Ember, he's not going to-' I pushed off the car. 'Please. Hayden, please don't tell him. I'm all Olivia really has. Please.' My voice cracked, and I looked away, embarrassed. 'She's all I have.' Hayden made a soft noise deep in his throat. Then he clasped my elbows and pulled me right up against him. His arms carefully snaked around my waist, trapping me in a hug. It could have been the bunny. Hell, it could've been the last two years that suddenly made me want to stay in Hayden's embrace. Surely- surely not the way his heat thawed the ice encasing my entire body. Or how hard his chest felt under the sweater... or how perfectly I fit against him. And he was a chivalrous type of guy. Right? He wanted to help me control my gift, as ridiculous as that sounded. Comfort- he offered comfort, and I needed to remember that. His arms around my waist made it hard, really hard to keep that in mind, though. 'Okay.' Hayden's breath stirred the hair around my ear. 'Even though I think I should tell him, I won't. But I will figure out who did this.
Jennifer L. Armentrout
Two gorgeous guys slaving in the kitchen. Doesn't get any better than this.' 'You have low standards, ' Chait grinned over his shoulder and dropped bread into the toaster. 'If I had two hot girls in my kitchen, I'd want them naked.' I stood immobile, seeing Chait and Hayden in my minds eye. Naked, cooking for me. Hayden glanced my way and chuckled as I dashed away.
Camden shrugged his shoulders. 'Don't be so hard on yourself. If she is your mate, it's nothing you did on your own. It would've happened regardless.' The phone rang. Kaden stood, but Camden motioned for him to sit back down. 'I'll take care of it.' He headed toward their family room in the front of the house. 'There's really no need to panic at this point, ' Hayden said, opening the refrigerator, pausing to check out the contents, finally settling on lunch meat and cheese. 'I suggest you act as if nothing has changed.' Kaden thought about how he'd left things with Annabelle. There was no way they could go back to the way they were. The next time he saw her, she'd expect answers. She deserved answers. 'I don't see how that can happen.' Hayden glanced up from the sandwich he was making. 'Why is that?' I had her halfway to an orgasm, then ran out of there without an explanation. 'I left things a bit... awkward with her.' Hayden turned his attention back to the triple-decker submarine he was building. 'Do what you feel is best-I'm not concerned. You've never given me a reason to doubt your decisions before. Just remember to pay attention to any variances in your behavior. If you sense any change, let us know immediately.' Camden came back into the room, still clutching the portable phone. 'I think we have a problem.' Kaden's entire body tensed. 'What now?' Camden pointed over his shoulder. 'Annabelle is on her way here. She's in a cab at the front gate.' 'Don't let her in.' He paused for a second. Not allowing her in would only escalate the situation. There had to be a better answer. 'Tell her I'm not here.' Camden rubbed the back of his neck. 'Too late, bro. Barney buzzed her in.' What was the point of living in this secluded neighborhood if the security team let in anyone who showed up at the gate? He made a mental note to have a long talk with Barney's supervisor in the morning. 'Why would he do that?' Hayden chuckled. 'A pretty human showing up in the middle of the night isn't exactly newsworthy around here. Barney probably assumed she was here for Camden.' Camden winked at Hayden. Was this a regular occurrence when he wasn't home? 'How many humans have you brought back to this house?' Kaden asked, irritation filling his tone. 'Do you have no respect for any of the rules we've set?' Camden raised an eyebrow. 'Hey, glass house, now really isn't the time for you to preach to me about the rules.' He made his way toward the staircase with his chest puffed out like a proud canary. 'Sounds like you have plenty of explaining to do, so I'll leave you to handle that.' Hayden placed his sandwich on a paper plate. 'I'm going to eat my snack in my office.' As he was leaving the room he glanced over his shoulder. 'Be sure to give the human my regards.
I was asking if unwinding kills you, or if it leaves you alive somehow. C'mon""it's not like we haven't thought about it." (...) What do you think, Connor?" asks Hayden. "What hap pens to your soul when you get unwound?" Who says I even got one?" For the sake of argument, let's say you do." Who says I want an argument?
My daughter arrived when I was five months pregnant with my son. We adopted Melanie from Korea; she was 2 years old, almost 3. I always wanted to have a family. I had a good example because Melissa Hayden was a ballerina in our company, and she had two children and danced afterward, and Allegra Kent also did.
I'm pregnant.' Brent dropped his bag on the driveway. 'What?' 'I'm pregnant and you almost got blown up, you ass, ' Hayden said shakily. 'I'm never speaking to you again.' He went toward her slowly, laying a reverent hand on her belly. 'There could be a mini-duchess in here?' His exhale sounded shaky. 'Holy shit.
The workplace would allow parents to work part time, to share jobs, to take personal leaves to give birth, tend to a sick child, or care for a well one. As Delores Hayden has envisioned in Redesigning the American Dream, it would include affordable housing closer to places of work and perhaps community-based meal and laundry services.
Arlie Russell Hochschild
Em, you have a soul.' 'How can you be so sure of that, Hayden? How many people die and come back?' 'No one dies and comes back. You did because of your sister, and you have a gift. Maybe that played a role in your coming back, but you have a soul. You aren't evil. There's nothing you can say that will make me think that.' I looked up and our gazes locked. 'And there's nothing you can say to make me feel differently.' He lowered his eyes. Thick lashes fanned his cheeks. 'I know you do, because I wouldn't want to... to kiss you if you didn't have a soul.' I froze. 'You... you want to kiss me?
Jennifer L. Armentrout
I was raised in an Irish-American home in Detroit where assimilation was the uppermost priority. The price of assimilation and respectability was amnesia. Although my great-grandparents were victims of the Great Hunger of the 1840's, even though I was named Thomas Emmet Hayden IV after the radical Irish nationalist exile Thomas Emmet, my inheritance was to be disinherited. My parents knew nothing of this past, or nothing worth passing on.
We're dealing with music that is being played by traditional instruments in a specifically built building called a concert hall.But classical is not - the reference is wrong, because classical on one hand refers to one period in musical history, which is Mozart, Hayden, Beethoven, which is a fine period in musical history, but it was a while ago.On the other hand, it sort of alludes to some kind of "class," which A, is not true; B, is kind of detrimental to the whole idea. Because the point is that this music is available and it's actually relatively reasonably priced.
One keeps looking out for innovation in IPL, but of late it hasn't been all that obvious. Lionel Richie as an opening act? Johnny Mathis must have been busy. Matthew Hayden's Mongoose? Looks a bit like Bob Willis' bat with the "flow-through holes"; Saint Peter batting mitts are surely overdue a revival. The only genuinely intriguing step this year, bringing the IPL to YouTube, was forced on Modi by the collapse of Setanta; otherwise what Modi presents as 'innovation' is merely expansion by another name, in the number of franchises and the number of games.
But I couldn't block out the sound of his voice. 'Hayden wasn't the son I expected to have, ' he said. 'I'd imagined playing catch in the yard, watching football on the weekends, going fishing. The things I'd done with my dad; the things I do with Ryan. It was the only kind of relationship I knew how to have with a son.' His voice cracked. 'But my second son didn't enjoy any of those things. He loved music and video games and computers. I didn't know how to talk to him. And now I'll spend the rest of my life wishing I'd learned how.' He lowered his head, as if he were trying to hide the fact that he was crying.
Neely McIntire, " I said, clamping a sweaty hand behind her neck. "Friendship be damned!" Hayden yanked me forward. I had time to make a very girly sound before his lips began to move furiously over mine. His touch left behind the tingle of cinnamon gum. One of his hands slowly slid down and pressed into the small of my back. For a second, I thought the sun had washed over me. But this heat cuddled around me, pushing its way through my clothes. "Stmmmmp, " I tried to say around his lips. My knees wobbled as he wound his fingers into the curls at my neck, holding my face firmly against his. "No." The hot pressure of his hand increased. A rumbling protest came from his throat when I dug my nails into his collarbones. "Lemme go, " I managed to gasp when he kissed the corner of my mouth. "No, " he whispered. His voice became a yielding puff of smoke. It slipped into my ears and coaxed something familiar from the broken depths. The urge to fight drained away. This wisp of memory warmed me, relaxed tensed muscles, but tightened other places. My fists uncurled and gripped his shoulders. "Why are you doing this?" "I want you to come back to me, Neely, " he said, wrapping his arms around my waist to press our hips together. Fiery lips caressed my face and neck. "I know you're in there somewhere. Come back, come back, come back, " he whispered between kisses.