Page 17 of Hey, Daddy

We were noticed within seconds.

But it didn’t come as a surprise that the first man to notice us was the detective.

“What’s going on?” I asked quietly.

Feeling offended is a fucking choice. The moment you let somebody else’s words upset you, you’ve let them defeat you. And who the fuck wants to lose a battle of opinion?

—Haze to John

HAZE

“Where’s my chicken biscuit, motherfucker?”

John’s words had me glancing up, surprised to find that I’d made it the entire length of the lot without realizing.

“They stopped serving breakfast,” I lied.

They served breakfast until ten thirty, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Damn,” he grumbled. “I was really looking forward to it, too.”

I shrugged, hoping that he’d let it go.

If he wanted to, he could figure out what I’d just done in a matter of moments.

He knew the signs.

Hell, we’d been each other’s wingman more times than I could count.

He knew just as well as I did what the other looked like when they’d just hooked up with somebody.

Luckily, he didn’t push it.

He turned to the car and said, “How long do you think we should stay here?”

“Well, seeing as the stores just opened, I’m thinking they’ll be here any second,” I guessed.

“I hope so,” he muttered. “It’s fuckin’ cold, and now I’m hungry.”

It was fucking chilly.

That was why I’d been unable to comprehend how the woman I’d just fucked in the bathroom had been wearing a goddamn dress.

She had to have been freezing.

My gaze went beyond to the Whataburger, wondering if she was still there, and blinked in surprise when the blue polka dot dress came into view, much closer than I’d expected.

What the…

The woman from earlier was now walking toward us, a look of absolute horror on her face.

And with her was another woman and a man. A very familiar, pissed-off-looking man.

“Three o’clock,” I said to my partner.

My partner looked up and he hissed in a breath.

“Please tell me that’s not who I think it is,” he pleaded.

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