Junkyard Dog (11 page)

I
expected Candy to pick a different rental house.
The little yellow one always gets positive comments from broads. Instead, she
chose the blocky, brick house. It’s the kind of house I’d have picked. Like the
fuckwit I’ve become, I take her choice as a sign that she and I are made for
each other.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” she asks after opening
the front door.

She’s wearing a pale gray sweater and blue jeans.
Without trying, she’s got my dick rock hard.

“I’m not. Are you ready?”

“Don’t be mean to my kids. You can treat me like a
turd, but they’re off limits.”

“Don’t be a bitch and just get ready.”

Candy walks outside and maneuvers me away from the
door.

“What is your problem?”

“You make me a fucking asshole.”

“No way are you dumping this on me.”

Sighing, I rub my neck and kick at the ground.

“Are you throwing a fit?” she asks.

“Fuck you, Candy.”

We glare at one another, both confused about why
I’m in such a bad fucking mood. Her expression shifts from bitchy impatience to
something her kids likely know well.

“I’m sorry I got weird with you,” Candy tenderly
says like I’m a whiny bitch. “I didn’t know how to say what needed to be said.
I’m not great at that stuff, but neither are you. It’s one of those things we
have in common.”

“I wish you were a bitch,” I mutter. “I wish you
were a horrible fucking cunt so that I could hate you.”

“I sometimes wish you were ugly, so I wouldn’t want
to touch you.”

Her words don’t tease me nearly as much as her
tone. I know she’s messing with me, but it still fucking works. Even shaking my
head, I smile.

“If I piss you off, or you get stupid again, just
tell me what’s happening,” I say, caressing a lock of her hair. “I’m not a
moody chick, and I won’t fire you. I can handle knowing what you’re thinking,
and you should never assume I’m a mind reader. When it comes to chicks wanting
anything more complicated than a desire to fuck, I need shit spelled out.”

“Are you sure you want to have dinner with the
kids?” she asks, touching my fingers playing with her hair.

“Yeah.”

“It can be just you and me.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“They’re your kids. I want to see what they’re
like.”

“Are you curious how your heir might turn out?” she
asks, poking me in the gut.

“Sure. Besides, I might decide to do more than fuck
you. If that happens, I need to see what your baggage is like.”

“Don’t call them that,” she growls.

“If I get sappy, my balls might fall off. I can’t
chance it.”

“Ick. I can’t even imagine what kind of bullshit
you’d put up with if you lost your cajones.”

I lean down and kiss her quickly. Candy doesn’t
pull away, but she doesn’t deepen the kiss either. The little faces at the window
are likely why she doesn’t climb me.

“Tall Mickey’s has a good kid menu for your
baggage.”

Candy shoots me a dirty look before walking back to
the door. She disappears inside for a few minutes. I look at her neighbors who
don’t look at me. Smiling at their fear, I think to ring the doorbell and get
Candy’s ass in gear. I don’t, of course. She was sexy as hell when she pitied
me enough to ditch her kids. I have no doubt if I said yes to her offer she’d
hold a grudge.

Candy opens the door and hurries outside with the
twins. They don’t look as nervous as she does. Their dark-eyed gazes study me,
and they smile in unison. I don’t know much about kids, but that smiling trick
is creepy.

“Thank you for talking to the school,” Chipper
says.

“No problem. You've got to take what you want in
life. No one will give you shit.”

Chipper and Cricket look at their mom and giggle.
Feeling on the outside of an inside joke, I frown.

“What?”

Cricket grins at me. “Mom said you cuss a lot.”

I grunt at their amusement. As they follow me to
the SUV at the curb, Candy whispers to the kids. They laugh again, and I glare
at them over my shoulder.

“Hey, you have another car,” Candy says, staring at
the Suburban.

“I own a used car lot, so I have plenty of other
cars.”

“You can just take them?” she asks and then shakes
her head. “Yeah, yeah, you can do whatever you want.”

I open the back door, and the kids climb inside.
Candy smiles when I open the door for her.

“Manners,” she says, and I hear mockery in her
voice.

“I’m trying.”

“Why?” she asks, frowning at me. “Don’t pretend to
be someone you’re not. You can’t keep it up, and it’ll only prolong the
inevitable.”

I study her beautiful face and smile at how open
she is to me again.

“I’ve always had good manners when I wanted to. I’m
not faking shit.”

“Good,” she says and climbs into the SUV.

The drive to the Tall Mickey’s is quiet. The kids
whisper to each other while Candy bobs her head to Alan Jackson. She smiles at
me and then back at the kids. Her mood is fucking glorious, and I order myself
not to shit all over it.

I reserved a back circular booth at the restaurant.
The kids sit between Candy and me as if to test my ability to handle baggage.

“Can I get ribs?” Chipper asks Candy.

“They have ribs on the kid menu?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure. Order whatever you want. My boss pays well,”
Candy says, giving me a smile that hints at more than a friendly evening.

“I ate here when I was a kid,” I tell them once
we’ve ordered. “My parents knew I had a big appetite, and this place serves a
lot of food.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Cricket asks.

“No.”

“Do you want them?”

“No.”

“I don’t like cousins,” she says. “They’re noisy.”

The three of them smile, and I feel like the odd
man out again. Candy might sense my unease because she gently kicks me under the
table. I hold her gaze while she grins at my frowning face.

“Why did you name your dog Nightmare?” she asks.

“Because the breeder described him as getting so
big he’d be the thing of nightmares.”

“He’s not scary.”

“He is big,” Chipper admits. “Like a small horse.”

“Don’t even think about riding him,” I mutter.

Chipper rolls his eyes at me. “I know. I’m not a
baby.”

His sister sits up on her knees and pushes away her
brown hair. “I have no interest in riding a dog or a horse. Sitting on a live
animal seems stupid.”

“A dead one is okay, huh?” I ask.

“Sure. It can’t fight back.”

I don’t know why, but I’m fucking nervous, and
Cricket’s answer makes me laugh enough to break the tension.

We settle into a quiet dinner. The kids talk about
school while sharing a side salad. I skip the lettuce crap, but Candy chows
down on hers. I know she’ll order a big entrée plus dessert. The woman loves
taking home leftovers.

“We’re getting a cat,” Chipper announces.

With her mouth full of BBQ pork, Cricket nods. “We
bought the poop box and bowls. We just need a cat now.”

I look at Candy, who dramatically sighs. “We’re
looking this weekend.”

“I don’t like cats.”

The twins shrug immediately. Candy only watches me.
I know what she’s thinking.
What’ll happen to the cat if we end up together?

“I’ll feed it to Nightmare,” is my answer.

Cricket laughs and looks at her brother. They
whisper to each other and then return to eating.

“Which of our cards was better?” Chipper asks.

The kids watch me, and I’m nervous again under
their gazes. If I give the wrong answer, will I face tears?

“I liked them both equally,” I say like a schmuck.
“I have them on my fridge at home.”

The kids smile and return to whispering. Candy
watches me. Based on her expression, I finally fucking get why she was so
pissed the last few days.

“You’re kidding me,” I mutter, frowning at her.

“They own my heart.”

“Is there room for anyone else in there?”

Shrugging, Candy divides the food on her plate into
what she’ll eat here and what she’ll take home.

Eager to change the subject, I say, “I’ll give you
twenty bucks if you eat it all now.”

Candy considers my offer and then smiles. “I want
to say yes, but I really don’t want you to win, so I choose no.”

“Resistance is futile.”

“That’s a geek saying. Are you a big comic book
reading,
Star Trek
watching geek?”

“Is that a real question?”

“Sure. You could be secretly into something weird
like collecting gnomes or ventriloquism.”

“What if I was?” I ask, thinking about the gnomes
on my front lawn.

“I’d still be sweet on you.”

The twins made gagging sounds before laughing at
us. I roll my eyes, but they’re likable kids. Neither one has tried to touch me
or messed with my food. I admit I don’t know shit about kids, but I have a lot
of fears about my food getting drooled on by a tiny, crazed person.

By dessert, I can almost imagine seeing these kids
on a regular basis. I’m not to the point where I want to play step-daddy. Hell,
I haven’t even fucked Candy, let alone started calling her “girlfriend” rather
than “hot assistant.” The idea of domestication doesn’t’ terrify me as much as
in the past.

When we arrive at the house, the kids show me the
kitty litter. They’re psyched about a cat. I don’t care about that part, but I
do like how they want me to be psyched too.

“I like your kids,” I say after they’re in bed, and
Candy sits on the couch with me. “They’re not like other kids.”

“You have a very baby-centric view of kids. Once
they pass a certain age, they don’t scream so much or stink up the place.”

Smiling, I wonder what she’s thinking. Her
expression is completely unreadable.

“Do you want to give me an heir?” I ask.

“Maybe. I always assumed I was done after the
twins, but I guess I could have one giant baby.” Candy grins and stands up. “Do
you know what I’m thinking?”

“That you want me to leave?”

“You’re no mind reader, Mister Hayes.”

“Fine, then give me a hint.”

“Remember the last week at the office when I
brought you the plans for the Highland house?”

I think back to that day. I’ve just caught up to
her point when Candy straddles me.

“Sitting on your lap like that was so
unprofessional.”

My hands wrap around her waist, and I inhale her
sweet scent. When our lips meet, Candy tastes like barbecue sauce. I wrap her
tighter in my arms until I doubt she can breathe. Candy doesn’t complain. Her
hands cup my face, and her lips meet my hunger.

I’ve missed this woman too much to pretend she’s a
fling. I don’t know if I’m capable of love, but our future is my next
challenge.

Candy pulls her lips away from mine, long enough to
study my face. Her gaze is desperate and primal. I suspect hers mirrors mine.

“When was the last time you were with a woman?” she
asks in a shaky voice.

“Fifteen minutes before I picked you up for
dinner.”

Candy frowns at me, and I know that disapproving
look.

“Why do you have to be an asshole?”

“That’s my comfort zone.”

“Comfort? You’re fucking kidding, right? I’m taking
all kinds of scary chances with you. Why can’t you put on your big boy pants
and take a chance too?”

Honesty is overrated. Lies keep people off their
game, but I’m not playing with Candy.

“My last lay was a few weeks before you came to
work with me. It was after some asshole shot at my house. I was tense and
figured a hard fuck would help.”

Candy’s dark eyes study my face. “Did it?”

“No. Besides sleeping and maybe showering, fucking
is when a person is at their most vulnerable. I hate feeling exposed with
people I don’t trust, and I don’t trust anyone.”

Candy’s thumbs stroke my lips. “Can you learn to
trust me?”

Her lips suck on mine, and I groan against her mouth
when her hips roll. I feel the heat of her pussy even through her jeans. My
cock aches for relief. First, I want to take out my cock and let it breathe.
Then I want to give my dick a taste of the sweet, hot pussy it craves.

“I feel like calling you Angus,” she whispers. “Is
that fine?”