Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray Page 0,96

from the entrance.

“Hayden,” I murmur, failing to keep the amusement out of my voice.

“Can you believe her? Who does she think she is calling me fat? That was my cake. Mine!”

“She was six,” I remind her before finally letting it all out, bending at my knees, laughing uproariously. “You just threatened to make a meme out of a six-year-old because she took the last velvet cake.”

I laugh harder, my sides hurting. She keeps on surprising me at every turn, and I love it. Love that she can do that. I never know what is going to spill out of those beautiful lips when she speaks.

“I’m not liking your tone.” She sniffs, resting against a wall that runs along the small stony shore.

“You, you—I cannot believe you did that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to stand up for me? She kicked me fucking hard, Clayton,” she snaps.

I fall to the bench beside me, my face aching while my sides hurt as laughter spills out of me.

How does she keep doing this to me?

“You told her it had vegetables in it.”

Growling, she stomps her foot, sitting on the bench next to me, crossing her arms. “I can’t believe you’re laughing about this. I really wanted that damn cake. And who the hell were they to throw me out. She should have been the one to leave.”

“Again, she was six,” I remind her, chuckling when she pouts.

She watches me for a moment, biting her bottom lip. “Did I embarrass you? Not that I care. She had it coming. I mean, who does that? Who steals food?”

“Why would you think I’d be embarrassed?”

She shrugs, looking away. “Others are usually put off by my behaviour. Personally, I don’t get it. I am who I am.”

With a serious expression, I turn to her, taking her hand. “I don’t get it either. There’s nothing wrong with who you are. It’s kind of refreshing.”

“Good. Because the sex is pretty good.”

“Pretty good, huh,” I murmur, arching my eyebrow.

She sniffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have room for improvement.”

She’s such a liar, and she knows it.

“There’s an ice cream store next to where we are staying. They don’t shut until eight. We could go.”

“That won’t make up for the velvet cake but it’s a start,” she sighs, leaning into me. “I’ve had such a good day. Comic Con was the shit.”

“I still can’t believe you got them to let you try that super hero suit on.”

She looks away, biting her bottom lip. “Yeah, it was cool.”

I groan. “Hayden, what did you do?”

“I don’t like the way you assume I’ve done something.”

“I know you did,” I state matter of fact.

Lifting her chin, she lets out a puff of air. “The guy didn’t exactly let me. I may or may not have spilt something on that game he was playing on. He was distracted.”

Getting up, I then pull her up from the bench, bending down to kiss her. “You really are a wild child.”

“Born and raised,” she proudly states, wrapping her arms around my neck.

Bending down, I kiss her again, pulling her body flush against mine. I will never get enough of her taste. She tastes sweet with a hint of chocolate.

“Let’s go get your ice cream,” I tell her when I pull away.

She blinks up at me. “With a brownie?”

Chuckling, I nod. “Always.”

We begin our short walk back to the Travelodge. I made sure when I booked a room that everything was within walking distance, knowing Hayden would hate the exercise.

“I forgot to ask earlier because, stealing the suit and all, but what did the home want?”

Nightingales had called earlier about Dad’s treatment plan, saying he needed antibiotics for his fever. I was worried, but my sister assured me she would keep me updated. Even so, I still felt guilty for not being there but when I called Dad, he chewed my ear off and told me under no circumstances was I to go back until I had showed Hayden I wasn’t some pompous asshole.

“They just wanted to update me on Dad. He has a fever, so they’ve given him antibiotics.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? We should go back.”

I pull her to stop outside the ice cream shop and take her in my arms, smiling. “I love that you care. I do. But he’s fine,” I assure her. “But, I do have a question; what did Dad mean when he told me to thank you?”

Laughing, she sags into me, a mischievous look in her eye. “I may or may not have sent