Page 8 of The Very Naughty List

“Crowded in here tonight,” I mutter as I let my brothers take their seats first.

“Sure is.” She smiles back at me and touches the side of my arm as if she’s testing to see if I’ve been working out harder than usual. “But you know I always save a table for you three. How can I resist those blue eyes of yours, Nick?”

I don’t say anything in response, and Sebastian shakes his head at me as she gets pulled away to deal with another customer.

“When are you going to lighten up and hook up with her already?” he asks. “She’s been throwing herself at you for weeks. Seriously, Nick, you’re all work and no play.”

“He’s not wrong,” Reid points out. “You need to blow off a little steam one of these days, or you’re going to fucking combust.”

I brush off both of their remarks and head to the bar to get us all drinks. I’m not interested in flirting with the waitress. I’m interested in becoming the town’s fire chief and making something of myself. When I decided to become a firefighter, I threw myself into it a hundred percent. I don’t intend to get distracted and half ass anything. I intend to be the one in charge and take on the responsibility of this town’s fire station.

Distractions only serve to?—

Shit.

My thoughts about staying focused evaporate into thin air as I look over and see Hailey sitting at the bar.

The sight of how gorgeous she is stops me in my tracks. She’s even more beautiful now than I remembered. Stunning, all grown up, and arguably the most attractive woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Waves of her honey blonde hair fall against her back, and the outline of her curves sends a tremor through every tensed muscle in my body.

I can hear her voice as she talks to a few women sitting around her, and my brows draw together as I pick up on her tone. She soundsstressed.

I walk up to the other side of the bar and order me and my brothers a drink. While I wait, I listen.

The women around Hailey seem to be battering her with questions. Most of it sounds like they’re being nosy, pokingaround in her personal life. Nothing overtly mean or malicious, just strings of questions that poke at an old wound—because apparently, the scandal of how Hailey left her fiancé on their wedding day makes for highly entertaining gossip. Even now, after all this time has passed, I guess.

One of the women asks her how it felt being left on her wedding day, and I can hear Hailey struggling as she tries to explain thatshewas the one who left Dylan, not the other way around. But the gaggle of women around her don’t seem to care about details as mundane as the truth. They just want to breed drama as if it were profitable livestock.

“How on earth can you bounce back from something like that? I would just roll over and die.”

“I would die too. I mean, to come back to Chestnut Hill and show your face here again? God, Hailey, you’re braver than I would be.”

Hailey looks between the women who are talking on both sides of her and sips her drink without saying a word.

“Inquiring minds want to know. Have you gotten back on the horse again?”

“Excuse me?” Hailey’s eyes widen as she looks up from her drink at the woman sitting closest to her left side. I catch a glimpse of her expression and can read the shock and discomfort on her face.

“You need to get back out there, honey.” The woman who asked the question leans in closer to Hailey as if she’s providing some sort of sisterhood support, but Hailey just looks a bit claustrophobic. “Get back in the dating pool. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know? I know it can be so scary after being dumped like that, but you just have to try.”

She looks around at the other women, who all nod quickly. But Hailey’s face drops, the light washing out of her eyes. It’sclear to see that even if they’re trying to be encouraging, it’s just making her feel worse.

I fucking hate seeing her like this. I remember Hailey having an exuberant nature that was almost infectious, and a near-constant mischievous twinkle in her green eyes. But right now, she looks like she’s trying to make herself smaller and smaller, as if she’s hoping she can disappear entirely.

Fuck that. And fuck anyone who makes her feel that way.

The tension in her expression rouses something inside me, and before I can even think twice about it, I shove away from the bar and walk over toward where she’s sitting.

I push myself right in between the girls sitting around her until I’m standing at Hailey’s side with my chest pressed up against her shoulder.

“Ladies, you’re not trying to steal her from me, are you?” The question comes out sounding smooth even though my posture beside her feels awkward and stiff.

Hailey’s head whips up, and she does a little double take as she registers my face.

“Steal her from you?” one of the women asks, looking confused.

“Yeah.” I nod. “She’s with me.”

I can’t help but notice the way Hailey’s lips part in response to those words, as if she is letting out a silent little gasp. I try not to get distracted by the sight of it—or thoughts of what it would be like to press my tongue between those plush lips and kiss her senseless—clearing my throat to regain my composure.

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