“That is very brave of you. But, Weston, they want to be there for you.”
“And they can. But at least with me here they won’t be worrying all the time that I’m alone. They won’t need to drop anything or come to my aid if a nurse calls in sick.”
“But—”
He reaches out, placing his cold hand over mine. “Stop, Hayden. I’m fine with my decision. I’ve not taken a holiday in ten years. I’m going to act like this is one.”
“Okay, okay,” I give in. “But, dude, what is with all the boxes?”
“They packed up my room at home. Anything sentimental was important to me, so they boxed it up. I need them close,” he tells me, but there’s more in his voice. There are treasures in those boxes that he wants to see before he goes. And I can understand that. My nan was ill before she passed, but she died peacefully in my grandfather’s arms. When we found them, it was devasting but beautiful at the same time. If I could choose the way I would leave this world, it would be exactly how they did, in my sleep. I want to leave this world in the arms of someone I love and surrounded by family.
Weston is a ticking time bomb. He could go any minute, and he wants to spend it surrounded by the things he loves. The people he loves. And to know that everything will be okay when he leaves.
I can’t fault him for that.
“Why don’t I start getting you settled in while we wait for Clayton and Mia to come?”
“Go for it, but they won’t mind doing it.”
I check no one is at the door before telling him, “Between you and me, I’d rather clean toilets than go to the next room on the list. The woman staying there has a thing for hitting and spitting at me. And while we’re on the subject, stay away from room two-zero-two and her guest.”
“Why?” he asks, his lips twitching as he takes deep, steady breaths.
“Because Satan created them to be thorns in the world. I’m worried they’ll take you with them. Don’t let them corrupt you.”
He chuckles, wheezing a little. “You, Hayden Carter, scared of two old women.”
A deflated sigh escapes me. “No, I’m worried I’ll kill them.”
He laughs, slapping his thigh. “I’m so glad I’ll have you here on the days you work.”
I smile, giving him another glass of water. “It’s because of my personality, right?”
“Something like that.” He clears his throat before continuing. “How is it, working with my Clayton?”
Taken off guard, I dig my nails into the palms of my hands. I can’t give him the answer he needs right now. Or wants to hear. Telling him that you want to kill his son, yet imagine fucking said son on his desk, isn’t exactly something you should admit to a dying man.
“What?” he asks, clearly clicking on to the fact I don’t want to answer.
“You do not want to ask that while you are high on meds.”
“When did you start stopping yourself from speaking your mind? And what do my meds have to do with it?”
It’s my turn to grin. “Because when I hand you your arse, I want you to remember. Now, get some rest and I’ll get this room looking homier. When Clayton and Mia come back, they can let me know if they want anything moved.”
“I won’t argue. I am feeling a little drowsy,” he admits, ducking his head. It must be hard for a hardworking, independent man to rely on the care of others.
“Get some sleep,” I whisper, waiting until his eyes close to move.
Reaching for the first box, a thought hits me like a ton of bricks, and I groan. Not only will I be working at the station alongside Clayton or going on dates with him watching close by, but I’ll have to see him here too.
I’m so fucking screwed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The air is below freezing tonight as I step out of the car. I’m glad Hope had a coat that went with my red, form-fitting dress. All I had were leather jackets, nothing that went with the type of restaurant I’m at. The black wool coat falls to my knees and is buttoned up to my chest. It has a belt that goes around it, but instead of tying it around me, I decided to tie it at the back, not wanting that feeling of being restricted.
The restaurant is located next to a beautiful lake. Rivers has been open a few months, and the lavish steak house has nothing but good reviews online. I’m excited to try some yummy goodness off their menu.
Outside, it has a patio area with tables, sheltered by the wooden pavilion gazebo. If the food turns out to be good, I’d definitely like to come back to see this in a summer setting.
Stepping inside, the warmth engulfs me. The place is fancy, maybe a little too fancy, which is probably why I didn’t hear about it opening until Clayton mentioned where I’d be attending my first date.
It’s one of the many restaurants on a list of things to do with Date Night. It’s the first phase of their programme. The second, if you choose to see your date again, is an activity date. They have nature walks to rock climbing to choose from. The third phase is an away date, though you have the option to continue with phase one or two until you are ready.
“Hayden?” Clayton calls, sounding unsure. I turn around and lose my breath. He’s wearing a navy-blue suit with a burgundy tie, a sliver clip in the middle.
I can only ogle the fine specimen in front of me.
He is ridiculously hot.
Why did he have to be an ass?
And my boss?
It takes me a moment to notice he’s checking me out too. I had undone my coat stepping inside, so he has full view of my tits and how hot I look in my dress. It clings in all the right places.
What surprises me is how suddenly his posture changes. He shakes his head, like he’s clearing his mind, before he straightens. Jaw clenched, he glares down at me.
“Great, you’re here. We now only have forty-five minutes to go over the plans for tonight.”
Maybe he wasn’t checking me out.
“I’m ten minutes late. I had to go back home to change my shoes. I couldn’t drive in them.”
“You mean the two-hundred-pound a pair shoes? That you had to have?”
I grin, finding satisfaction in his pouting. “Yes. Now, are we going to keep wasting time or go sit down?”
He opens his mouth to argue but decides against it.
“Come on,” he orders, heading over to the podium.
I take the time to look around. There’s a lot of beige, golds and soft tones decorating the restaurant. The dim lighting is what gives it warmth. What gives it colour is the green. There are lots of tiny shrubs with twinkle lights wrapped around them. I like it. It makes the place stand out against all the other restaurants who copy each other by having pictures of landscapes or old-fashioned ornaments decorating the place.
“Welcome to Rivers, Mr Cross. Tonight, you are in the Dove suite. If you’d like to follow me, I’ll get you seated,” the waitress explains, her perky ponytail swishing side to side with her energetic movements.
We follow her into the main room, just off the entrance. The main dining room is modern and inviting. Candlelight flickers from the tables, which are decorated with beautiful candle holders, gold swirls flickering in all directions.
When we step into the next room, I can’t help the small shot of anxiety that tries but fails to creep up my spine. It’s there, lingering on the surface, for reasons unknown. I’m a confident person in all aspects of my life, but this feeling is foreign. It’s as if the room is screaming at me to get out, that I don’t belong. And I don’t. I have a foul mouth, don’t care who I smart off to, and love hamburgers for dinner.