Asking for Trouble (Line of Duty #4)(38)

Hayden narrowed her eyes. “Jesus, you really do tell each other everything.”

“You owe me,” Story continued indignantly. “I’ve been keeping up my end of the sex talk and I get nothing in return. Nothing! You owe me some details.”

Daniel held up single finger. “Wait a minute. You talk to Hayden about what we do in bed?”

Her best friend sank down into her seat and Hayden sighed. “Oh, relax, Danny. She walks around our apartment humming like a freaking Disney princess. Birds literally perch on her shoulder when we go outside. You should be proud.”

Daniel smirked at Story. “Did you tell her about the new leg thing?”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Brent griped.

Before an awkward silence could settle over the table, Story pushed back her chair and stood. “Why don’t we all just get some air?”

…

Brent and Hayden walked in tense silence, trailing Story and Daniel on the boardwalk. The sun had just begun to set, soft music drifted from portable radios on the beach, a soft breeze rolled off the ocean to cool Hayden’s skin. It was a beautiful night. Perfect for Daniel’s imminent marriage proposal to her best friend.

Hayden wanted to scream.

The man walking so casually next to her actually had the nerve to whistle. Whistle. Her willpower had never faced such a powerful test. Without it, she would have already tackled him into the sand, pinned his arms over his head…and kissed the shit out of him. That, that, is what had her so angry. She didn’t understand her reaction any more than she understood his sudden revelation at dinner regarding their physical relationship. What was his game? Getting back at her for turning him down? Or perhaps Brent thought if he bit the bullet and blurted the news to their friends, she’d have no excuses not to jump into bed with him.

Whatever his reasons, she found her resolve weakening at an alarming rate. He looked edible in his dinner clothes, all raw maleness wrapped up in gray trousers and a loose black dress shirt, barely containing the solid muscle beneath. His swagger held an extra hint of arrogance tonight, doing precious little to dim his appeal. Her hormones were still performing a sultry tango in her stomach, left over from the drive and the almost-sex in Brent’s room. Combined with her frayed nerves, courtesy of her upcoming decision, Hayden felt ready to snap. She felt out of control. She needed something. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that something was the six-foot-five hormone-whisperer walking beside her, whistling the Happy Days theme song.

She couldn’t hold on to her irritation anymore. “Stop whistling, Flo. You’re scaring people. When a man your size whistles, he’s just chopped up half the cast of a horror film.”

Without missing a beat, he started whistling the theme song to Halloween.

“Oh, real cute.” She whipped off her sandals so she could walk barefoot and felt a surge of satisfaction when his whistling stuttered. Huh. Brent was a foot man. Go figure. “I don’t know what you were hoping to accomplish back there, but it didn’t work.”

“Did it piss you off?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, then. Mission accomplished.” He shrugged. “After all, that’s what enemies do, right? Piss each other off? And I’d say dinner just won me the gold medal at the piss-your-enemy-off-Olympics.”

Hayden halted abruptly and Brent followed suit. “Do you honestly think I don’t see what you’re doing? You’re ridiculously transparent.” She poked him hard in the chest with her finger. “You think you can goad me into changing my mind?”

“Well, maybe I’ve changed my mind, too.” His irritation finally showing through, Brent shoved his hands into his pockets. “Had you considered that?”

That brought her up short. No, she hadn’t considered that possibility. Perhaps she’d finally succeeded this afternoon in pushing him away. Exactly what she’d wanted to happen, right? Except the thought of him moving on so quickly make her chest feel heavy and tight. Wanting to hide the emotions she didn’t feel capable of keeping off her face, Hayden ducked her head and kept walking. She heard him curse and follow quickly behind her.

“Hayden, wait—”

They both fell silent when they noticed the scene playing out before them. Just ahead, silhouetted by the pink-streaked sunset, their best friend was down on one knee proposing to the other. Only, it wasn’t Daniel as they’d expected. Story smiled up at a dumbfounded Daniel from where she knelt on the boardwalk, holding up a ring box.

Hayden couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that rose from her throat. She should have suspected her friend would take convention and knock it on its square ass. At that moment, she couldn’t have been more proud of her friend. Over the last two months, she’d transformed into someone who didn’t take no for an answer. A woman who made her own decisions and to hell with what anyone else thought. A little blond force to be reckoned with.

It occurred to Hayden then that she herself had turned into quite the opposite. Someone who followed her marching orders, didn’t make waves. If she did her duty like a good soldier and married Stuart, she’d never experience the kind of romantic bliss currently radiating from Daniel and Story. She’d never be loved. Would never love anyone back.

Her self-pity didn’t belong there, not when the person she treasured most in the world was experiencing her perfect moment in the sun. She hated herself for having that feeling. Hated her impossible situation. Hated the man next to her for making her feel things she might go the rest of her life without ever feeling again.