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“I want to be able to keep Monty informed. I get that there will be things you don’t want the public to know about this case, but that’s his daughter.” He rubbed one of his stab wounds. It still ached, but the pain was dull and barely registered, until he thought about what could have happened. Then it coursed through his body as if someone had carved out his heart. “I’m not sure I can lie to him.”
“I won’t ask you to.”
“Does that mean you’ll keep things from me?” Keaton asked.
“No,” Dawson said firmly, lifting his index finger. “If there is something I feel no one should know, including him or Trinity, I’ll tell you, and as always, we can discuss the pros and cons, and you can bitch me out if you think I’m wrong.”
Hayes meandered through the glass sliders, carrying two beers—no milkshake—and Monty was nowhere to be found.
“Where’s Trinity’s dad?” Keaton asked.
“After taking two double shots.” Hayes wiggled his fingers. “He went to go peek at Trinity. Then he was going to open one of those ‘less than stellar bottles of wine’—his words, not mine—before joining us.”
Keaton laughed. Trinity had commented how her dad would stick his nose up in the air over her choices, but she didn’t care. She liked the brand, and she was going to continue to drink it. Besides, she’d realized that his spending habits on wine were as badas when she used to drop a few grand on one handbag.
“Monty said we should start eating before it gets cold.” Hayes sat down and dug in.
So did Keaton and Dawson.
“I’m so glad they decided to get rid of that special sauce altogether,” Keaton said. “It was gross anyway.”
“Pissed off Audra. If you put that goop in a cup, she’d drink it.” Dawson scrunched up his nose.
“I might have vomited a little in my mouth.” Hayes lifted his burger. His was plain, nothing but lettuce and one tomato and nothing else. No ketchup. No mustard. Not even a freaking pickle. The man was weird.
“Why didn’t Fletcher come?” Keaton asked.
“He’s doing a few things around the marina for Baily.” Dawson shook his head. “Audra said a few superlatives were coming from Baily’s mouth when she pulled in from the sunset airboat tour tonight.”
“Baily gives Fletcher a lot of crap for coming around and doing stuff, but she never says no.” Hayes waved a fry in the air before he plopped it in his mouth, with nothing on it. Freaking sacrilegious.
“And how are things with you and Chloe?” Dawson lifted his beer and lowered his chin. “And before you go denying anything, I saw you chatting her up when she was in town last.”
“Chatting, yeah. But that’s all it is.” Hayes shrugged. But if Keaton wasn’t mistaken, his lips twitched. He might have even cracked a smile. And his eyes darted away from him and Dawson.
That dirty dog. He was keeping secrets.
Well, Keaton would let him have his secret love life—because that’s all Hayes ever did. He’d date a woman—if one could call it that—and then the next thing the guys would know it was already over. Keaton had once asked Hayes why he was like that. Why didn’t he bring the girls around that he took out? No one cared that he wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship. They just didn’t understand.
All Hayes did was shrug and say, most of the time, things were over before they got off the ground.
For the longest time, the guys wondered if Hayes was ashamed of them. Or maybe the women. But it wasn’t that.
And there were a few ladies he did bring around. The ones who lasted longer than a few weeks. But it wasn’t often. And the guys, well, they didn’t push. They had each other, and no one would mess with that dynamic.
It’s what made Audra so flipping perfect.
Dawson didn’t have to constantly race home to the little woman. He didn’t need her permission to go out with guys. Of course, he was respectful and checked in, but she loved the guys and wanted nothing in their bond to change. And it hadn’t. Nor would it.
Honestly, Trinity had been the same way for the last year. She was always there, always hanging out with them, like Baily, who was madly in love with Fletcher, and vice versa, even if the two of them were being idiots.
But Trinity, she just fit. Sadly, she didn’t know it. Nor did she accept it.
Keaton glanced over his shoulder as Monty nearly tripped over the track on the sliders.
“Crap. Sorry,” Monty mumbled, holding a full glass of wine in one hand and the open bottle in the other.
“You okay?” Keaton asked.