Chapter 46
CHAPTER 46
HAYES
I sat in the office tapping my pen on the desk. My mind was elsewhere. I should be focused on filling out grant requests but I could not get my head around the idea Dixie was still keeping something from me. It had been days and there had been no word from her. I wasn’t texting her either.
I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to sit around and allow her to keep hiding things from me. That made me feel like a chump. I told her I would give her time to figure it out, but I wasn’t sure how long I was willing to wait.
I stared at the spreadsheet on my laptop, the numbers blurring into a meaningless jumble. The soft hum of the office air-conditioner filled the silence, a stark contrast to the storm raging in my head. Dixie’s silence was deafening. It was gnawing at me in a way I hadn’t anticipated. I’d been in this position before—women playing games, withholding information, testing boundaries—but with Dixie, it felt different. It felt personal.
Usually, if I got the feeling a woman was fucking with me, I would walk away. I didn’t need that shit. But with her, things were so different. I wanted her to be honest. I wanted her to be the woman I thought she was.
I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. My brother, Hudson, had left hours ago, muttering something about meetings and investors. The office was empty now, just me and the fluorescent lights that buzzed faintly overhead. Normally, I’d appreciate the quiet, the chance to focus, but today it felt oppressive. The noise in my head was too loud.
The truth was, I didn’t know what to do. I’d always prided myself on being decisive, on knowing exactly how to handle any situation. But this—this was uncharted territory. I didn’t know how to navigate the mess of emotions simmering beneath the surface. Anger, frustration, but also something else—something weaker, more vulnerable. I hated it.
I slammed my laptop shut and stood. I needed to do something, anything, to shake this feeling of helplessness. But what? I couldn’t force Dixie to talk to me. I couldn’t demand she explain herself. That wasn’t who I was.
Or maybe it was.
I stopped in front of the window, staring out at the city like I did so many times. Why was I handling this with kid gloves?
“Fuck it.”
I was done waiting. I needed an answer.
I locked up and left the office. I drove to her workshop. I sat in my car for a few minutes and tried to talk myself out of going in there. But it was the only way I was going to get past this feeling. The dark thoughts in my head were taking me down some pretty bad roads. Was she seeing someone else? That was the one thing I kept coming back to. It fit. And if she was seeing someone, I needed to know.
I got out of the car and opened the door to the workshop. It smelled like sawdust and paint, a combination I’d come to associate with Dixie. The space was small but full of half-finished projects, jars of brushes, and carefully organized tools covering every available surface. I quietly closed the door behind me. Music was playing and the sound of a machine filled the space. She was so focused on what she was doing, she didn’t hear me come in. I leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching her. She was bent over a wooden table, carving delicate designs into the side of what looked like a jewelry box. Her hair was pulled back, but a few strands had escaped, curling around her face as she worked with laser-sharp focus.
I hated how much I’d missed this. How much I’d missed her.
I cleared my throat. She looked up and saw me. Her eyes grew wide. She quickly shut off the machine in her hand.
“Oh, Hayes,” she said, straightening up and brushing her hands on her apron. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
I stepped inside, taking in the sight of her. She was flushed from the work, her cheeks pink and her lips slightly parted. God, she looked good. I missed those lips. Her touch. Everything.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just wanted to see you. See how you were doing.”
I sounded like an idiot. I felt like one.
She smiled, but there was a nervous edge to it. “Well, you’re always welcome.”
“How are you?” I asked.
I secretly hoped she told me she was miserable and hated everything.
“Good,” she said with a smile.
My heart dropped. That was not what I wanted to hear.
“Oh. Good. Good to hear.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling very awkward.
“I was hoping we could talk,” I said, moving closer.
Her smile faltered, but she nodded. “Me too.”
I didn’t want to push her, not today. Not when she looked so damn beautiful standing in the middle of her chaos, like she belonged in a painting.
“I know you’ve got a lot on your mind,” I said carefully, “but I wanted to let you know I still want you to come to the wedding with me.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You do?”
“Of course,” I said, meaning it. Whatever was going on with her, I wasn’t ready to give up. “The rehearsal dinner is tonight. Can I pick you up at six?”
She nodded, a faint smile returning to her lips. “I’d like that. I can wear one of the dresses I got. Thanks for sending them over. I feel guilty for keeping them. I was going to take them back to the store and have your card refunded.”
“No. Keep them. They are yours. I think you know I can afford it.” I stepped closer, glancing down at the intricate carvings she was working on. “This is beautiful,” I said, genuinely impressed.
“Thank you,” she said softly. She looked at the piece, then back at me. “I’ve thought about you all week, you know.”
My chest tightened at her words, but I couldn’t stop the bitter thought that crept in. Thought about me but didn’t bother to reach out.
I hated how twisted up I was getting about this, how out of control I felt. Women didn’t get under my skin. They didn’t make me question myself or tie me up in knots. But Dixie? She wasn’t just under my skin. She was under my damn bones.
I nodded, forcing a small smile. “I’ve thought about you too.”
Her eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought she might say more. But instead, she picked up her carving tool again. It was a clear signal she was dismissing me. She wanted me to leave. I stepped back.
“I have to get this piece done,” she said. “It was a custom order.”
“I understand,” I said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You’re not,” she said. “I’m glad you stopped by.”
“I’ll see you at six,” I said.
She nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
I left her workshop and walked to my car. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was a text from my cousin.
Rehearsal dinner starts at seven. Don’t be late.
I got in my car and headed home. I needed to shower and get changed. I was still a mess. Slightly better than before I had seen her, but not by much. She looked beautiful. Glowing. And I had dark circles under my eyes and felt like shit.
I stepped into the elevator with my mind still back in her workshop. The way she’d looked at me—had there been something there? Or was I just seeing what I wanted to see?
I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, hoping the scalding water would wash away the tension. It didn’t. My thoughts kept circling back to Dixie, to the way she’d smiled at me, hesitant but real. Was it guilt? Pity? Or did she still feel something for me?
I dressed quickly, choosing a dark suit that I knew fit me well. If I was going to face her again tonight, I wanted to look like I had my shit together, even if I didn’t feel it.
Later that evening, I stood outside Dixie’s apartment, my hands in my pockets as I waited for her to come out. Our driver was leaning casually against the car, scrolling on his phone. I had texted her and let her know we were on the way. Her text told me she didn’t want me knocking on her door. That sucked. Once again, she was keeping me at arm’s length. I didn’t want to push things and chose to wait for her by the car. I wasn’t going to invade her personal space.
When the door finally opened, I had to remind myself to breathe. Dixie stepped out wearing a deep green dress that hugged her figure and fell just above her knees. Her hair was loose, curling slightly at the ends, and her makeup was soft, enhancing her natural beauty without overshadowing it. The dress was one I saw in the garment bag she left at my place. I never got the chance to see her model it.
Damn .
“Wow,” I said, unable to hide my reaction.
She smiled shyly. “You like it?”
“I love it,” I said honestly, offering her my arm.
She took it, and we slid into the car. The drive to the country club was quiet. She did seem a little nervous. Was it me or was it because she was going to be surrounded by my big family?
The rehearsal dinner was in full swing when we arrived, the room buzzing with chatter and laughter. The Bancrofts were everywhere, their presence as overwhelming as ever. Kathy and Dad had spared no expense. The grand dining room sparkled with crystal chandeliers and elegant centerpieces.
Dixie stuck close to me as we navigated the crowd. I could tell she was trying not to feel out of place, but her eyes darted around like she was taking in every detail. My brothers, cousins, and their wives were all welcoming. Saying hello or commenting on her dress.
We eventually found our seats, surrounded by cousins and close friends of the family. The kids were running circles around the tables, shrieking with laughter as their parents halfheartedly tried to corral them. By the time everyone settled down, I could tell Dixie was feeling a little overwhelmed.
Under the table, I reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
She looked at me, her eyes softening as she squeezed back. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I leaned closer. “You’re doing great.”
Kathy and Dad eventually stood at the head of the room, smiling as they thanked everyone for coming. Kathy’s voice carried over the chatter.
“We can’t wait to celebrate with all of you next weekend,” Kathy said, her eyes shining with pure joy.
There was a round of applause. I glanced at Dixie, who was smiling as well.
“The chef has prepared a four-course meal for tonight. We’d love your input at the end of the night. If there are any dishes you don’t like or think we should add or take away from the reception, please let us know.”
The first course was served. I watched Dixie carefully as she took her first bite. Her eyes lit up as she chewed, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Good?”
“Very good,” she said, and for the first time that night, she looked relaxed. “You’ll have to try it,” she added, offering me a forkful of her appetizer.
I took the bite, savoring the flavors before nodding in agreement. “It’s delicious.”
Diana sat across from us. “I love the dress,” she said to Dixie. “You look stunning. I told you that was a must-have.”
“Thank you.” Dixie smiled. “I do love it. I’m glad I got a chance to wear green.”
“It’s definitely a good color on you.”
While the two women chatted, I half-listened while I ate. Dixie seemed to relax. It was just like in the Maldives. She fit so well with my family. This was what I wanted.