Page 40 of Delayed Penalty

“Excuse me?”

“Are. You. Finished?” I repeat, slower this time, just to make sure he understands me. “Because I sure am. I did what I did, and it’s over now. So, if you’re finished scolding me like a child, I’d like to get this place packed so we can get this reckless and stupid shitshow on the road,boss.”

The room is completely silent, not a single noise to be heard. Then Lawson bursts out laughing, his body doubling over as he clutches his stomach and howls.

Fox whistles lowly. “Pretty sure she just put you in your place.” He claps Hayes on the shoulder twice, his grin wide. “Come on. Let’s get packing.”

Hayes inhales sharply like he’s ready to go another round, but to my surprise, he drops it.

“Fine. Where do you want us to start?”

I point to my bedroom, which is all packed and ready to go. All right, fine, so this huge pile out here isfrommy bedroom, but still. “In there. Everything can go in the truck.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Fox tips an invisible cowboy hat as he walks by with Lawson—who is still laughing—trailing after him.

Hayes stands there a moment, not moving and still glaring at me. I raise a single brow, letting him know I’m ready to go toe-to-toe anytime he is. I have no problem telling off people I care nothing about. It’s probably why The Dock didn’t want to keep me around much longer. If customers got rowdy, I let them have it.

It’s the people Idocare for that I have a little more trouble with, like my siblings or my dad and his disappointed glances.

But not Hayes. I have no problem standing up for myself when it comes to Hayes.

He takes three steps, closing the distance between us. His eyes look nearly white this close, and he smells faintly of cedar and something sweet—maybe my mother’s bakery. He’s so imposingly tall I have to tip my head back to meet his heated stare.

“When you’re living with me, just try to remember my house isn’t open to the public, okay?”

Then he brushes by me, marching into my bedroom and leaving me gaping after him.

And I wonder if I’ve just made a big mistake agreeing to move in with him.

The guys spend the next few hours moving the rest of my big furniture, then start clearing out the boxes I’m finished with. I’m so behind that they spend more time standing around and goofing off than actually moving anything.

I feel so bad I order them a few pizzas, which I refuse to let Hayes pay for even though he tries. I don’t care if it is the last of the money I made selling my furniture—I’m feeding them.

“All right. What’s next?” Lawson asks, hands on his hips after finishing his fifth slice of pepperoni and mushroom.

I severely underestimated how much these guys could eat. Only two slices are left, and I haven’t had even one.

My stomach growls at the thought, and I realize I haven’t eaten yet today. Or dinner last night. I’ve beensaving all my money to get me by until I get my first check from Hayes, and I ran out of ramen noodles yesterday at lunch. Hell, I haven’t even had my usual butterscotch candies.

“Well, let’s see,” I say, looking around the apartment and ignoring my hunger. I’ll worry about food later. I want to get this done so I don’t waste more of their time. “I’m almost done with these piles, then all these boxes will be ready to go. After that, we just have my spare bedroom, but that’s where I moved all my most precious stuff so it didn’t get crushed.”

“Are those all clothes?” Fox asks, and I try not to notice the judgment in his tone as I hold up a shirt, weighing if I want to keep it.

I toss it in the keep pile, then grab another.

“You know, my sister started an online store this way. She had a ton of clothes she never wore, so she sold them all and made some good cash. I mean, I’m not saying you have to, of course. Just a thought.” The goalie rushes the last part out.

“Thanks, I’ll?—”

“Here.” I look up from the blouse I’m holding—one that still has the tags—and am surprised to find Hayes standing over me. He’s holding a napkin, a slice of pizza on top of it, and it’s extended my way. “Eat.”

“What?”

He shakes it at me. “Eat. Before these dicks finish it off before you get any.”

“I only had”—Lawson counts the number of slices he’s eaten on his hands—“six pieces!”

Damn. I was off by one.

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