Junkyard Dog

Why is he in such a rush? Why can’t he be patient and enjoy what we have? Why can’t loving me be enough? Why are my hands shaking?

I rest them on my lap and lean back in the booth. Staring at the box, I’m afraid of this new step. If I say yes, I’ll create a million changes in our lives. If I say no, I don’t think Hayes’s ego will allow him to remain with me. He can’t be patient because he isn’t a patient man. He wants what he wants, and he gets what he wants.

And he wants me.

The fact is I want him too. The changes might scare the shit out of me. I also worry about the kids’ reaction to more upheaval in their young lives. Despite all of my fears, I love Hayes like I’ll never love anyone else. I have no doubt he’ll love and care for me like he’s never done another person. I’ve clawed my way into his heart and made him acknowledge his feelings. I can’t reject him now. Even at my cruelest, I wouldn’t have the heart to break a man like Hayes.

“Did you buy yourself one?” I ask, returning to eating.

“Why would I?”

“So women will know you’re taken and not to mess with my man.”

Hayes never stops eating, but I catch him grin. “Good point. Women are always throwing themselves at me. I should put an ‘out of business’ sign on me somewhere.”

“When we get back to White Horse, I'll buy you something big and gaudy.”

“Are you going to open it?” he asks, glancing at the box.

“Do you want me to start crying in public?”

“No. In fact, I might bolt if you start that shit.”

Grinning, I shrug. “Well, then I best not open it. I’d hate to embarrass myself or force you to run.”

“Good plan. I hate running. I’ll do it if I get to crush someone at the end, but just to run, no, I’d rather not.”

I lean my head against his shoulder and sigh. “I love you, Angus Fishhead Hayes.”

“Fishhead?”

“I don’t know your middle name, and I thought that one fit.”

“It’s Michael.”

“Oh, that’s much better.”

Hayes nuzzles my forehead with his lips. “What’s your middle name? You didn’t put it on any of your forms.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I promise nothing,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s Corn.”

Hayes snorts. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I am,” I say, grinning at his expression. “My mother didn’t give me a middle name. She said the only one she liked was “Cane,” but she thought it might make me hate her. She wanted Pot for Honey and Moss for Peat.”

“What about the twins?”

“They’re both Eddison. I figured if they had good middle names they’d resent using their silly first ones. I think silly names make people stronger.”

“Didn’t help Honey.”

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a tough chick inside her somewhere. She just hasn’t been introduced yet.”

Hayes kisses my forehead and then my lips. I moan at the taste of steak on his tongue, but he won’t let the kiss deepen.

“If we have a son, his middle name can be Peat,” he says, returning to his steak. “I do insist we spell it correctly.”

“What if we only have girls, or I can’t get pregnant because your sperm is faulty? What will you do for an heir?”

“First, girls can be heirs as long as they act like me. Second, there is nothing wrong with my sperm. Third, if all else fails, I have your kids. They’re smart, and I’m fairly sure I can turn Cricket into a no-nonsense badass.”

“She does have the bitchy thing down.”

“I like how she stares at people until they’re uncomfortable. I wasn’t even that big a jerk at her age. She’s advanced, I guess.”

Smiling, I take a deep breath and accept Hayes and I are getting married. I’ll be this man’s wife. I might even have more children. I hadn’t believed we’d arrive at this moment since Hayes can be a tricky man to read. Now he’s put all his cards out on the table and made clear what he wants.





THIRTY EIGHT - HAYES


Balthazar’s skin glows from yesterday’s spa treatment. I want to mock the old man for getting a facial, but I keep my mouth shut instead. Later, Candy and I can giggle at Dad’s expense. For now, I’m on my best behavior. Though I think I’m giving myself hemorrhoids from behaving for so long.

On our second to last day at Disney World, we take out two golf carts and spend the early morning enjoying a manicured course. Candy drives her cart as well as she does her car, meaning I have to veer out of her way repeatedly to avoid colliding. She flips me off and tells me to stay in my lane.

“She’s an awful driver,” Balthazar says, sitting next to me.

“I’m not marrying her for her driving.”

“Are you sure you want to settle down? Kids are a big hassle.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I mutter.

“You were good, but her kids might be evil. I’ve never trusted twins.”

“They’re good kids. They just like messing with people. They get that from Candy.”

“Lizzy Anne says Candy is a gold digger.”