed Andre’s way to find the other man taking in the same scene. Their gazes crossed and Andre winked at him.
Ray wasn’t sure what message that was supposed to send, but he went back to contemplating Hayley’s relationship with Andre. He did his best to put two and two together and come up with a possible answer of four.
A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2 Page 13
