“No, it’s really nice. Would you believe a guy has never made me lunch before?” I smile over at him. “Or breakfast.”
Hayden swipes a hand over his peppered jaw. “I only tossed a few slices of beef on the plate.” He fires me an uncertain look. “And why don’t you drink milk?”
“I take a funny reaction to dairy. My face breaks out in pimples. My dermatologist told me to stay clear of it permanently.”
Hayden sits back in his seat, fingertips drumming on the edge of the table. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who has a dermatologist. You sure are one in a million.” He chuckles, and I decide it's the best damn sound in the world.
This guy is giving me goosebumps in places that have never known goosebumps before. They’re actually introducing themselves and having baby goosebumps like rampant rabbits. “Just a million?” I playfully bat my lashes.
“Okay, how about a billion, honey - does that please the lady?” He smirks.
Sunlight breaks through the clear panes, clement and welcoming. I think back to my own home and realize I can’t recall a time when I’d sat in my family kitchen, at the table, with my actual family and felt so… at home. In fact, now that I try to remember, I don’t think the three of us have sat together in the same room since I was a kid.
Chair legs judder over tiles. I suck in quickly, hoping he’s about to kiss the life out of me, but he gathers his plate with a half-eaten sandwich and sets it on the counter.
Stretching out for his empty glass, my hand shoots out, and I link his wrist. “I’ll get that,” I say quickly.
Hayden’s eyes cut to mine, so green and fresh like the first blade of grass escaping a sheet of winter snow. “I’m paying you to clean, not be my slave. I’m big enough to tidy up my own dishes.” A subtle wink evokes a rush of prickles down my spine. “I have to get back to work. I’ll come for you around four. Everything you need should be in there.” He points to a slim cupboard. “And all the cleaning stuff is under the sink.” He holds my gaze for a second longer than I expect.
Watching him leave has my stomach in knots, and I feel all shook up and fidgety. Mother would be spitting feathers if she found out how gorgeous he is. Never mind that sexy wink he just threw my way, effortless with a hint of seduction. This move was supposed to be a prison sentence, but somehow, I think it’ll be more like heaven than a grueling punishment.
I clear the plates away and look around his home. Everything is tidy and, in its place, unlike my old bedroom, which Mother calls ‘The pigsty’.If you want to live like a pig, Summer, then perhaps Papa Sawyer can let you sleep with them.I can still hear her angry threats that fell on deaf ears. It was my room and my space, who cares if I didn’t clean up after myself - it’s not like she slept in there.
Apparently, our actual cleaner refused to tackle my bedroom and only tidies the main house, calling mine the crisis zone. It’s not that bad, really. Just a few misplaced items of clothing and several empty champagne bottles that I was gathering, or more factually correct - collecting for recycling, or something like that.
I’m not sure why these two men need a cleaner, everything looks ship shape and organized to me. The cupboard doors creak open with a light tug. All I see are spray bottles, polish cans, bleach and other random stuff I’ve never seen before.
This cleaning job is going to be a challenge. I sigh, fanning out pink nails, checking for chips. I know they won’t stay perfect for long, not when my number one goal has changed. My priority is figuring out how to sway Hayden Taylor into my arms. He’s definitely left a lasting impression on me - an impression that scorches my skin from the heat of his stare.
We’re clearly from different worlds, and I think that’s why I’m hooked on his - everything. He’s unlike any guy I’ve ever met. The puzzling thing for me to accept is how I don’t want him to think of me as useless. I actually want to wow his socks off, and hopefully his jeans too.
I dart back to his bedroom, snatch my phone from the big marshmallow bed and perch on the edge of the mattress as I whisper out a pleading chant for internet connection. Thankfully, it works straight away, and I begin my search on how to clean - starting with a kitchen.
10
She doesn’t eat wheat.
She doesn’t drink milk.
She’s never had a job.
She’s never had a guy make her lunch.
It’s like she’s from another cosmos, and I’m all torn up with the desire to explore and conquer. I shouldn’t be curious, but I am. That cute smile of hers brings out a barbaric primal appetite in me that truly hates the sensible option of leaving well enough alone. I know I’ve always been the rational one and the dependable guy, but fuck it, she makes me feel things a man deserves to feel.
I’ve been in such a sour mood all afternoon, pissed that everyone else seems to have their opinions on what I outta do. The truth angers me more because I know she’s going to leave, and I ain’t chasing a woman across the globe. This is where I belong, here at the ranch in Heartville.
I’ve been tagging calf ears for a few hours straight. They’re penned in the dilapidated barn down from the house. The irritating overhead lights flicker insistently, only worsening my already bad mood. I plan to bulldoze the barn my grandfather built and replace it with a modern, less hazardous building. All in good time.
“Jeez, Lad, when the hell are you going to fix those lights?” I hook my arm around a lively calf.
Lad glances up. “It ain’t the lights, Hayden.”
“Then why the hell are they blinking on and off?” My boots slide in a heap of manure. “They’re giving me a headache.”
Anchoring my stance, I lean back, hugging my prisoner. Lad clamps the calf’s ear quickly. “I looked yesterday. It’s a rusty switch, so the wires must be faulty. I’ll get it fixed.”
“Fine.” I release the head lock and reposition my hat when the animal charges free. “Was that the last one?”
