A breath escapes my pressed lips, creating a puff of fog in the cool night air.
“No need. I’ll recycle the suit and get a new one.” Even if it was my favorite. I turn around, and Hayden drops her hand to her side. Warmth lingers where her fingers had rested.
She bites her lip and looks away from my gaze. An unfamiliar feeling arises in my stomach, a warm feeling that makes my pent-up anger threaten to melt away, though I’m not quite ready for that yet.
“How did you manage to not get a drop on yourself?” There is a dry coarseness to my voice, creating a positively growly and grumpy effect.
Regardless of my tone, she laughs. “I’m a woman of many talents.”
With a frustrated snort, I run a hand through my hair. How can she laugh at a moment like this? But then again, I’m standing in front of my ex-fiancée’s father’s house, proposing to my campaign manager while coated in her vomit. What have I sunk to?
I’m not giving up now. Hayden Bennett as my wife still makes the most sense to me in this pressing, time-restrained situation. “Would one of those talents be marrying your boss and possibly becoming First Lady of the United States?”
“You were serious?”
I sigh. Am I ever not serious? What part of this is she not understanding? “Yes, Hayden. I’m very serious. It would be a real marriage in the eyes of the law, but it won’t be real for us. Just thinkof it as a job promotion with significantly higher pay. And new housing.”
With a small gasp, her eyebrows raise and her mouth drops open. At that moment, the wind brushes across my face, carrying unthinkable smells. Hayden then covers her mouth and nose with her hand, and I instinctively scrunch my nose.
“Let’s move this conversation to somewhere more…sanitary.”
She nods her head, and I pull my phone from the pocket of my black slacks to ask my personal assistant to pick us up in my favorite car—the Mustang. Spotting Lionel facing away from us with his hands laced behind his back, I walk the slight distance away from Hayden and the car to speak with him. He rocks back and forth on his toes, humming an unfamiliar tune.
“Lionel,” I say, trying not to startle him with my sudden approach.
“Mr. Marshall.” He turns on his heel and faces me with a nod. “Are you ready for me to park the car?”
“There was an incident. Vomit is now soaked into the floor of the backseat.”
I expect Lionel to flinch or make a disgusted face, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “I will make sure it is cleaned by tomorrow.”
“I will pay you extra for the service. Thank you, Lionel.”
He looks me over, noticing the new additions to my suit. He says, “Should I call someone to pick you and Miss Bennett up?”
“Thanks, but I’ve already called Bennie. He will be here shortly. You can go ahead and take off.”
He nods once and walks determinedly to the car, pausing only to give a slight nod to Hayden, who crosses her arms over her chestand hugs herself. The woman who never gets embarrassed must be dying on the inside right now.
As Lionel drives away, I join a shivering Hayden on the gravel walkway. Not embarrassed, but apparently cold.
I shrug my coat off, but quickly remember it is splashed with unthinkable things.
“It has your…stomach contents on it, but it’s warm.” I hand the jacket out to her. She stares at it as if it’s diseased. Disregarding her look, I step behind her and wrap it around her shoulders. I half expect her to toss it off, but instead, her hands grip the sides and pull it closed around her.
“Thank you,” she whispers. In a louder voice, “You need to call Ren and let him know we are leaving.”
Ren. Right. I forgot about him.
I send a quick text letting him know that I will be leaving. Two seconds later, he calls me.
“Why are you leaving?” I hear laughter in his voice. “Did Hayden put you in your place again and now you need to nurse your pride alone?”
“No,” I bite out. “We just need to go.” Hayden would be highly embarrassed if I told him what happened. I’d hate to do that to her, especially if she is my future wife.
“We?”
“Yes. Hayden and I are leaving.”
