Page 3 of Hello Trouble

HAYES

The office phone rang on my desk, but I ignored it. No business calls past six—unless it came through the emergency line. I put my feet up on my desk and started my nightly routine of scrolling through the long list of women in my phone.

What did I want tonight after the kind of day I’d had?

Kinky to distract me from the monotony?

Vanilla to comfort me from a stressful workload?

Loud to drown out all my thoughts?

Efficient to get the job done before I got too tired?

Every option was there in the list of names and numbers.

But then a new message came through on my phone, interrupting my search.

Unknown Number: Sorry I’m running late! Be there in five! – Della

My eyebrows drew together.

Hayes: How’d you get my personal number?

Della: Liv gave it to me.

“Fuck,” I muttered, making a mental note to have a chat with my sister-in-law. Della may have been Liv’s best friend, but that didn’t mean she needed special access to me too.

In a small town, you learned to set up boundaries. Otherwise you’d have random farmers calling you at four a.m. because they couldn’t stand waiting until the shop opened at eight. Anyone who I wasn’t related to or fucking got my business line. Or the emergency line. Not mine.

Hayes: Shop’s closed.

I tapped away from the thread, but her response was immediate.

Della: I’m almost there. See you soon!

Frowning, I thumbed out a response.

Hayes: Do not come. I won’t open the door for you.

Della: This is about to get real awkward...

I was about to say bring it on, but then I heard a knock on the office door.

Fine, she could knock all she wanted. Didn’t mean I’d let her in.

Della: I know you can hear me.

I smirked at my screen.

Hayes: Hayes can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message after the tone.

The knocking stalled for a moment.

Della: You can’t pretend to be an answering machine by text message. It doesn’t make sense.

Hayes: BEEP

I was chuckling to myself at my own damn joke when the knocking stopped again. I leaned back in my chair, basking at the sound of blissful silence—no one needing me, no calls coming in, no one banging on tires or cursing at a stubborn bolt.

As the owner of Madigan Auto, I had to be “on” all day.

Dealing with customers, handling delayed orders for parts, making sure my employees were satisfied.

.. it took a lot out of me. And I learned early on if you didn’t set boundaries with your customers, you’d run yourself ragged working all hours of the day and night.

Della was gone and could get her car in the morning. I knew her parents or my sister-in-law would help her out if she really was in dire straits. No need to stress, I reminded myself.

And then a new text came through on my phone.

Jessica: Baby, I’m outside. We can hook up on the tire stack again. ;)

That had me standing up and rushing to the front door. I unlocked it and opened it up, looking for Jessica, but then a mess of curves and curly red hair brushed past me, carrying a big red cooler inside.

“The fuck?” I muttered, following the determined woman into the lobby.

She set her cooler down on the coffee table, giving me a happy smile. “Don’t be mad. I come bearing gifts.”

My eyebrows drew together, and I went back to the door, poking my head outside and looking for Jess.

“She’s not here,” Della sang wickedly.

I stormed back to her, incredulous. “What the fuck is going on here?”

Della smirked as she opened up the cooler. Inside were several thermoses, along with Ziplock bags of different food items and a can of whipped cream. “I knew you and Jess had a thing. She owed me one.” She shrugged before squirting some whipped cream in her mouth and licked her lips.

My mind went dirty places, but I folded my arms across my chest, the corner of my name tag rubbing against my forearm. Della is off-limits. “I’m holding your keys hostage all damn weekend.”

“That’s fine. I have a spare.” She took a paper cup from the cooler and started opening one of the thermoses.

Now I full-on gaped at her as she seemed to be making herself right at home. “Then what’s all this about? Why are you here?”

“Well, I keep thinking about how you hate hot cocoa and how miserable your life must be without it.” While talking, she poured a drink into the cup, then used the can of whipped cream to add an obscene pile atop the brown liquid.

“So I wondered if you just had a more bougie palate than everyone else. To test my hypothesis, I brought a few different flavors and toppings for you to try out. This one’s dark chocolate.

” She passed me the cup with shining, expectant eyes.

I stared at her. She was like a puppy following you around the kitchen, not realizing its food was in the dog bowl in the corner. “I think I’ll pass.”

“If you try it, I’ll get out of your hair,” she tempted me, wiggling the cup.

“I don’t do sugar unless it’s in alcohol or off a woman’s body.” I folded my arms across my chest, eyeing her up and down. “Maybe we could try a body shot?” I arched a brow.

Della’s cheeks flushed red in a way that made me want to touch her skin and see if it had heated. But I shook the thought just like she shook her head at me. “Stop trying to rattle me,” she said. “I’m not leaving until you try this.”

“So if I drink this, you’ll get out of here?” Why did I feel like this was a trap?

“This... and the four other flavors I brought.” She nodded resolutely.

I groaned, knowing her well enough to know she wouldn’t be giving up anytime soon. That’s why she and my sister-in-law were such great friends.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a sourpuss. I’m trying to help you.”

I dragged my hand over my face, about to explain that she could help me by leaving, but I had a feeling that would fall on deaf ears. “Fine, I’ll try it, and then you’ll leave.”

“Great.” She handed me the cup and watched eagerly as I took a cautious sip.

The bitterness of the dark chocolate actually improved the flavor a lot, but there was no way I’d give her the satisfaction of saying so. “Next,” I said.

She frowned. “Really? I thought that would do it. Okay. Next one...” She opened another thermos, and I took a covert taste of the first one while her back was turned. Dark chocolate was really growing on me.

But I set the cup down when she had another one ready. This time, she handed me a drink topped with foamy milk and a grid of caramel sauce.

“This one is salted caramel,” she said. “ So good.”

I took the cup and sipped it, maintaining a poker face. It definitely was a level up from regular cocoa, but dark chocolate was still in the lead.

She rubbed her hands together, a light shining in her pale eyes. “Tell me you love it.”

“Want me to lie to you?” I murmured.

“Ugh.” She turned and had to dig through the cooler. My eyes trailed to her backside, the jeans gaping at her waist and revealing a thin strip of black lace.

That had my eyebrows rising with appreciation. Curiosity. The dark fabric was such a contrast to her pale skin...

But then she turned back to me with another cup. This one had a mint leaf atop a swirl of whipped cream. “Mint hot chocolate,” she explained.

I absently wondered if it would taste like Thin Mints as I drew it to my lips. That was my favorite Girl Scout cookie. The only one worthwhile, really, if you asked me.

My lip ring butted against the cup as I sipped the best fucking hot chocolate I’d ever tasted. But I was careful not to drink for too long before handing it back with a bored expression. “Do I really have to suffer through another one?” Damn, I should have gone to acting school. I was that good.

Undeterred, Della said, “That’s okay. I know you’ll like this one.” She bent over again, and I took a moment to appreciate her curves without her looking. Without my sister-in-law reminding me that her best friend was strictly off-limits.

I bit down on my lip ring to keep myself from reaching out for her round waist before Della turned back around. My eyes trailed the constellation of freckles across her cheeks as she said, “Irish cream.” Her eyebrows waggled like I was in for a treat. As if I hadn’t just gotten one.

I took the drink from her, a frothy light brown color, and drew it to my lips. The whiskey was strong, just like I liked, but the hot chocolate didn’t really add anything. “Better with coffee,” I muttered.

“It’s decided then.” She folded her arms across her chest, and it took all I had not to stare.

“What’s decided?” I asked.

“You’re from another planet. Are you sure your house isn’t secretly a spaceship?” she deadpanned.

“Come home with me. I’ll probe you on my ship.” I was only half teasing.

But she laughed dismissively, turning to gather up her hot chocolate supplies.

I tried not to be bothered by the brush-off, even though nothing could ever happen between us. I had a phone full of women, after all. Women who wanted to come over and do more than shove sugary drinks down my throat.

So why the fuck was I bothered?

Knowing I needed a distraction from the strange reaction to this woman, I said, “Leave the whipped cream.”

She turned back to me, red eyebrows drawing together. “Why?”

I smirked. “Shall I show you?”

Della’s breath caught, and she fumbled with the lid of the cooler, but only for a second before getting it shut and latched. “Hayes Madigan, you tease.” She shook her head at me like I was exasperating to her.

She had no fucking idea I wasn’t teasing.

That my self-restraint had worn thin after all these years.

She picked up the cooler and left, taking the whipped cream with her.

Pity.