“Great.”

We walk about 150 yards up the road and come to a pretty little cottage. Hayden opens the door, and I smile.

Now this . . . is more like it.

It’s decorated in pastels and homey, comfortable furniture, and instantly I can feel Hayden’s calming presence. “This is beautiful, babe.” I smile as I look around.

“I like it.” She looks around as if seeing it for the first time. “My bedroom is upstairs.” She leads me up the stairs, and the entire top floor is her bedroom. It’s feminine and sweet and romantic . . . just like her.

And unlike my bedroom, where she can hear the moans, all I can feel in here is the love she had with her ex.

I look at the bed as I imagine another man in it. Did he have her in there? Of course he did. I snap my eyes away angrily.

I fucking hate that he had her.

“It’s a new bed,” she says as if reading my mind.

I nod, grateful. “Good news.” I take her into my arms and kiss her softly. “Your father hates me.”

She giggles. “My father hates everyone.”

We kiss again, her tongue curling around mine, and I walk her backward. “We need to christen this bed.” I smile.

She looks up at me, all gorgeous and fuckable. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

I throw her onto the bed. “Lucky guess.”

I pull the razor down my face as Hayden gets dressed in the bedroom behind me.

“So you know the plan?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Let you do all the talking.” I roll my eyes as I wash the razor out.

Hayden is freaking out, and I have to admit it’s catching. I’m sure dear old Harvey has a shotgun or two around here.

And then there’s that feral cat who wants to eat me alive under the table. Let’s just hope that fucker is out hunting what cats hunt at night.

“And whatever my mother dishes up, you eat it.”

I look up from shaving. “Huh?” I stare at her as my brain misfires. “What do you mean?”

“My mom is real country. Just . . . if you want to stay on the good side of my father, eat whatever she plates up.”

“Like what, what would she cook?”

“I don’t know.” She rolls her deodorant on. “She likes to cook with offal.”

“Offal?” I frown.

“You know, like brains and kidneys and stuff.”

“You’re joking, right?”

She shakes her head. “Nope.”

I stare at her as I begin to sweat. I imagine organs all laid out on a table, and I feel faint.

“Just. Eat. It.” She widens her eyes.

“Of course I’ll eat it. What kind of wimp do you think I am?”

Fuck me dead.

“Move out of the way while I do my hair,” she says.

I leave her to it and walk downstairs. I text Elliot.

Just about to have dinner with her family.

Her father hates me.

Her mother cooks organs and the cat wants to

rip my nuts off under the table.

Send this to the police if you never hear from me again.

Chapter 25

“Hi.” Hayden smiles as we walk into the kitchen.

“Hello.” Valerie smiles as she stirs something on the hot plate. “Dinner in ten.”

“Hmm, something smells delicious,” I say. I’m not even joking; it really does smell delicious in here.

“Only the best for my loves,” Valerie replies. “Your father is in the living room.”

Hayden disappears into the living room, and I hang back, and I watch Valerie for a moment. She’s the epitome of country loving. I know where Hayden gets her warm and happy disposition from.

Valerie has it in spades. It oozes out of her, and I felt it the moment we met, and I feel like I know her already.

The exact opposite of her prickly husband. I’m dreading that Harvey and I are not going to get along and it’s going to screw everything up.

Hayden worships the ground her parents walk on. If I fuck it with them, I fuck it with her.

I hang in the kitchen for a bit. “How was your day?” I ask Valerie.

“It was good, love.” She smiles warmly as her knowing eyes hold mine. “He’s not as scary as he looks, darling.”

“Good to know.”

I loiter a little longer. “Any advice?” I ask.

“To deal with Harvey?”

I nod.

“Be yourself.”

I frown.

“More than anything, Harvey respects honesty.”

“Me too.”

“You do.” She rubs my arm. “I know.”

“You know?”

“Darling, I speak to Hayden every day. I feel like you and I are already close friends.”

I smile, feeling a little better. “Well . . . your daughter is a credit to you, Mrs. Whitmore. She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

Tears fill her eyes as she gets emotional. “I know.”

“What are you guys doing in here?” Hayden comes around the corner.

“Just talking.” Valerie smiles.

“This is the best night.” Hayden slides her arms around my waist to hug me. “My favorite people all in the one house.”

I kiss her temple.

“Come see Dad.” She grabs my hand and pulls me into the living room to see Harvey sitting in his recliner chair in the corner of the living room.

“Hello, Mr. Whitmore.” I smile.

His eyes hold mine, and he gestures to the couch. “Take a seat.”

“Thanks.” I sit on the couch.

“You two chat between yourselves. I’m going to help Mom,” Hayden says.

Don’t leave me here with him.

“Okay,” I reply.

Harvey keeps watching television with the remote in his hand.

I twist my lips. I look between him and the television. I should make conversation or something.

“It’s good to be back on American soil,” I say.

He nods and keeps watching television as if uninterested. I wait for him to say something . . . he doesn’t.

Rude prick.

“A farm this big must be a lot of work,” I say.

“We have Hayden home to help us now,” he says as his eyes stay fixed on the television.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Walked straight into that one.

I stay silent, unsure what to say next. He’s going to hit the roof when he finds out she’s coming to London with me.

I roll my fingers on the armrest of the couch as I troll my brain for an attack plan.

“Dinner’s ready,” Hayden calls.

Harvey gets up and walks past me out of the room, and I glare after him.

Seriously?

Could he be any less hospitable?

Thank fuck Hayden takes after her mother and not this rude prick.

I walk in to find a spread on the dining table, plate after plate of delicious food.

Jeez . . . has she been cooking for a week? I don’t know if my mother has cooked this much food in my entire life.

“Are there others coming?” I ask.

“No.” Hayden smiles as she gestures to my chair. “Just us.”

“Wow.” I sit down. “Looks delicious.”

Hayden sits down beside me and takes my hand in hers and smiles over at me.

It’s fine. This is for her.

We dish out our plates in silence. “What do you do for a living, boy?” Harvey asks.

“Christopher,” I correct him. “Don’t call me boy.”

Hayden steps on my foot under the table.

Behave.