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Authors: Dahlia West

Shooter (Burnout) (16 page)

BOOK: Shooter (Burnout)
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“Hayley!” he said loudly. “Hayley!” Hayley must have been startled by his voice because the screaming abruptly stopped. More calmly, he inquired, “Hayley?”

 

He could hear her gasping on the other side of the door. “Chris?”

 

“Yeah, it’s me sweetie. Can you open the door?”

 

She took a moment to collect herself he guessed then called out. “Okay.” It sounded like she was crying. He heard the telltale thumping of the furniture being moved and the door creaked open. Chris swept a glance inside the room just to be sure.

 

Hayley had her face in her hands, sobbing. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. “Hey, now. It’s okay. I’m here.”

 

Hayley choked on her sobs. “You- you were hurt,” she told him. “And I c-couldn’t save you.”

 

His stomach twisted and he squeezed her tighter. “Oh, honey. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. If two bullets and a bomb can’t stop me, rowdy college kids sure as hell won’t.”

 

Her breath hitched. “B-bullets?”

 

“I was wearing armor both times. I’m a lucky guy, Slick. Plus, I’m good at what I do. Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I promise you.” Her hand accidentally brushed gun tucked inside his waistband and she drew in a sharp breath. “I told you, I’m good at what I do, Slick. You’ve got to trust me. I play it safe. Always.” She stepped back and he looked her over. It was obvious she’d been crying in her sleep. “Give me a pillow, Slick.”

 

Her eyebrows knitted together. “W-what?”

 

“A pillow. I’m on your couch tonight.”

 

She stared at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

 

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Are you ever gonna stop busting my balls?” Slowly, she slid a pillow off the mattress and handed it to him. “Good night, Hayley.”

 

Chris tossed the pillow on the couch, set the .44 down on the coffee table, and laid down. He listened for it, but did not hear Slick moving the dresser back in front of her bedroom door. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes.

 

In the morning, she emerged wearing yoga pants and a t shirt. “Thanks for staying,” she told him as he sat up and rubbed a hand over his face.

 

“Not a problem, Slick. Think you could make me some of those pancakes, though?”

 

She smiled and nodded and started the coffee maker. As it brewed she set about gathering ingredients in the kitchen. He ambled over and leaned against the counter watching her. “So what’s on the menu today?” he asked her. “For lunch.”

 

“Tofu chili.”

 

He grimaced. “Tell me you’re not serious.”

 

“It’s healthy and you said I have a fat ass!”

 

“Damn. You really do hold a grudge.” The coffee maker beeped and he retrieved two cups from the cupboard where he knew she kept them. On his way to the coffee maker, he swatted her ass with the back of his hand. She yelped and dropped a whole egg into the pancake batter. “I said I
like
your ass, Slick. Learn to take a compliment.” He poured a mug, tossed in three sugar cubes Slick kept in a bowl by the coffee maker, and handed it to her. Her face had turned red and she took the mug from him, ducking her head to avoid his gaze.

 

“We’re having pulled pork sandwiches,” she muttered.

 

“Thank God,” Chris said, pouring himself some coffee.

 

“And I’m making chocolate cake.”

 

His eyebrows knitted together and he took a sip from his steaming mug of black joe. “Thought that was for Poker Night.”

 

“It is,” Hayley said, setting a pan on the burner and heating it. “It’s a new recipe from a magazine and I want to try it out first before I make it for real.”

 

“Oh, so I’m your guinea pig?”

 

“That a problem?” she asked.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Good.”

 

Slick sliced bananas into the batter while the butter melted into the pan. “Do you like bacon?” she asked suddenly.

 

“Obviously. I am
male
, Slick.”

 

She nodded, spooning a bit of the batter onto the pan. “I don’t have any. But I could get some. Like for BLT’s and stuff. I wouldn’t normally buy bacon because you only get it in that huge pack and it would take a really long time to eat that much bacon.”

 

“Perhaps you don’t love bacon as much as I do,” he mused.

 

She laughed. “So,” she cleared her throat a little nervously and flipped the pancake with a spatula. “Maybe we could go to the store today. After lunch.”

 

He thought it was cute the way she was asking him for a ride. “Slick, I already said that.”

 

She looked up at him. “No, you didn’t.”

 

“Yes, I did.”

 

“No,” she said, adamantly shaking her head.

 

“I said last week we’d go to the store.”

 

“That was last week, though.”

 

He sighed dramatically. “I meant every week. I thought it was obvious.”

 

“Oh. Thanks.”

 

He nodded. “We need better coffee though,” he declared. “What is this?”

 

“It’s Hazelnut Vanilla.”

 

He frowned. “Slick, that’s girly coffee.”

 

“Well, I don’t really like coffee.”

 

“Okay, now you’re just scaring me.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him and handed him a plate of three cakes. He set it on the island, dug a fork out of the drawer, and searched for the syrup in the fridge. Slick sliced off a pat of butter and put it on top for him. He ate standing up at the counter. She made him two more and three for herself and they took their plates to her small table.

 

“These are really good,” he told her.

 

“I’m thinking of branching out. Pecans, chocolate chips, cinnamon, pumpkin.”

 

“Pumpkin pancakes? Sounds awesome,” he decided.

 

“Well,” she said, taking a bite and chewing it thoughtfully. “You could come over sometime and I could make them. ‘Cause I really want to try them.”

 

“So far this guinea pig thing is working out,” he declared around a mouthful of pancakes. “Looking forward to the chocolate cake.”

 

“Me too,” she replied.

 

Chris finished mowing, showered, and headed back over to Hayley’s place for lunch. Thank God she was lying about the tofu chili and telling the truth about the pulled pork sandwiches. They were delicious. He ate two and would have gone for a third but he wanted to save room for the cake that finally, finally!, finished cooling on the rack. He hung out against the counter watching her whip up a quick batch of chocolate buttercream frosting and finish it off. He tried to swipe some icing with his finger but she whacked him with a wooden spoon and ordered him to gather some plates and forks.

 

Setting everything on the deck, Chris cut himself a giant slice of the gorgeous confection, picked up his fork, and took a huge bite. But either he’d had a mini stroke while mowing or something had gone terribly wrong in the oven because it was terrible. Just God awful. He struggled to swallow and chased it down with water. “Slick, what the hell? It’s disgusting. It’s horrifying. It’s…
fake cake.

 

She smiled at him, while cutting a small bite of her own slice. “It’s healthier. No sugar, no gluten.”

 

He wrinkled his nose. “No fun!” he declared. “It is a No Fun Cake. I didn’t even know you could bake a cake with
zero
fun in it. Cake is cake. Cake is total fun. It’s birthday parties, and graduations, and weddings. Fun stuff! You can’t have a cake with no fun in it! It’s un-American!” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you defiled a sacred thing like cake just to jerk me around. You’re evil, Hayley Turner. Just plain evil.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

 

Thursday night was Poker Night, and, as promised, Hayley appeared at the back door, arms full. She unpacked everything on Chris’ counter. The boys wandered into the small kitchen and watched her slice a glistening chocolate confection with a large knife.

 

Chris reached out and grabbed Tex’s arm. “Don’t eat it! The cake is a lie!”

 

Tex cocked his head at Chris and then eyed the cake. “Looks okay.”

 

“It’s not,” Chris insisted. “It’s a no sugar, no gluten, no fun cake.”

 

Tex looked at Slick who smiled sweetly at him. “I would never do that to you,” she told Tex.

 

Tex nodded and shoved a forkful into his mouth. He groaned. “Ohhhh. Mmmm. Yeah okay. I see what’s going on here. You have a head injury or something,” he told Chris with his mouth full. “Because this is the damn cake
in the world
!” To Hayley he asked, “Why is this cake so good?”

“Sour cream and dark chocolate,” she replied.

 

“What?” Chris shouted. “I didn’t get Sour Cream! Or chocolate! I got fake cake!”

 

“Well, she doesn’t like you,” Hawk pointed out, munching on his own uber-sized slice. “But she likes us.”

 

“Apparently,” said Doc, licking buttercream frosting off his fingers.

 

Chris threw up his hands. “I can’t believe this! Why do they get real cake?”

 

“You know why,” Hayley told him matter of factly.

 

Chris gaped at Hayley then tried to grab Tex’s plate. “Give me some!”

 

Tex smacked his arm and moved away. “No! You had a failure to communicate. Now you don’t get cake!”

 

“I order you to give me that cake!”

 

“I defy those orders,” Tex said, shoving a large hunk into his mouth. “This is so worth the stockade,” he declared.

 

“This is my house! That is my cake!” Chris yelled. He turned on Hayley. “You gave my cake away, woman!”

 

“Surely you’ll have a birthday at some point,” Hayley replied cooly. “Maybe I’ll make you a cake then.”

 

Hawk laughed. “His birthday is like two months away.”

 

“You people suck!” Chris shouted and stormed outside. He flopped down onto one of the deck chairs. He heard the screen door open, but he didn’t turn.

 

“Chris,” Hayley said quietly.

 

“Go away. I’m angry.”

 

“Chris,” she admonished.

 

“Seriously. Go back inside.”

 

Hayley put a hand on his shoulder, leaned down and set a plate in front of him. He blinked at it. It was a whole little mini-cake. His heart leapt for joy, but he kept his voice cool. “Is it real?”

 

“Very,” Hayley assured him. “And it’s all for you.”

 

Chris took the fork she handed him and shaved off a piece. He brought it to his lips and experienced cake nirvana. “You’re very dangerous,” he informed her, taking a bigger bite. “Very devious. If you had enough money and a small army, you could take over the whole country. And no one would care because you’re so damn cute.”

 

“Of course they wouldn’t mind. I’d let them eat cake,” Hayley replied, grinning.

 

Chris finished off his mini-cake and headed back inside. The boys settled at the table and Doc started dealing the cards. Hayley gathered the cake plates and started washing them. “I can do that tomorrow,” Chris called out to her.

 

“It’s fine,” she assured him, filling the sink with water.

 

Chris would have grumbled, but his belly was full of delicious sour cream, dark chocolate cake and he was still riding the sugar high.

BOOK: Shooter (Burnout)
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