Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray Page 0,54
off and I slowly turn to Clayton, my jaw clenching before I lean over for the pepper shaker and throw it at him.
“Stop throwing shit at me, Hayden.”
“She thinks I enjoy being pissed on.”
A squeak from beside me has me closing my eyes briefly, wondering what I did in a past life to deserve this. My shoulders sag when I find the same waitress beside us.
“Um… do you, um—would you like the house burger sauce?”
“Yes, please, on both,” Clayton replies, sounding amused.
That prick.
I smile sweetly, reaching over to grab his hand, taking him by surprise. “Now, let’s talk about you wanting a golden shower.”
The waitress rushes off, apologising to someone on her way, but I’m too busy gloating at Clayton. Well, I am, until I hear it—
“You will do no such thing,” Dad roars.
I groan, sliding out of the booth and blocking Dad’s path when he goes for Clayton.
Why is this happening today?
“Move, Hayden, I’m going to fuck up this sick twat.”
“Maybe ‘fuck’ isn’t the correct term to use, Max,” Mum advises, and I glare at her for making it worse.
“Dad, stop,” I cry out, pushing him back. “It’s not what you think.”
His stern gaze hits me, making me take a step back. It’s the same look he gave me when I snuck out late so I could go hang out with my mates.
“How is him,” he bites out, pointing to Clayton as the veins in his temples pulse, “wanting you to… to urinate, me getting the wrong idea?”
“Because I said it to embarrass him in front of the waitress,” I tell him calmly, before glancing at my mum, who looks hot in her new outfit. “Looking hot, mummaliscious.”
“Oh,” Dad mutters, still glaring at Clayton.
“Thanks, baby. Your dad decided to treat me tonight, so I thought I’d make an effort.”
Dad, only just registering what was said, pulls his gaze away from Clayton. “What? I always treat you, woman. Just this morning I did that thing with my—”
“Dad,” I yell, covering my ears. “Shut up.”
“Sorry for the misunderstanding. I’m Clayton Cross. It’s nice to finally meet you. Hayden talks about you a lot,” Clayton says, placing one hand on my hip while holding the other out for my dad to shake. Heat from his touch warms me, and my stomach flutters as I involuntarily lean back into his embrace.
Behind Dad’s back, Mum smirks, waggling her eyebrows and giving me a thumbs up to cement her approval.
Dad, however, reminds me of someone who has woken up after sleeping walking and has no idea where they are as his gaze flickers from Clayton’s outstretched hand, up to his face.
“Of course it’s fucking nice to meet me,” he snaps, before glaring down at where Clayton’s hand is resting on my hip. “Now, tell me what the hell you’re doing with my daughter. My only daughter.”
“Dad, you know the rules,” I remind him.
He sniffs, turning away. “I know the rules, Hayden. But nowhere does it state that I can’t ask questions regarding my daughter.”
“You have rules?” Clayton asks, his interest piqued.
“Who are you again?” Dad snaps.
“Max, why don’t we sit down and order food before last orders are called and leave Hayden to it.”
“No.”
She sighs, telling the waitress to give them another minute.
“I’m—” Clayton starts, but I spin, forcing him to sit down.
“Going to shut up and sit down,” I grit out, giving him a pointed look.
“I’m not doing this again,” he hisses. “The other day, you told that woman I was a male escort.”
I wave him off. “She’s a nosey neighbour of my cousin. She’d blab.” Blanche probably wouldn’t, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
“Hayden,” he growls.
I sigh, turning to my dad. “We’re on a date. I’m still deciding whether to go on another with him. He’s obsessed, and so in love with me. I kind of feel sorry for him.”
“Hay—”
“Of course he is,” Dad states, confused as to why he wouldn’t be. “You’re a Carter.”
“That’s not—”
“Shh,’ I tell Clayton, pressing my finger across his lips. “I’m a hard person to get over, I know.”
“Max,” Mum calls. “They’re going to give away our table.”
The waitress, along with another, takes that moment to bring our food. I sit back down, getting out of the way, licking my lips at the sight of all the food.
Dad’s stomach growls. “The cheesy goodness,” he moans. “I want lots of those.”
My waitress steps back, looking at Dad with an apologetic smile. “Actually, sir, these were our last batch for the day.”