“I’m not starved of fun by any means.” Hayden lifts his sandwich and bites down hard.
“So you have a girlfriend?” I ask, keeping my eyes low. I feel oddly bashful all of a sudden, probably because I’m hoping he says no. I mean, what guy with those looks wouldn’t have a girlfriend, and if not, why not? Perhaps he has a weird sexual toe fetish that can’t be cured. I hate feet, but I’d happily let him fool around with mine, if that’s what he's into.
Swallowing, he stares at me for a beat as if he can see the madness rotating in my brain, then sets down his beef packed lunch. “Nope. I ain’t got time for commitment. Now, tell me why you had a shower here and not at Sawyer’s.”
A gust of relief leaves my throat. “Who needs commitment?” I blurt out. “That's for old people. Those older ones who settle down with heavy shackles in the form of kids. And let’s face it, kids zap every second of free time and induce premature ageing.” What a nightmare, but a fling, with a hot rancher - that sounds like a whole heap of fun. “I have a toilet and a sink just the right size for a leprechaun to bathe in. I’m bunking in an old barn… above stables. No shower or bath or sauna or steam room, just basic running water and a strong smell of animal poop. That's as flashy as it gets out here, or so I thought until I saw your shower room, I…”
“You’re a fancy girl and luxury is paramount. I get it.” He looks resigned to his assumption. I can’t argue - he’s right. I’m used to plush fabric and champagne, spas and pricey cosmetics. “Please feel free to use my shower for the duration of your time here at, Wild Hearts Ranch.” I’m pleased he suggests it, but I can’t help detect a sudden formality to his tone, a forced politeness.
“It’s okay, Hayden. Don’t worry about it.” I shrug lightly and pop a tiny piece of meat into my mouth. It’s surprisingly tasty. “I’m sure Sawyer has a shower in the main house. He’s a quirky guy, but he still needs to wash.”
Hayden steeples his fingers, watching me with a thoughtful expression. The sound of my knife hitting the plate echoes around the room, and I swear I hear him breathing. “I promise you, Summer, I will not walk in on you again.” He pauses, as if he wants to say something else.
“Honestly, I didn’t mind,” I say between chews. “I guess it’s weird craic having a shower in a stranger's house.” I laugh softly.
The green of his eyes darkens. “Weird craic…” he mutters. “Like a weird shaped one?”
“A weird shaped what?”
“A crack that’s a weird line or…” He’s utterly confused and scratches his strong jaw.
“I mean banter… or that it’s an odd thing for me to have a shower in my boss’s house.”
Hayden nods with thoughtful understanding. “Humor me, why did you travel all the way here to be a cleaner? Have you been a cleaner for long?”
An embarrassed heat creeps up my neck. “Pfff, I’m not a cleaner.” The idea is still preposterous. “This is a crazy idea my darling mother concocted to try to teach me a lesson.”
“A lesson in what?” Hayden lowers his sandwich, waiting.
“In life, I guess.” I look at the milk and instantly feel a blemish brew under the skin on my chin. “My father arranged for an interview with one of his business friends. I’d been out the night before with Ellie, she’s my best friend. We went to the opening of a new restaurant in Belfast. We always get invited to events like that. Anyway, I slept in and missed the interview.” Hayden inhales a deep breath and says nothing. “I’ve never had a job before. This will be my first.”
He gulps a glug of milk and sets the glass down softly. “And you’re what age?”
“Twenty-three.”
“So your mother sent you to Texas to clean houses?” His eyebrows hitch up. “As your first job…”
“Well…” I bob my head side to side. “I don’t think she expected this.” I wave my hand in front of him. “I think she hoped I’d be isolated on a hill with Sawyer as my taskmaster. If she only knew my boss would be a handsome rancher...”
“Handsome?” he says slowly, the corner of his mouth lifting lazily.
I slide back in the chair and laugh without control, feeling jitters crash and rise in my belly. “Let’s put it this way, they do not make men like Hayden Taylor in Northern Ireland.”
An enormous grin spreads across his cheeks, and he holds me in a contemplative stare. His large palm curls the glass of milk again, like he’s searching for something to do with those hands of his, but just at that moment a mobile phone buzzes.
“Excuse me.” Hayden nods at me, pardoning himself, then answers. “Levi, don’t tell me you’re bailing on Jackson’s?”
I sit at the table, bound to the seat by his presence, by invisible lasso’s, each one feeling the tug of his deep voice, rugged appearance and that broody assessment that never wavers from mine as he chats. “Yeah, that’s no problem, buddy. Just swing by once the babysitter arrives. I’ll be a few beers ahead of you by then.” His laughter rolls across the room, all warm and hearty. “Make sure Ryder hauls his ass away from the vineyard. He didn’t show up last week because of some big wine tasting event. He’s always with Lora these days. She has him wrapped around her little finger.” Hayden shakes his head, and I chew some more yummy meat. “I’d put a wager on them getting together if her father wasn’t hell bent on marrying her off.” He offers the caller a wry smile that only I can see. “Best friends my ass.”
Hayden ends the call. “Sorry, honey, that was rude of me to take a call while we’re at the table. I just know if I didn’t pick up then, I’d not get the chance to call him back.”
I debate telling him it’s normal practice to have lunch with one person while messaging another for the entire time. That’s what Ellie and I do all the time. Then again, we’ve known each other since we were thirteen. I decide not to tell him, having thought better of giving him the green light to ignore me in the future. I like having his attention, being the only girl he’s with, in his home, with his hands so close to mine that my thighs clench. And most of all, I love how he just called me, honey.
“Drink up.” Hayden’s chin dips, acknowledging the untouched glass of dairy.
“I don’t drink milk,” I say softly. “But thank you for lunch. It’s...” I hesitate, with another chunk of beef waiting at my lips.
“It’s not much.”
