15. Kai
Chapter fifteen
Kai
Checking out at the hardware store that somehow unironically has ‘Nuts’ in the name, Hayes is quiet and thoughtful.
It’s not that he’s usually verbose, but I wonder if being around me in public is too much for him.
Maybe I shouldn’t have held his hand so openly, but it seemed the fastest way to get him moving into the store and out of the heat. Did I push him too far?
“Thanks for shopping at Nuts and Bolts,” the man Hayes called Jack tells us and my worried thoughts scatter.
As we grab the bags and Hayes handles the sheet of wood, I smile at the cashier and give him a glance as we head out the door.
Jack’s around my age with brown hair and green eyes, and normally I’d be checking him out.
Ezra told me a lot more people are out as queer in this small town than you’d expect, so there’s a chance he swings my way.
Except I’m way more interested in the broad-shouldered man carrying the awkward eight-foot-long lumber like it’s a paper bag.
Hayes’ muscles bunch under his plaid shirt where the sleeves are rolled up to reveal sexy forearms, and the jean fabric covering his lower half is putting in the work to contain his bubble butt and thick thighs. Makes me want to take a bite.
Shadow yips from the truck window when he sees us coming around the corner. “Hey, buddy,” Hayes coos in a voice I haven’t heard from him yet. And who doesn’t melt at a big strong man being sweet to an animal?
After laying the wood flat, Hayes takes the bags from me and tosses them in the back before opening my door for me. Swooning a little, I hop in beside Shadow.
“Thank you,” I tell him, not wanting to make a big deal out of the chivalrous act in case he really is struggling with being seen out with a man in public.
There aren’t a ton of people outside in the afternoon heat, but there are a few. The pool bar and pizza place seem to be popular, and I see a couple walk into Ezra’s boutique across the street, so I am glad the shop is getting regular business.
On the way here, I was fully focused on my excitement for both my project and to be with Hayes, and those are still on my mind, but I take in my surroundings more after Hayes gets in.
The outside is two-tone in a pretty sky blue with white along the sides and the interior matches with added wood detailing.
The radio looks original and doesn’t even have a usb port.
“What kind of truck is this?” I ask as Hayes starts the engine and I buckle my seatbelt. Shadow sits up, ready to go, and I wonder if she should have a seatbelt, too.
“It’s a nineteen-eighty Chevy C10 with a long bed,” Hayes tells me with a pride reserved for men who love their trucks, but there’s also a note of affection in his tone. He keeps his eyes on the road, partially blocked by his hat, but I can see conflict in them. “It was my dad’s first vehicle.”
“Oh,” I reply, not sure what else to say. I get the sense he doesn’t talk about his parents often, but Hayes has mentioned his dad a couple times to me now. “That’s so cool you’re driving it now. I bet he’d be proud of how you’re taking care of the truck.”
Hayes’ mustache twitches with a polite smile as he nods and drives us down Main Street. When we get to the park where the Pride event was the first day I stumbled across Foggy Basin, the street name changes to Lake Road.
“Is there a lake at the end of this road?” I ask to change the subject.
“Big Butte Lake is not too far past my farm. Over the mountains there’s also Blue Lake, which is a lot bigger. Leon goes fishing at both.”
Remembering the man with Hayes from my first night in town, I can’t help asking, “Leon is a good friend, then?”
Somehow, Hayes misses my double meaning. “Leon’s my best friend and also works for me part time when I need help. He trades me fish for produce sometimes.”
“Cool.”
Well, damn. So Hayes does have help on the farm. Am I going to be in the way?
“You won’t mind the drive to and from town?” Hayes asks and I take a minute to get that he’s insinuating a ten minute commute might be a hassle.
“Ha, no. My parents live in Waikapu on the east side of Mauna Kahālāwai and I worked in Kaanapali on the northwest part of the island,” I explain, fully aware he likely has no clue about the location names I’m saying. “It was forty-five minutes to an hour each way around the mountain.”
“Every day?” Hayes asks in shock. “I thought twenty minutes to and from my sister’s property was annoying. Granted, I drive hours to Sacramento or even further to Reno for supplies a few times a year.”
The urge to laugh at the country boy when he lives in a vastly larger state is brought up short by an idea.
It would be easier to start and end my day at the location of my new project.
I can work on Ezra’s social media stuff anywhere, only needing to try on clothes for pictures when he’s finished with new designs.
What if I stayed on Hayes’ Farm?
We pull into the gate after Hayes lets me hop out to unlatch it, and I learn that the big metal thing is heavier than expected. I start to let the gate go, but it starts swinging in towards Hayes’ as he drives in, and I stop it just in time to not ding his beloved truck.
Instead of hopping back in, I walk behind the truck the short distance to the house, reaching into the bed for a bag when Hayes stops. “Can I keep things here?”
“Sure,” Hayes nods and grabs the other two bags. “It would be silly to lug stuff back and forth.”
Following him and Shadow into the house, I set my bag on the table in the kitchen. “Does this place happen to have a spare room?”
Hayes looks towards the hallway and rubs at his beard. “Technically, it has two spare rooms. Do you want to see?”
“Ooh, yes!”
The whole place is like a nineteen-nineties farmhouse time capsule.
The walls have flowered wallpaper and the wide-plank wood floors are worn and covered in threadbare rugs in a warm but lived-in way.
The walls are lined with family photos, and I sneak peeks at a younger Hayes before the facial hair.
Walking the path we took to hookup in his room, he stops short and opens the door on the left across from the bathroom. Inside there is a frilly pink, four-poster canopy bed. There are horse toy figurines lined up on top of an old oak dresser and I'm surprised they’re not all covered in dust.
“This was my sister’s room, but now it’s where my niece, Meaghan, sleeps when I babysit.”
“How often do you watch her overnight?”
“Once a month, for date night,” Hayes tells me and I’m not surprised. He seems like he would be good with children. “Sometimes a few days at a time on school breaks for her parents to take a mini vacation. Or if she asks.”
Yeah, I’m not going to ask to stay in his niece’s room if she’s here that often. “And the other room?”
“My parents’ old room,” Hayes tells me, and I can hear the weight in his words. Maybe this was a bad plan.