Which is why he’s putting more and more pressure on me to give him an answer he likes. Meanwhile, I’ve done nothing to fix the problem at hand besides repeating myself.
After I drink my coffee and score some pain relievers in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, I put on board shorts, grab my sunglasses, and head out to the pool. The view is great, the women are hot, and the hair of the dog that bit me helps, too.
Except I’m not enjoying it, and not because of the hangover that is taking its sweet fucking time to leave. Something inside me feels off. Feels like it knows something my brain doesn’t.
Possibly, it’s because I haven’t taken a vacation in months and don’t know how to relax anymore. But who can relax when your entire future is riding on every single decision you make?
Or the reason is simpler than that. Once again, I’ve failed to uphold the Walker standard by getting so drunk at my best friend’s wedding that I don’t remember the past two days, and it’s eating at me.
I’m not that guy…at least, I’m not that guy anymore. Haven’t been for a few years now. As soon as I diverged from the Walker path of power and politics, I grew up. Realized that my actions as a firefighter had consequences—good and bad.
Who the hell knows what the consequences of this weekend are going to be?
“Fuck,” I mutter and exhale, praying to God that whatever happened doesn’t end up on YouTube.
Or CNN.
—
The next morning, I pack up the few things I brought with me. Except I can’t find the button-down shirt that I wore with my tux…actually, I can’t find my tux at all. It’s not a rental, so I don’t have to worry about that, but I do have to get to the airport.
A maid in uniform enters my room. “Is there anything you need?” she asks.
“I’ve lost my tux.”
She smiles. “Mrs. Castillo had your clothes sent to the cleaners.”
“Tell her thank you.” I grab my bag and shove my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans. “Could you ask her to send them to her grandson’s place and I’ll pick them up?”
“Si. I will tell her after she returns from Mass.”
“And please tell her thank you since I have to leave now to catch a plane back to the States.”
The maid nods again.
The ride to the airport is uneventful and it takes me no time at all to get through security. I sleep the entire flight back, having bought a nonstop ticket back to Charlotte, then spend the next two days recuperating…and scouring the Internet for any videos or news reports about me.
Nothing comes up, other than old links to my dad’s campaign and newer links to my promotion as fire captain of Station 51.
By the time Thursday comes, I’m good as new again and that feeling of wrongness has mostly dissipated. I have a morning-to-late-afternoon shift that will enable me to hit up the iHeartRadio concert that I’ve been planning to attend for months.
For no reason at all, I wonder if Saylor would want to go. I almost pick up my phone to text my buddy Hunter for her number.
Almost.
I don’t know why I can’t get that woman out of my mind. Maybe I should swing by where she works at the animal shelter and say hi.
Or something.
What’s wrong with me?
The two of us barely know each other, our entire meet-up centered around nude coffee drinking—on my part anyway.
Not my finest moment, but what can a guy do?
In any case, once I get to the venue tonight, I’ll grab a drink and a seat in the VIP section, then chill. Couldn’t ask for a better way to spend the evening.
My good mood is still intact by the time I finish my shift. I check the roster and tomorrow’s schedule before making my rounds. Saving the galley for last, I push open the door and who should I find sampling the hot wings, but…
“Saylor Dean, huh?”
I jerk my gaze to Roberts, our resident chef. While he’s got that aw shucks ma’am vibe going for him with his baby face, he’s a straight-up man whore.
“Yup. My mom named me after her favorite thing to do.”
I blink at that admission.
He snaps his fingers. “You run the animal shelter on the outskirts of town, right?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Hey, Captain,” Roberts says, finally noticing me. “Thought you were leaving?”
Saylor’s dark gaze swings my way as well, but she doesn’t look happy to see me. In fact, she doesn’t look sad or angry…or anything, really, to me. It’s like she’s staring at a stranger.
It’s annoying as hell. It’s also annoying that I find her reaction annoying.
“Planning on it, but you know me, rounds have to be done first.” I don’t take my eyes off Saylor, even while she fixes her gaze elsewhere.
“Ballbuster,” Roberts says with a laugh. “Want some wings for the road?”
“No.” I let my gaze coast down her body. She’s wearing a red Millennium Falcon T-shirt with cargo shorts and pink Sperrys. Not exactly the sexiest outfit, but on her…it works.
Strangely enough, it really works for me. But it also could be because I love breasts.
Actually, I love every part of a woman’s body, but breasts are my favorite and Saylor’s are mighty fine, as they fill out her T-shirt. She looked damn good in the bridesmaid dress at the wedding, too.
“Okay, then. I’m out.” Roberts smacks my shoulder. “Good talking to you, Saylor.”
“You, too. Hope you’ll come out to the shelter and consider adopting this weekend!”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” He pushes open the door and leaves.
“Horses.” Her brow creases adorably as she pushes her glasses up her nose with the crook of her pinky. “We don’t keep large animals. Maybe we should. I’ll have to look into that,” she mutters to herself before finishing off the last wing and washing her hands.
“Did you get lost?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intend.
“No.” She tilts her head to one side and holds up a finger. “Wait. There was that one time when I was playing electronic hide-and-seek, and I followed the wrong car all the way to Boone. Turns out they were playing it, too.”
“Electronic hide-and-seek?” I can’t help but ask.
She nods, her dark brown ponytail swinging with the movement. “It was the thing to do in high school.”
“Sounds…interesting. Anyway, why are you here?” Obviously, it’s not to see me. Why would it be?
Chapter 4
Saylor
My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I barely hear his question. Panicking, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “To pick up a stray that one of your guys found this afternoon.”
Oh sweet Lord, I’m such a bad liar. Maybe he won’t notice. He doesn’t know me well enough to notice.
He runs a hand over the back of his neck, his forehead creasing. “No one’s mentioned anything about a stray.”
I nearly drop to the floor with relief. “Maybe because you don’t like them.” I don’t have a clue if he likes them or not, I just need to stop staring at his hand as it keeps rubbing his neck.
But it’s hard.
So very hard. Just like the rest of him had been that night and the next morning.
Snap out of it.
You snap out of it. I’m enjoying the memory of the view.
“I don’t dislike strays,” he counters.
“But you don’t like them, either.” Oh yeah, I’m pulling at all the straws. Honestly, I should just leave. Just walk right out and leave him hanging, like he did me.
Except, I can’t. I want answers…yet, I don’t want another rejection from him.
“I don’t have an opinion on them.” He actually grits his teeth, and I know it’s because of all the things I’m saying.
Our night together was nothing but a fluke.
Worse, it was forgettable.
I am forgettable.
&nbs
p; Easily discarded.
“But I do,” I say softly, turning away from him. “It’s what I do.”
“I have an extra ticket to the iHeartRadio concert tonight and—”
“I have to”—I have to get out of here; my heart, my ego…my everything can’t take another second in his presence; it’s dumb really; I’m not in love with him, but for one night, I was the most loved woman in the world—“wash my hair.”
His brows raise, but he says nothing more than, “You have fun with that.”
“Always do,” I reply, leaving the room.
Ridiculous tears pool in my eyes. I have to constantly swipe them away as I head to my Jeep so I don’t run into anything. That’s all I need to happen.
Getting in, I lock the doors and put the key in the ignition, then just sit there like a fool. “So much for telling him the truth,” I say to my reflection in the rearview mirror. My chest is tight, constrained in pain, but I push away that familiar feeling of not being enough.
Swallow it down, I order myself, no matter how bitter it tastes.
—
Later that night, Empress Padme purrs in my lap while I stroke her tummy. For once, she didn’t hide as soon as I walked in the door.
“You knew I needed attention, didn’t you?” I murmur.
She stretches and I laugh, then sigh at my idiocy, at my unwillingness to jump at the opportunity to spend time with Hayden.
I could have agreed to go out on a date with him instead of spouting off nonsense about washing my hair. Although technically, I did need to wash it, but who doesn’t take a shower before a date? Or after working at an animal shelter all day?
My phone chirps, and I glance over at the screen, happiness chasing away my gloomy thoughts.
Evangeline: Missing you!
Me: When do you get back home?
Evangeline: In less than thirty minutes.
“Ack!” I jump up, dumping Padme onto the floor.
Hissing, Padme darts away while I frantically gather up the bags of goodies I bought for Hunter and Evangeline’s first night home as a married couple.
My phone dings again.
Crap. I can’t answer her. I don’t have time! I’ll text Evangeline back later and tell her that Padme stole my phone.
Or aliens abducted it for research.
She’d totally believe that I’d believe that.
Grabbing my keys and the spare key to Hunter’s apartment, I throw my door open and kick it closed before running the entire way there. Thankfully, it’s in the same building.
I jog up a flight of stairs, wishing I had on my sports bra, or any bra at all, for that matter, because huge boobs and running do not mix.
A door opens.
I glance behind me for a split second, then back at where I’m going, narrowly avoiding a collision with—
Oh sweet Jesus, it’s him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, hastily covering my arms over my chest. Stupid really, considering he’s already seen the goods, but apparently my goodies are unremarkable because all he does is stare at me like I’ve just spoken to him in Klingon.
Which I can do because this one guy I met online was a Trekkie, and I thought it would help me get to know him better if I learned it before our first date.
Wej Qap ʼoH—It did not.
“Could ask the same of you,” he replies.
Gosh, he’s tall. And handsome. Well, if you like blue eyes and dark blond hair, and full lips…and a rockin’ bod.
But I don’t.
Not one lickable body bit.
Nope.
“You could but you didn’t.” I attempt to move past him, but he grabs my shoulder. I totally shouldn’t like the feel of him, the gentle pressure he’s exerting, but I’m worse than a goldfish because all I want to do is rub up against him like a cat and purr…despite what transpired between us last weekend.
Or maybe it’s because of what happened last weekend, before the next morning anyway.
He doesn’t remember you.
The plane ride home, alone, was the worst ending to a date ever.
Right. I’ll act accordingly.
Tipping up my chin, I give him my best customer service smile. “Can I help you with something—Hannibal, is it?” There, that should do it. After all, I owe him for calling me the naughty bridesmaid Sammy.
He cocks a brow, his lips quirking at the corners. “It’s Hayden Walker.”
I pretend to be completely amazed by this information. “The Hayden Walker? Fire captain, right?”
“Among other things.” His lips curve into a smile.
Wait.
He shouldn’t be smiling at me. He should be frustrated and leaving, like a normal person would when confronted by kooky Saylor. I need him to leave because my guilt is returning, and I’ll be forced to tell him the truth.
I don’t want to tell him the truth without a bra on. My truth needs straight-up armor to protect myself.
Widening my eyes, I tilt my head to one side and ask, “Are you in the Army, too?”
“No.”
“Marines.”
“No.”
“Star Fleet Academy.”
That smile of his doesn’t falter. “Flunked out.”
“Are you sure you didn’t get kicked out?” I tease, then frown. I shouldn’t be flirting with him. This is exactly how things got started with us.
“Kirk, even the rebooted one, has nothing on me.”
I stick my nose in the air, even while I’m swooning inside. “I prefer Finn.” Try to keep up with that.
He arches a brow. “I suppose he’s appealing. Bad guy goes good. Backs up Rey instead of trying to be the hero.”
Dang it. He knows exactly what to say to me. “You’re certainly charming,” I snap.
“I can be.” He lets go of me, only to touch my hair, which is still damp from my shower. “Hmm. You really did wash it.”
“Of course I did.” I give him an annoyed glare and take a step back. “I work with animals. They poo a lot, especially on yoga Thursdays.”
His sexy blue eyes widen slightly. “So noted. Don’t visit the animal shelter on Thursdays.”
I giggle, then smash my lips together before finally admitting the truth. “I’m here to leave some gifts for Evangeline and Hunter, for when they return from their honeymoon. Tonight. Like at any moment.”
“What a coincidence. I’m here to do the same.”
My mouth falls open. “You are?”
He nods, the scent of his cologne hitting me. He smells delicious, like fall—all campfires and cinnamon. A little woodsy, too. “Tickets to Something Rotten as well as the promise to watch Jake for them while they’re gone.”
“Really?” My entire body is melting and swooning. I’m not sure how I still have legs holding me up.
He runs a hand through his hair, giving it a rakish look. “Look, I’m not sure how or why we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. But if it’s something I said or did during that weekend in Tijuana, please let me know so I can apologize and make it up to you.”
Hayden seems so earnest and genuine that I cave a little. “You, uh…kissed me.”
His cheeks redden a little even as his eyes get this devilish gleam in them. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”
Now my cheeks heat. “It was the polite thing to do.”
Biting the side of his bottom lip, he seems to consider my words for a minute. “Will you be at work tomorrow?”
“I’m always at work.” I look to one side. “Except on my days off.”
“Guess I’ll have to take a chance, then,” he murmurs. “I’ll let you do your thing.”
“Don’t you have something to do as well?”
He smiles at me, making my heart flutter. “It can wait. See you later.”
“Yup.” I wait for him to disappear down the hall before I fall against the nearest wall. “What just happened?” I mumble, a bit dazed by my encounter with Hayden.
Then I pi
ck myself up and continue on to Hunter’s apartment. Doesn’t matter what just happened. As far as I’m concerned, nothing has ever happened.
Nothing legal in the United States, anyway. Maybe not even legal in Mexico.
All I need to do is wait things out and, eventually, what happened in Tijuana will be a distant memory.
My heart stutters, but I ignore it.
Chapter 5
Hayden
The next day, I take a chance on Saylor actually working at the animal shelter and drive over there. It’s a bit of a haul from my place in Charlotte, but I end up getting there ten minutes before noon. Hopefully, if she is working, she hasn’t gone to lunch yet.
Walking inside, I spot her right away. She’s talking to a couple, so I start scanning the bulletin boards while I wait my turn, not really reading anything but, rather, waiting for the opportunity to talk to her.
“She’s too affectionate,” the woman says loudly.
“That’s a problem?” Saylor slowly asks. She doesn’t sound happy at all.
“Absolutely,” the guy beside her chimes in. “Cats aren’t supposed to actually like people. This one wants to be held and touched all the time.”
Saylor’s jaw works before she smiles. It’s not a genuine smile, either. Actually, it’s a lot like the one she gave me last night.
“I’m happy to take Mrs. Pufflebottom back.”
The guy holds out the carrier to Saylor and she grabs it from him. “Does this mean we get a refund, too?”
Saylor shakes her head, her dark ponytail swinging back and forth. “We couldn’t possibly refuse the donation you made to the shelter. Every dollar counts. Thank you so much for your generous contribution.”
The couple’s faces go slack while I do my best not to laugh. The woman does have a way with words.
“Um, we didn’t—”
“You want to donate even more!” Saylor’s dark eyes glitter behind her glasses. “That’s so—”
“We’ll be on our way. Thanks for taking her back.”
“Sure thing,” Saylor calls after them. “I hope the next time you come in, you’ll find it in your heart to give twice as much.”
Once they’ve barreled through the entrance, I make my move. “I don’t think they’ll be back to make another donation.”
Hard to Fall Page 3
