“You’d rather go back to fighting? To the constant insults?”
“Yes.” Her eyes squeezed shut. When they reopened, he couldn’t find Hayden anywhere in the brown depths. The absence of her fire, her fight, kicked him square in the stomach. “That’s us, Brent. That’s what we do.”
Brent shook his head emphatically and started to respond when the kids scampered back into the living room. He watched Hayden’s surprised reaction when the girls grabbed her hands and dragged her toward the backyard. She looked as though she wanted to inform them they were making a mistake. That perhaps they’d grabbed on to the wrong adult, but ultimately she had no choice but to follow.
“Come on! Story and Daniel are turning into zombies and we have to fight them.”
Hayden paused. “Ooh. I didn’t exactly wear my zombie fighting shoes today.” The girls stared down at her feet in disappointment. “Um. So I guess I’ll have to take them off?”
“Yay!”
As she was dragged through the back of his house, he heard her say, “You know, zombies don’t even eat children. You’re way too bony. Terrible for their fragile digestive tract.”
Giggles. “You’re funny.”
“Oh, yeah? Huh.”
Trying and failing to ignore the odd pang in his stomach, Brent followed them. He stopped just inside the screen door to watch Story and Daniel chase the girls around his yard, Hayden warding them off with a broom handle. He couldn’t afford to have this Hayden thrown into the mix as well. One who humored his nieces. It only served to confuse him more.
Better to keep his mind focused on the thing between them that not even she could deny, because he and Hayden weren’t finished. Not by a long shot.
The sooner she realized he wasn’t fading silently into the night, the better.
Chapter Eleven
Hayden flung her leather travel case onto the hotel room bed and went to stand in front of the air conditioner. Her skin felt flushed, feverish. The two-hour ride from New York to Atlantic City had been absolute hell. Brent had crowded her in the backseat of Daniel’s car with his gigantic body, pressing his arm or thigh against her at every opportunity. She’d made a valiant attempt to ignore his interested perusal by staring out the window. Then the whispering had started. After that, her temperature had steadily risen until she felt like a whistling teakettle.
Sure, it had started innocent enough. For Brent. You look sexy as hell in that dress. You smell f**king amazing. But when she’d continued to patently ignore him, the rough whispers near her ear went from PG to NC-17 before she could blink. Duchess, tug the top of that dress down just a little. Just enough that I can sit here and imagine sucking your ni**les. Then there was the one accompanied by his hand squeezing the front of his jeans. Sit on my lap, baby. I just need your weight right here. Or the one that had nearly melted her into the seat. If I slipped my hand under your dress right now, no one would know but us. Think you could stay quiet long enough to come?
When Daniel finally pulled up outside the Borgata hotel and casino, she’d practically dived from the still-rolling vehicle to escape Brent, ignoring the deep chuckle behind her. Oh, but it hadn’t ended there. Fortunately, the check-in line had been short. Unfortunately, her room and Brent’s room were separated only by an adjoining door. It never occurred to her, in a hotel this size, that such a coincidence was possible, so she’d made it all the way to her room, Brent one step behind her, before realizing it. He’d whistled as he unlocked his door, sending her a sly wink as the door slowly closed.
Her insanely hot response to Brent concerned her. Big-time. This weekend would be twice as difficult as she’d imagined it would. At worst, she’d pictured them fighting. Maybe needling each other a little harder than usual. Brent obviously had other plans. He didn’t appear satisfied to part ways after one night. She lifted the hair off her neck and blew out a breath. Apparently her body had sided with Brent. And, damn him, he knew it.
What he didn’t know? When this weekend was over, she might very well agree to marry someone else. She needed to put an end to this thing between them. One more slipup and it could easily turn into a habit. Into something that clouded her decision-making process. Her judgment. If she married Stuart, happy or not, she would be 100 percent committed to him. It didn’t matter that it was a business arrangement. There wouldn’t be anyone else once she agreed to be his wife. If she allowed herself more time with Brent, agreeing to marry someone she felt zero attraction for would be twice as difficult.
Hayden’s cell phone buzzed in her purse, interrupting her dark thoughts. Her mother. “Hello.”
“Where are you? I’m standing outside your house.”
She sat at the edge of the bed and kicked off her sandals. A cold shower was definitely in order. “I’m with Story in Atlantic City.”
A long pause. “Is he there?”
“Who?” Hayden played dumb. “Daniel? Yes. Where one goes, the other follows.”
Her mother made an impatient noise. “You know to whom I’m referring. Based on your evasion, I assume he is there.” A pregnant pause. “Honestly, you couldn’t pick someone more discreet to have one final fling with?”
Hayden straightened. “I haven’t made my decision regarding Stuart yet.” She unzipped her bag, drew out her toiletry bag. “And you’ve only met Brent once. I doubt you can vouch for his ability to be discreet.”
A snort. “Oh, please. He’s a loud, ill-mannered cop who moonlights as a grease monkey. Frankly, it’s embarrassing.”
She felt a flash of annoyance, followed quickly by the startling realization that her mother wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t said herself about Brent in the past. Her shoulders slumped under the weight of that thought. “Actually, he’s working two jobs because he helps support his brother’s family. Plus, his sister in college. Which is kind of…well, it’s pretty damn amazing. And he certainly won your friends over the other night. It’s not fair to call him ill-mannered.” Unbelievable. She’d just defended Brent.
A long-suffering sigh. “I’m going to let you go now. But Hayden, if and when you decide to make the right decision, do make sure Brent knows where he stands. We wouldn’t want any loose ends.”
After the line went silent, Hayden stripped her dress over her head. Now she needed a shower not only to cool her heated skin, but also to wash away the conversation she’d just had with her mother. She padded to the bathroom, stopping short when she heard two men’s voices coming from Brent’s room, one belonging to Daniel. After the briefest hesitation, she opened the door on her side and pressed her ear against the smooth, cool wood.
“Danny, sit down.” Brent’s baritone voice. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“You think she’ll say yes?”
“I don’t know…” Brent answered, and Hayden frowned. Perhaps she’d been too quick to defend him. Whatever Daniel planned on asking Story, she had a pretty strong feeling the answer would be yes. “I figure you’ve got about a fifty-fifty shot.”
“Be serious, dick. I’m about to propose here. Me. What would you have said if I’d told you that six months ago?”