Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
HAYES
I ’d spent the last fifteen minutes wondering how soon I could slip out of Ryan and Pamela’s housewarming party without anyone noticing. Not an easy feat for a man of my reputation and, in all modesty, my dashing good looks. I needed the perfect excuse and the perfect moment.
And it came in the form of her.
She’d caught my eye the moment she walked in. Dark hair cascading over her shoulders, those sharp green eyes scanning the room like she’d rather be anywhere else. She wasn’t dressed in designer clothes or flashy jewelry. Just a simple black sweater, jeans, and boots. She was magnetic in her ordinariness—a stark contrast to the polished socialites mingling around us.
We had seemed to be hitting it off, but then Pamela brought over some dude to meet her and that was that. I didn’t even get the chance to shoot my shot. When I had gone to the bathroom, I saw the back door. It tempted me but I was above sneaking out the door like a teenager after curfew, right? Surely, I had more dignity than that.
But then I saw her and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to follow. It was one thing to be sneaking out by myself, but if I had a partner in crime, that somehow made it better. Strength in numbers.
We stepped into the backyard that was the size of my thumb.
“Is this the best way to sneak out?” I asked.
“Shh,” she hissed and waved at me to follow.
The cool night air hit us as we rounded the corner. I kicked a garden stone, tripped over a low planter box, and nearly fell into her.
She turned around to glare at me. “Clearly, you’re not a cat burglar.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You are?”
“Compared to you I am. I hope whatever you do now pays well.”
If she only knew.
“I’ll go into stealth mode,” I said. “They won’t catch us because of me.”
She started to work her way along the side of the house. I found myself admiring her ass, round and juicy. The temptation to reach out and grab it was strong. It didn’t help that we were alone in a dark, cramped space, close enough that I caught hints of her shampoo.
We reached a wrought iron gate and she yanked at the latch.
“Shit, it’s stuck,” she said.
“Let me.” I reached around her, aware of how close we were. Her hair smelled amazing and I wanted to fill my lungs with the scent of it. Our hands brushed together, sending goosebumps up my arm. Women rarely had this effect on me anymore, but something about her was driving me crazy. I didn’t hate it.
With a firm tug, I knocked some of the rust off and the handle popped right up. “Got it.”
I took a step back from her and she pushed the gate open. The squeaking hinges were loud enough to drown out a marching band.
“Shh,” I said, just to tease her.
She whirled around, her finger pressed to her lips. “You’re louder than the gate.”
“My bad,” I whispered and closed the gate behind us. When I turned back, she was crouching.
“Get down,” she whispered. “You’re too big.”
“If I had a nickel…”
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, calm down.”
Both of us hunched over and made our way down the driveway. It wouldn’t actually matter if anyone saw us but I was game to sneak around with her. It was infinitely more enjoyable than the party.
She pulled out some keys from her pocket. The first thing I noticed was no key fob. What car didn’t have a fob? A Tesla maybe? Some other foreign brand I wasn’t familiar with?
I paused when I saw her open a car door. It was easily the ugliest beat-up Toyota Tercel I had ever seen.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.
“What?” she asked.
“Does this antique still run?”
“Don’t judge. It got me here, didn’t it?”
“I don’t know, did it?”
“Well I didn’t Fred Flintstone it here.”
I glanced back to where my Porsche was boxed in. Shit. No way I was going back in there to ask Ryan to move cars around. I was bailing thirty minutes after I showed up. Going back in there meant I was committing to at least another hour, partaking in that disgusting crab appetizer that kept circling, and enduring at least one round of whatever ice-breaking activity Pamela had planned.
It was either fold myself up and stuff my body into this death trap or look like an asshole.
“Fuck it.” I walked around to the passenger side and waited for her to unlock my door.
“You’re coming with me?” she asked.
“I think I’m the Clyde to your Bonnie,” I said. “Unlock the door.”
To my surprise, she got in the car and leaned across to manually unlock the door. I didn’t even know cars like this existed still. I got in the passenger seat, the interior smelling faintly of vanilla air freshener and something chemical. I turned around to see a box of what looked like paint in the back seat.
Before I could ask her about it, she threw the car into reverse and swung out of the driveway like she was escaping a bank heist. I gripped the edge of my seat as she launched onto the street, the tires screeching slightly. “Easy, Speed Racer. We’re leaving a housewarming, not evading the cops.”
She laughed, easing off the gas. “Sorry. Must be the adrenaline.”
“Adrenaline from what? Ditching poor Paul?” I teased.
“He’ll survive,” she said, smirking. “He wasn’t my type anyway.”
“What is your type?” I asked, curious despite myself.
She glanced at me briefly before returning her focus to the road. “Not golden retriever energy, for starters.”
I chuckled. “Can I put this seat back?” I asked, reaching around in search of controls. “If you slam into a telephone pole or another car, I’m going to eat my knees.”
I found a handle.
“Be care?—”
Too late. The seat went flying back. She hit the brakes and it slid forward so fast I thought I was going to go right out the window.
“Who designed this thing?” I grunted, folded quite literally in half with my knees touching her dash.
She burst out laughing. A real, full-bodied laugh that seemed to surprise even her. “Oh my god, are you okay?”
“Barely,” I muttered, straightening myself with some effort. “Your car is trying to eat me.”
“Welcome to my world,” she said, still chuckling. “This is why I can’t have nice things.”
I studied her profile as she drove. She had a sharp, angular face with high cheekbones and those striking green eyes that seemed to catch everything. Not classically beautiful but definitely interesting. Magnetic.
“So where are we heading?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Away.”
I decided to buckle up. If she crashed this car, I had no doubt I would be wrapped up in it like a fucking burrito. My family would never forgive me if I had to be buried in a Toyota.
“So, what’s your story? Why’d you come to a party you clearly didn’t want to be at?” I asked after the satisfying click of the seatbelt.
She hesitated. “Pamela invited me out of the blue. We haven’t talked in years, so it felt weird not to go. I didn’t want to be rude.”
“You haven’t talked to her in years?” I asked.
“Well, the usual social media stuff and some texting,” she said.
“She set you up with someone?” I pushed.
She groaned. “Yes. Always. Blind dates? Not really my thing.”
“You made that pretty clear.”
“Paul will rebound just fine,” she said. “I have a feeling he already forgot I told him I went to the bathroom.”
“I wouldn’t be fine if a girl like you stood me up,” I said, putting a hand over my chest as if she’d just stomped on my heart. “He looked like a lost puppy before you ran. What if he sits on the front stoop waiting all night for you to come home?”
“Then I hope he brought a coat. What about you?” she countered. “Why were you there?”
“Ryan twisted my arm,” I admitted. “Said I needed to get out more. Apparently, I work too much.”
“Do you?”
“Depends who you ask.” We stopped at a red light, and I turned to look at her. “Dixie, right?”
She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and nodded. “And you are?”
“Hayes.”
She nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Hayes.” The light turned green, and she hit the gas, this time at a more reasonable speed. “Fancy a bite to eat? I’m starving. I love Pamela but her choice of appetizers sucked.”
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was late, but I wasn’t ready to call it a night. “I know a place not far from here. I’ll tell you how to get there.”
“Point the way, navigator.”
“You’ll take a right up here,” I said.
She didn’t slow down.
“Right up here. This light.”
“I heard you,” she said.
The next thing I knew, my head slammed into the passenger window and I swore to God I felt the tires on her side lift off the pavement.
“Are you a racecar driver?” I asked, wincing.
“Only on weekdays,” she quipped, straightening the car after what felt like an attempted aerial maneuver. “Weekends I’m more of a demolition derby specialist.”
I rubbed the side of my head where it had connected with the window. “Remind me never to challenge you to a race.”
She glanced over, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Afraid you’ll lose?”
“Afraid I’ll lose my life,” I muttered.
We pulled up in front of Edge, my brother Dane’s restaurant. I waited until she killed the ignition before I took my seatbelt off. Just in case. I had every intention of opening her door for her, but she beat me to the punch and didn’t seem bothered when the valet driver blinked at her in shock when she handed him her car keys. I clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a look that said, Don’t judge, just park it .
“Edge?” Dixie said as we walked in. She looked around shamelessly, soaking in the sight of the beautifully appointed, modern, fine-dining restaurant. A hostess quickly led us to a table by the window. “I’ve been trying to get a reservation here for a year. How did you?—”
“The owner is my brother,” I said, pulling out her chair for her at the table Dane reserved for family for when we stopped by unannounced. I leaned in slightly, my voice low. “It has its perks.”
Her cheeks turned pink as she sat down, her gaze darting everywhere but me. She tugged at the hem of her sweater, clearly trying to gather her composure.
“Your brother?” she said with some skepticism.
“Yes.”
She cocked her head to the side and stared at me. “Wait. Hold on. You’re a Bancroft?”
“In the flesh.”
She suddenly looked nervous, like she was about to find another back door out of here and bail on me just like she bailed on Paul.
“You’re not going to ditch me, are you?” I asked.
She offered a small smile. “No.”
“Good. If it helps, you can pretend I’m Paul. We can make this the blind date you were dreading. I’ll even make a scene if you want. I’ll get the manager involved.”
Her eyes snapped to mine, amused and horrified. “Don’t you dare.”
I laughed, holding up my hands. “Relax. I’m joking. My brother would kill me and I would end up on social media.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. I felt like I stepped into a ray of sun after a rainy day. As we ordered our food, I found myself studying her every move—the way she tilted her head when she spoke, the soft curve of her lips when she smiled, the spark of defiance in her eyes when she teased me back.
Who was this woman? Sin on wheels, hotter than hell, and intriguing to a maddening degree. I hadn’t met anyone like her in years, and for the first time in a long time, I felt something stir inside me. Something more than curiosity. Something dangerous.