A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2 (10 page)

According to her lease, she had a five-day grace period to pay her rent, and for the first time, Hayley’d had to use it. Today was day five, and luckily, payday. Plus, she’d received her payment from DCW for Fletcher’s care. It wasn’t much, but it helped.

She’d taken the cash Niko had tucked into her purse and hidden it. A thousand dollars safely tucked away for a true emergency. She hoped she never needed it and didn’t want to think about where it had come from. Fletcher was the intended beneficiary, not her. For that reason, she would keep it and use it only if she had to in order to keep him safe.

On her lunch break, she’d filled the Mustang’s gas tank and had the oil changed. She planned to never have less than half a tank of gas in her car from now on. Before she fell asleep at night, she thought about where she could go and what she would do once she got there. Would she need to change her identity to foil Carlos? How did one go about that? It couldn’t be as easy as television shows and movies made it look. Although she had no desire to involve Paige or Andre directly, she knew they’d help her if she needed them. The possibilities whirled through her mind before she slept, but each morning when she woke, safe in her own bed, her fears temporarily receded.

She would write her rent check and get it over to Ray as soon as possible. She imagined he wouldn’t hassle her if she didn’t pay her rent on time, but she didn’t want to owe him anything either. Her feelings were a jumbled mess as it was. She didn’t need being beholden to Ray for financial help to add to them.

As soon as she got home she took her checkbook from the kitchen drawer and wrote the check. One of the good things about small-town living. Rent was cheap. If she’d stayed in Jacksonville, she’d have been living in a hovel for what Ray charged for two bedrooms and a bath.

She tore the check out of the checkbook and glanced out the glass door. The overhead doors to Ray’s shop were open, and she could see him standing inside, out of the hot sun, talking to another man. She stuck the check in an envelope and sealed it. She’d walk it over to him right now and put it in his hand. That way there’d be no question that she’d paid within her grace period.

“Fletch?” she called. “Want to go see Ray for a minute?”

Fletcher had gone to his room, but he appeared instantly at the mention of Ray’s name. Hayley smiled at him. Maybe invocation of the word “Ray” could get him to cooperate whenever he wasn’t feeling like it.

She unlocked the door, and the two strode across the backyard and the gravel alley. Ray watched their approach, and the other man broke off whatever he’d been saying and turned to follow their progress as well.

“Hey there,” Ray said by way of greeting. He hunkered to Fletcher’s level and held out his hand. “Hi, buddy. How you doing?”

Fletcher slid the palm of his hand against Ray’s. They bumped fists. Hayley looked on in wonder. When had this started?

Ray picked Fletcher up and stood with him. He glanced at Hayley, then at the other man. “Roscoe, meet Hayley Christopher. Hayley, Roscoe Lee Washington, the best carpenter within fifty miles.”

“Yeah, and you be the best liar within a hundred,” Roscoe replied in a good-natured baritone.

He held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Hayley.” He was big and brawny, and when he smiled his dark eyes crinkled and his lips parted to reveal a mouthful of teeth. He wore faded overalls with no shirt under them and heavy-duty work boots.

His hands were like work-roughened paws, but Hayley warmed to him instantly.

“And this is Fletcher,” Ray informed Roscoe after he and Hayley shook hands.

Roscoe nodded to Fletcher. “Young man.”

“I, uh, wanted to bring you my rent check,” Hayley said by way of explanation. She handed Ray the envelope. He thanked her and stuffed it in his pocket.

Hayley glanced over his shoulder at the interior of the shop. “Do I get a guided tour?” In truth, she wasn’t exactly sure about the nature of Ray’s work. She hadn’t asked and he’d never volunteered. She knew it had something to do with construction.

“Not much to see, but sure.” Ray glanced at Roscoe.

“You go on ahead,” Roscoe said. “I gotta call the lumberyard and that plumber that never showed up today.”

Ray set Fletcher on his feet but held his hand. “Be careful in here. There might be nails and stuff.”

There was wood and a lot of sawdust. Workbenches, sawhorses and saws and a bunch of tools Hayley couldn’t identify. Various pieces were under construction. Cabinets, mostly.

“You build cabinets?” she asked.

“Yeah, a lot of custom stuff. Some kitchen, but mostly entertainment centers, built-ins, wine racks. Furniture. Roscoe does a lot of home improvement and remodeling. People looking to upgrade. While I’m getting things going here again, I also help him install wood floors, wainscoting, crown molding. Basically whatever he needs on a job.”

He opened a door at the far end, and they stepped into an area that was significantly cooler than the rest of the open-air shop. The faint scent of varnish hovered in the air. “These are the pieces that are almost done or are ready for delivery. Can’t keep them where the humidity will get to them.” At the other end of the space was another overhead door where the finished pieces could be easily loaded for delivery.

Hayley walked around to look at a beautifully carved china hutch with beveled glass doors and a wine rack below. She turned to stare at Ray. “The table and chairs in your house. The entertainment center. You made them.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. You do beautiful work.”

“Thanks.”

She followed Ray back out. Roscoe was pacing outside the overhead door, animatedly conversing with whoever was on the other end of his cell phone.

“Thanks for the tour,” Hayley said to Ray. “We should probably get going.”

As Hayley was about to set off, Callie Maxwell rounded the corner of the duplex.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath. “What now?”

The woman had been there a few days ago. Hayley hadn’t realized the case worker would be such a diligently frequent visitor. She had no idea what Callie’s opinion of her was, but she had to wonder if the woman was trying to catch her off-guard.

Callie stepped carefully through the grass and across the graveled alley in her low heels. She wore a short-sleeved dress that emphasized her bounteous curves, but she was perspiring profusely due to the late afternoon heat and the effort of walking the short distance.

“Ms. Christopher,” she said by way of greeting Hayley. She nodded in her direction. “Mr. Braddock.” She bent forward and smiled at Fletcher, who still clung to Ray’s hand. “Hi, Fletcher. How are you today?”

Fletcher stared at her.

“Whew.” She wiped a wrist across her forehead. “It surely is hot out here.”

Roscoe flipped his cell phone shut, and Callie immediately turned her attention to him. Hayley couldn’t miss their undisguised interest in each other. She had the thought that she could see radar antennae rising out of both their heads.

“Hello,” he said to her. “Roscoe Lee Washington.” He stuck out his hand and Callie took it.

“Callie Maxwell.”

Hayley glanced at Ray to see if he’d noticed how long this handshake was taking. He winked at her.

“Must be my lucky day,” Roscoe said when he finally relinquished Callie’s hand. “Meeting two such pretty ladies.” He hadn’t taken his gaze off Callie.

When several seconds passed and no one moved or said anything, Hayley cleared her throat. She wanted to get out of the heat, although Callie seemed to have adjusted to it rather quickly after meeting Roscoe. Hayley’s plans included a shower and a change of clothes. She’d make something to eat and have Fletcher tucked into bed in a few hours so she could have her quiet time.

Callie finally turned her attention back to Hayley. “I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d drop off that class schedule I told you about.” She rummaged in the soft-sided portfolio bag she had slung over her shoulder and withdrew a sheet of paper which she handed to Hayley. “You can call the number at the bottom to register.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Again the conversation halted. Hayley was vaguely aware of Fletcher, his head tilted up, his gaze shifting from one to the other of them. She had a bizarre urge to giggle at Fletcher’s reaction to the adults’ silence. To him it must seem as if all they did was talk.

Callie and Hayley spoke at the same time, making their excuses.

“I’ll walk you back to your car,” Roscoe told Callie. The two of them set off, Callie’s full skirt swishing around her hips. Roscoe took her elbow to help her through the spongy grass.

“Let’s go, Fletch.” Hayley turned and took several steps before she realized Fletcher had not obeyed.

She turned around to see Fletcher looking up at Ray. Ray looked torn. He glanced in Hayley’s direction before looking at Fletcher. “Time to go, buddy.”

Hayley saw Fletcher’s lower lip begin to protrude. “Come on, Fletcher. Ray has work to do.”

“Actually, I’m about done for the day. Maybe Fletch could help me clean up?”

Hayley couldn’t decide if agreeing to such an offer meant Fletcher had undermined her parental authority.
Authority?
her internal judge asked. What authority? In truth, she couldn’t see what difference it made whether Fletcher came home with her this instant or if Ray brought him back in a few minutes.

Or was Ray undermining her? It was all too obvious that Fletcher preferred Ray to her. Was Ray helping or hindering? She didn’t know. One thing she did know was that it wouldn’t hurt Fletcher to have a positive male influence around.

Ray stood waiting for her reply. Even the smallest decisions where Fletcher was concerned often seemed beyond her. She hoped the parenting classes would help, because she was sadly in need of guidance.

“Fine.” She turned her back on both of them and walked away, wanting only to be done with making another choice, stop thinking about what was best, stop tormenting herself with this nagging feeling of inadequacy.

Back inside, as she crossed the living room, she stopped short, her attention snared by the fact that Callie Maxwell’s car was still parked in front of the duplex. Callie was leaning against the driver’s door engaged in conversation with Roscoe.

Hayley imagined once Roscoe was out of his work clothes he’d clean up quite nicely. He and Callie somehow seemed to fit together. Callie wasn’t a small woman, which made her a perfect complement to Roscoe’s husky frame.

That’s all she needed. To have her social worker involved with Ray’s friend so she’d have an excuse to be in the area even more often. She saw Callie nod at something Roscoe said before she reached into her portfolio. At the same time, Roscoe reached in his back pocket for his wallet. They exchanged business cards. Callie laughed as she gave Roscoe a coquettish wave, wiggling her fingers daintily, before she got into her car and drove off.

Wonderful.

Hayley took an extra long shower, trying not to think about Fletcher liking Ray better than he liked her, or Callie Maxwell hooking up with Roscoe Washington or anything else. Running her own life was proving much harder than she’d ever imagined. She’d had it easy for too long, she supposed, tucked into the comfy bed she thought she’d made when she’d married Trey. Compared to that time, her life now was more like a flimsy cot that could collapse beneath her if she moved the wrong way.

She wrapped a towel around her hair, tucked another around her mostly dry self and opened the bathroom door before she realized she was no longer alone in the house. Ray and Fletcher had walked in, and all three of them halted at the same time. Ray stared across the expanse of the living room, his gaze eating her up. The ripple effect shot through her even though he was at least twenty feet away. She clutched the towel tighter, as if that was going to help her get a grip on her runaway imagination that was sending her all kinds of crazy images involving a shower and Ray and a whole lot of bare skin.

She fled to her bedroom, mentally berating herself for her reaction. “No. No. No! No fantasies about Ray. No fantasies about anyone. No fantasies about coed showers or naked males or hot steamy sex,”
she muttered to herself while she dressed and combed through her wet hair.

Her self-lectures were becoming more frequent, but they weren’t doing her any good. Every time she saw Ray, every good intention she had flew right out the window, and the ripple effect took over.

Back in the living room, Ray looked up from the stack of Legos he and Fletcher had spread over the coffee table. “You look, uh, refreshed.” He grinned at her. A quick comeback failed her.

Ray stood. “I think I’ll go take a shower myself.”

Hayley nodded.

“I can’t wait to strip off these clothes.” He tugged his shirt a little away from his body. “Get under the spray. Soap up.”

Hayley stared at his chest.

“I like it hot and steamy.”

Hayley nodded. She licked her lips.

“Is that how you like it too?”

Slowly she brought her gaze up to his. “Huh? What?”

“Hot and steamy. Is that how you like it?”

She stared at him in non-comprehension. What was he talking about? Hot? Steamy?
Sex?
With him? Had he propositioned her? And she’d missed it?

“Your showers.” Ray chuckled. His eyes twinkled as if he knew exactly where her mind had gone. The same place it had been earlier. In spite of her lecture to herself to terminate her stay in Sex-With-Ray-Braddock-Fantasyland.

Whatever power of speech she might have once possessed had deserted her again.

Ray ruffled Fletcher’s hair. “I’ll see you later, Fletch.” His gaze zeroed in on her. “And I hope to see more of you later as well.”

He left and Hayley started to breathe again. What was he talking about? He was teasing her. Playing with her. Suggestively, outright coming on to her!

And she’d stood there and let him do it. Oh God, she was in trouble. Out of control. Scared. Excited.

A complete mess.

Ray appeared that evening as she was about to go in. She’d smoked her cigarette and dawdled over her wine, half of her hoping he’d join her and the other half terrified he would.