Rogue C8
“Where have you been?”
“Many places. Wisconsin, first. Then a base down in Utah before I joined the Navy. I spent five years patrolling the Bering Straits. Then I returned to military school, before becoming a commander.”
Parker shoots me a massive grin. “He’s a lieutenant now.”
“Oh,” I say. My voice sounds hollow. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
The man in front of me looks like a more mature version of my Hayden, and he talks like him, but the words are entirely unfamiliar to me. Since when was he interested in the military?
“Are you here on leave?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you staying, man?” Parker takes a seat on the edge of the couch. “You know you can have one of the guest rooms over at the house. I’m sure Mom would love to see you.”
Hayden’s expression is carefully schooled. “Thanks, but I’m staying in a house over on Elm Street.”
“Nice. Renting?”
“Mhm.”
I frown. “Have you seen Gary yet?”
“Yes.”
Okay, then. The silence between the three of us isn’t comfortable, and I wonder if Parker is noticing. He takes a sip of his beer and shoots me his trademark grin. Nope, it sure doesn’t seem that way.
Hayden glances away from me toward my purse. It isn’t until he glances at my leg that I realize he’s looking for a cane. My anger flares up again, familiar and acrid. Of course he’s wondering. He left before I was fully healed from the accident.
“Just a faint limp,” I say. “It’s minor.”
He gives a sharp nod but doesn’t say anything. The Hayden I remembered was silent when he was uncomfortable or overwhelmed by emotion, but I have no idea what it means for the new military Hayden, who disappeared for a decade without so much as a goodbye.
Parker smiles at me. “You’re joining us for dinner tonight, right, Lils? I’m taking Hayden out to the Yacht Club tonight to celebrate his return.” He slaps Hayden on the shoulder again. “The prodigal son has returned!”
It takes me forever to gather my thoughts, but when I do, they’re laser sharp. Dinner with my brothers-with Hayden just across the table-is more than I can bear. I can’t feign civility for that long, not around the people who know me best. Not when the only thing I want to do is ask Hayden why.
Why did he break my heart? Why didn’t he call?
And why on earth has he suddenly come back?
“No,” I say, grabbing my bag. “I actually have something planned, and just came by to say hi. Enjoy your dinner.”
And then I flee, running from the troubled, amber eyes that I’ve never been able to forget.
I wake up late the next morning, the sun streaming in through my curtains. It’s a beautiful spring day in Paradise Shores, it’s a Saturday, and I have a sort-of kind-of date with Turner.
The Maze Party.
Hayden.
Ugh.
I put the pillow over my face and take ten deep calming breaths. Some of the anxiety goes away, but not fully.
I swing my legs over the side of my bed and open the curtains. Seeing the ocean in the morning is my favorite thing in the world, watching as the soft rippling waves kiss the horizon. Some days I take a walk in the morning before work, nearly making it all the way up to the family house before looping back.
But today my view is marred. Standing beside my gate is a tall man with a head of shockingly black hair. He’s dressed in casual clothing, a hammer in his hand. He turns, lining up a nail carefully on the gate in my fence.
Oh no, he doesn’t.
I pull my silk robe on and tie it, hiding my pajama shorts and top, and stick my feet into the first pair of shoes in the hallway. I fly out the door and down the steps.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Hayden doesn’t even blink. “Your gate is broken. I’m fixing it.”Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org
“I know it’s broken,” I fret. “But why are you here fixing it?”
“Because broken things should be mended, Lily,” he says slowly, like he’s talking to a toddler. The spark in his eyes makes it clear he knows it’ll drive me mad.
“Argh!”
A smile breaks across his features. “Deep breaths.”
“Stop being so damn infuriating.”
“It’s a beautiful day,” he says. “The sun is shining. The sea is calm. It’s a Saturday, and there’s free labor on your doorstep. What’s not to like?”
“How did you know where I live?”
“Your brother.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“Fratricide is still illegal in the state of Maine, the last time I checked.”
“Stop arguing with me. Why are you here, Hayden?”
He bends to pick up another nail, looking for all the world like the definition of calm. “I heard you had a problem to solve, so I’m solving it.”
“But I didn’t ask you to. And by standing on this side of the fence, you’re technically trespassing, you know.”
He steps through the gate and continues his work from the sidewalk. “I’m on neutral ground now.”
“You can’t do this. You can’t be gone for a decade and then just show up to fix things!”