Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray Page 0,57

job, he’ll seem too uptight to the others. I’ve seen flashes of the real him, and I like them.

“It’s Clayton,” Charlotte answers, before turning to him, her lips twisted. “I’m still unsure of his profession though. His email header didn’t mention party planner.”

“Does Dad know?” Liam asks, trying to appear intimidating, but the shirt with a picture of Beau’s face on the front just makes him look weird. In fact, taking a look around, all the boys have one on.

“Were we meant to get a T-shirt?” I whisper to Madison.

“No. Apparently one of his mates couldn’t get down so he sent these.”

“Is Landon wearing one?” I muse.

“No. Apparently the dog chewed it.”

“Don’t ignore me,” Liam growls.

Lily steps up, giving Clayton a small wave. “Hi, I’m Lily.”

Clayton’s expression softens, his lips pulling into a gentle smile. “I’m Clayton Cross.”

“I’m Jaxon, Lily’s husband,” Jaxon grits out, pulling Lily into his arms.

I roll my eyes, glancing around. “Let’s forgo the introductions. There are too many of you fuckers for him to remember.”

“Is he too slow to remember?” Maddox asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Fuck. You.” I sigh at the girls. They’re acting creepy. “Stop staring at him.”

“He’s so…” Imogen whispers, in a daze.

“I hear you,” Ciara murmurs, agreeing.

“Hey, guys…” Faith greets as she walks over, holding hands with Beau, before stumbling to a stop. “Who are you?”

“Her date,” Landon grits out, earning a smack to his chest.

Faith’s eyes widen, and she slowly turns from Clayton to me. “I didn’t know he was male. Charlotte just said a friend.” She winces, taking another look before Beau tilts her head away. “Does your dad know?”

“That’s what I’ve been asking,” Liam grouches.

“About Clayton?” I ask, still avoiding the question.

“Yes, I met her father the other night at dinner.”

“Does Dad know he’s coming?” Liam tilts his head towards Clayton.

“No.” I narrow my eyes on him, silently telling him to shut up.

Charlotte clears her throat. “Um, actually he does. He came to dinner at Mum and Dad’s last night and Clayton came up in conversation. When they told me what he looked like, I said it sounded like Clayton and that he was meant to be coming today but the African kids needed him so he couldn’t. I got the impression your dad didn’t believe me though.”

Everyone stops what they’re doing, until Maddox nearly falls off the table as he drops his fries. “Oh shit! We need to go.”

“Why?” Madison asks, pinching his drink he left on the table.

He grabs his things off the table as Landon starts lifting up Paisley’s bags, Liam helping.

My eyes widen when it hits me. I grasp Clayton’s wrist in a firm grip. “We need to go.”

“What? Why?” he asks, pulling his wrist back.

“Because you’ve scrambled my mind and I can’t fucking think properly with you around. And now we are screwed,” I scream in a panic.

I’m so off my game. It should have been the first thing I prevented when he revealed he was coming at dinner. You can’t take any chances in my family.

We all begin to walk, heading to the coach, when five cars pull in, honking. We all pause, cursing.

I’m pretty sure I hear Liam whimper.

“Beau, you better have cop friends where we’re going,” Liam prays.

“Why?” Beau asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“Because he’s going to get us fucking arrested again,” Maddox growls, bumping into Clayton. “Way to go, arsehole.”

“You want to hope we aren’t near a train station,” Imogen states, patting Clayton on the back before standing in line with the others, watching our parents pull into a parking spot.

“Or that he has glue,” Faith adds, wincing as she glances down at his crotch area.

“I’ll check Dad’s bag when he’s distracted,” I murmur, wondering how my life got to this point. I’m always on top, the one who pranks people or fucks with them. I’m not the one who’s in messy situations—unless you count the time I decided I wanted to knock on Buckingham Palace’s door at two in the morning.

“And your mum’s,” Hope reminds me.

“Or that the town gets quarantined again. It could ruin the whole week,” Charlotte adds.

“What?” Clayton asks, bug-eyed.

“It’s okay,” I assure him, patting his chest. “It was actually Charlotte who had the town quarantined when we were younger.”

“Again, what?”

“I did not,” she states, pouting. “It was definitely Uncle Max.”

I shake my head. “No, it was you. Dad had the caravan park evacuated because they thought a mental patient was on the loose. You poisoned everyone at the cake fair competition.”

“They couldn’t prove that

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