She glanced up, finished her bite. “Sure.”
Hayes’s expression turned probing. “Why have you been single for so long? You dated when Laurel was alive. Had that one boyfriend for a year.”
“Seth?”
Hayes nodded. “Yeah, that one. Whatever happened to him?”
She hesitated, wondering if she should share, considering the truth may hurt. Deciding the truth mattered above all else, she explained, “After Laurel passed away, I changed. Hell, everything changed. I began to take things more seriously, and I think it all got too real for him. Too dark, I think.”
“So, things got tough and he bailed?”
“I know it seems harsh, but I couldn’t really blame him. Things went from super fun to super sad. All I did was cry. He wasn’t looking for that. He wanted fun Maisie.”
“You might not blame him, but I do,” Hayes muttered, scooping up pulled pork on his fork. “Have you seen him since?”
She pushed the grits around with her plastic fork. “He called a while back. It was actually kind of sweet. I think he felt bad for the way he had acted. Wanted to make sure I was okay.”
Hayes’s eyes searched hers. “Are you okay?”
Emotion thickened her throat. She pushed past it. “I actually think I am.” She hesitated, trying to collect her thoughts, not even really sure herself. “My heart changed with Laurel’s murder. I just don’t think I ever knew the world could be so cruel. You always hear of bad things happening, but how could something so horrible happen to someone so good?” She glanced to her food, so Hayes wouldn’t see the welling of her tears. “It took me a very long time to see the beauty in things again. And to realize that, while there are evil people, there are more good.”
A long sigh fell from his lips, and he gave
a slow nod. “I can understand that.”
She wiped the fallen tear before he noticed. “So, to answer your dating question, I didn’t date the year after Laurel left us, because I didn’t want anyone in my life.”
“What about the year after that?”
She looked at him, finding his attentive stare on her. I helped you, she wanted to say. But not wanting to make him feel bad about taking up her time, she said instead, “The brewery started to take off and that took over my life.”
He stared at her intently, a million unknowns hanging in the air, and she looked out and found Ralph giving her a cute smile from behind his tent. She smiled back and gave him a little wave. He returned it, but then the smile vanished and he looked away.
One look at Hayes told her why. Hayes glared in the guy’s direction. Don’t, his expression demanded. This time, she smiled. “So, enough about me, you did spend the night in jail. Are you sure you’re really okay?”
Hayes looked at her with something that looked like possession flaring in his eyes. “I am now.”
7
By the time they got back to their room for the night at the Range, Hayes was almost too spent from the long day to notice the hellish room they’d walked into. Almost. What had Clara been thinking when booking this place?
An oil painting of a deer in the forest hung over the queen-size bed with the brown and orange floral bedspread, the same orange color of the shag carpet. While the place itself looked clean enough, Hayes suspected it hadn’t been redecorated since the 1970s.
“Yeah, it went really well,” Maisie said into her phone to Clara as she shut the door behind her.
Hayes dropped their overnight bags by the end of the bed and then pointed toward the bathroom.
“Shower,” he mouthed.
Maisie gave him a thumbs-up and said to Clara, “Right? I was thrilled with how excited everyone seemed to be. My Instagram was blowing up all night.” Hayes headed for the bathroom door, but paused before closing it as she added, “Yup, Hayes was fine. Don’t worry. We’re all good here.”
Hayes didn’t feel fine at all. He felt fraught with tension when he shut the door, noting the constant dripping coming from the pedestal sink as he ditched his clothes. He imagined all Clara did was worry. All the time. He didn’t blame her. She was a single mother, with a world of responsibility on her shoulders. But damn, he wished her sisters could have seen her tonight. The crowd loved her. All that charm, cuteness, and spunk bewitched them.
They hadn’t been the only ones. His father’s warning weighed heavy on Hayes’s mind all night. What the fuck was he doing? He had no business putting his hands on Maisie until his head and heart were right.
Leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor, he turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. The old pipes began creaking and complaining as he stepped into the shower and pulled the clear shower curtain closed. The lack of water pressure didn’t bode well, but it would deal with the grime and dirt from the festival, which only added to the stench on him from sitting in a jail cell all night.
He used the shampoo in the little bottle to wash his hair, his mind slowly drifting back to Maisie. His head kept telling him to keep his distance from her, but one look at her tonight and those roadblocks vanished. Her sweet eyes pulling him in, the gorgeous curves of her body moving beneath his hands, her lips that he’d almost believed were handmade for him. He remembered her soft moans from last night, the feel of her tight heat around him. The hot water rushed down his chest to his hard cock and his hand followed. Desperate not to feel pain or heartache, he shut his eyes, leaned his head back into the water, and he grasped his dick and squeezed. Slow. Easy. Tight. Just the way her body had. He groaned as he ran his hand down to the base and then up again.