hoped she would.” I shook my head. “Your mistakes with your daughter are not my responsibility to clean up.” I wasn’t going to do this with him. “Just leave, Thomas,” I said. “Figure out a way to fix things with Leta without blaming me for your problems.”
“You are to blame, Monroe,” he spat unreasonably.
“You know what-”
“Is there a problem here?” Both our heads turned, and I wanted the ground to swallow me up when I saw Sayer Hayes, the man I’ve been trying to avoid for days, standing in my driveway. I’d been so caught up in my fight with Thomas, I hadn’t even noticed him walking up.
“Nothing that I would consider your business,” Thomas snapped. “This is a private conversation.”
Sayer cocked his head and narrowed those sexy blue eyes of his. “See, normally, I’d agree,” he replied. “But I’d say you forfeited on privacy the second you decided to have this conversation on the porch and not inside the house.”
Thomas turned his entire body to face him. “That still doesn’t make this any of your business,” he pointed out. “It simply makes it entertainment.”
And then Sayer Hayes did something I’ll probably slit my wrists over later.
He smirked, walked through the grass and onto the walkway, pushed past Thomas, and then came to stand next to me on my porch. And my heart almost escaped out of my chest when he said, “That’s where you’re wrong, Ex-husband. Anything that has to do with Monroe is my business.”
Thomas was quick to sneer, but then his eyes rounded a bit when realization dawned. “Excuse me?” he hissed.
Right?!
I stood there in utter disbelief as Sayer Hayes lied through his teeth at my ex-husband. “Monroe’s mine,” he announced like his pants weren’t going to catch on fire for lying. And he was a firefighter, for Christ’s sake. “So, I’d say a man thinking he can yell at her is my business.”
“She’s what?” Thomas exclaimed.
“She’s mine,” Sayer repeated. Then he looked down at me and smiled. “Right, baby?”
What. In. The. Hell?
Chapter 8
Sayer~
I knew she couldn’t hide from me forever. Though, she had given it great effort.
This past week, when it was obvious that she was avoiding me, I had hoped it was because she was embarrassed and not upset. Embarrassment I could work with. We could wave it away with an awkward laugh and forget about it. Being upset was an entirely different matter.
After Monroe had left the station, forty minutes later, another building inspector had shown up. Kevin was his name, and the inspection of the firehouse had gone off without a hitch.
Well.
Almost hitchless.
I had been a growling jackass, and Kellen had locked me in the Division Chief’s office until the inspection had been completed. Once we had passed and Kevin had gone on his way, Chief Malone had demanded to know what was going on. It had been on the tip of my tongue to tell him, but I had decided against it. I was a firm believer that harassment came after you’ve already told someone how you felt about their behavior, and they made no effort to fix it. I had made it clear to Daria how I felt about what had happened with Monroe and how I felt about her snooping into my personal life. She had a choice to make on how she would conduct herself from here on out, and that would determine if I went to the Chief or not with a formal complaint.
After everyone had kept mum on why I’d been acting like a lunatic, Chief had just grumbled about us being a bunch of children and had gone on with his day. Everyone else, including Daria, had steered clear of me until end of shift.
I’d had to work through Sunday, but Monday and Tuesday, I hadn’t seen hide or hair of Monroe Stewart. And, believe me, I’d had my face glued to my windows for a chance to see her and make things right.
I just never imagined I’d finally catch a glimpse of her while she was on her porch, fighting with her ex-husband.
Was it immature that I hated that she had an ex-husband? A bit.
I didn’t mind the guy, though, because I could take him if it came down to it. And I didn’t mind the daughter because she seemed like a sweet kid from the very few times I’ve interacted with her. But it annoyed me that, at one point in time, Monroe had loved this tool enough to marry him and have a