Sassy Blonde - Stacey Kennedy Page 0,21
and showcase our brand, or so Clara told me. She’s already entered Foxy Diva into a bunch of contests, but mainly, these festivals are all about word on the street, which Clara said is really important. I guess it’s good to get buzz going on social media, so when we finally reach out to a distributor, we’ve got a solid proposal.”
“So Clara says?”
“Bingo.” Maisie laughed.
The rich floral aroma of hardy wildflowers carried through the hot breeze as Maisie flipped the page, looking at the back. “Ah, yeah, okay, so basically we need to get there and set up our booth. I’ll serve beer all night, if you don’t mind switching out empty kegs for new ones.”
“That is why I’m here.” He smiled. “The muscles, remember?”
Dear God, how could she forget? Her belly somersaulted at the heated smile he threw her way. Which was both confusing and delicious all at once. There would always be a part of her heart that hated this new growing attraction she felt for Hayes. Some part of her that would always feel like she was being a horrible friend to Laurel. But as she stared at Hayes now, he looked different than he did when Laurel was still with them. Or maybe Maisie didn’t used to notice him in that way. But now, thirty-one years old, with the wind rustling his hair, his arm resting on the window, his thumb guiding the steering wheel, wearing worn jeans and a black T-shirt, Hayes looked hot. Yummy hot. The truth was, Laurel was never coming back, and while Maisie fought her growing feelings for Hayes for a while, ignoring those feelings was becoming harder. Especially when she saw Hayes responding to the heat too.
The more time went on, the more Hayes went from being Laurel’s husband, to Maisie’s friend, to…well, she’d only gotten so far as accepting that her desire for him was a very real, palpable thing that could no longer be controlled. But she hadn’t figured out what to do about it yet.
She glanced back out the front window and finally answered him, “It really shouldn’t be too difficult, but—”
“Nothing is ever easy when you’re involved?” Hayes offered, his mouth twitching.
“Exactly.” Which was, of course, mortifying. She really meant to make it to places on time, to do the job the right way, but it never seemed to work out. Something always went wrong. This time, it simply could not. One last chance. That was all she got to make Pops proud.
Though, as she studied Hayes next to her, she smiled. He seemed to understand and accept her just like Laurel and Penelope always had. He didn’t see her flaws as faults, but saw them as quirks. She liked that.
The rumble of a truck ahead drew her gaze up, and Hayes slowed his truck as they passed a construction crew. She covered her nose at the pungent scent of hot pavement and tar in the air. When they cleared the construction, Hayes said, “Those are good, you know.”
“What are?”
He gestured at her doodles. “Your art. That’s your thing. Don’t forget that.”
“You haven’t seen my work in years. How would you know?”
A mischievous glint hit his eyes. “I saw your painting in your car when I came to the brewery the other day.”
“Oh.” She shifted a little in her seat, twisting the white gold wildflower ring on her right ring finger. “So, ah, you liked it?”
He glanced sidelong. “I thought it was beautiful.”
Heat radiated through her chest, spiraling down to places that seemed to be heating a lot more when Hayes was around. She turned her head, hiding her smile, and took it all in. The plane flying overhead, the bright sun and blue sky, even the wooden fences around the cow pastures off in the distance. Maybe this was going to work out after all…
A loud bang had her grasping her seat belt, making sure she wasn’t going anywhere, when Hayes slammed on the brakes. “What’s wrong?” she gasped.
“I suspect we’ve got a flat.” He groaned, pulling over to the side of the road.
Oh no. Things couldn’t be going south already.
Hayes’s warm hand slid onto her thigh. “Maisie.”
Her breath caught, and it wasn’t over the stress that they might be late. The heat of his touched burned right down to her core, making her want that touch to move higher up her thigh.
His soft stare held hers. “It’s just a flat tire, not a bad omen that everything’s going to go wrong.”
“Right.” She plastered on