by Jill Shalvis
straight to the gutter. Blow job, both said in his head.
—“haircut,” Lily said at the same moment, and then narrowed her eyes at him. “What did you think I was going to say?”
“No idea.” He flashed a rueful smile. “But it was definitely going to be X-rated.”
“I should reiterate, that kiss was a mistake. So let’s stick with a haircut.”
“Which one?”
“Which one what?” she asked.
“Which kiss was a mistake?” he wanted to know, knowing damn well she was full of it. “The one after the snake incident or the one against the wall?”
“Both.” Turning away from him she strode to the wash station. She was wearing another sundress, this one with thin straps crisscrossing over her slender, tanned back. She had a tiny infinity sign tattooed on the back of her right shoulder with the initials AD scripted inside.
Her sister’s initials.
Lily’s high-heeled sandals were strapped around her ankles and sexy as hell, and the thin, flimsy material of her dress flirted around her thighs as she moved. The entire outer package said fun sophistication.
A complete contradiction to her demeanor.
Once she’d been an open book. What you saw was what you got with her, nothing was a mystery. He’d loved that.
She’d changed.
But so had he.
“I don’t get it,” he said.
“What?”
“You.”
“You don’t have to get me,” she said, gesturing him to the chair. “Just lie back and accept that this is happening.”
In the same way he was supposed to accept that she was back in town for however long she planned to be here, no expectations, no ties?
Maybe she could pull that off, but he sure as hell couldn’t. Though he had to give her credit, she knew exactly how to make him sweat.
He sprawled out in the chair. When he was settled in, she said, “After this I’ve got you booked for a full-body mud wrap.”
He sat straight up, not even the hand she set on his chest deterring him. “Hell no,” he said, even though he had no idea what a full-body mud wrap was.
“You really need it, Aidan,” she said a little too earnestly.
He met her gaze in the mirror. Her eyes were filled with mischief. Yeah, she was most definitely messing with him. “Letting myself go, am I?” he asked.
“Terribly.”
They both knew this was a big, fat lie. He ran four or five miles in full gear every single morning: rain, snow, or shine. He was in the best shape of his life. “No full-body anything unless it’s your body on mine,” he said, and if they hadn’t been in a damn salon he might’ve grinned at the look on her face—a little shock, a lot of arousal.
“How about a facial?” she finally asked. “Or does that insult your manhood too?”
“At the risk of repeating myself,” he said. “Hell no.”
“Your pores really do need some work,” she said. “You’re too dry, which is going to age you. And your T-zone is crying for help.”
He paused. “Was any of that in English?”
“How about you just sit back, relax, and trust me?”
“With all these instruments of torture at your disposal?” he asked, looking around.
She rolled her eyes and gave him a nudge so that he lay back again.
He let her push him around, but his eyes never left hers as she went to work, running warm water on his hair. It felt amazing, he was forced to admit. But he was distracted by what he could see behind the teasing light in her eyes. “What’s really going on here?”
“Nothing,” she said, her voice a little too tight.
“Try again,” he said. “The truth this time.”
She blew out a sigh. “Your mom thought maybe you could use some pampering.”
Aw, shit. “Lily, tell me you have not been listening to my crazy mother.”
“She’s not crazy! And she has your best interests at heart.”
“Oh, Christ. You’ve been drinking her Kool-Aid.” He laughed dryly. “Trust me, the only interest she has right now is in pranking me. So what exactly did she put you up to? Nair in my shampoo?”
She stared at him like he was speaking in tongues. “Your mom is the sweetest thing! She would never—”
“Babe, my mother would sell my soul to the devil himself if it meant she won this round. Now tell me what she wanted you to do to me.”
Lily sighed. “She wanted me to tell you she’s decided to go into an old folks home. In Greece.”
“Uh-huh.” He’d sell his own left nut if that were true. No, make that Gray’s. He’d sell Gray’s left nut. “And?”
“And …” She sighed. “She thinks you’re too stressed and need some relief.”
“Having my hair cut isn’t how I relieve stress,” he said.
This rendered her speechless, and she dropped the handheld faucet into the sink. She recovered quickly, though, he’d give her that. And at the touch of her fingers gliding through his hair, he groaned. Damn. She had amazing hands … “Wait.” He sat straight up and glared at her. “This isn’t some salon voodoo thing where I unknowingly spill my guts, is it?”
She paused a beat too long. “Of course not,” she said.
“Shit,” he said, staring into her eyes. “It is.”
She pushed him down. “You can’t seriously be afraid that I’m going to somehow make you talk.”
Ha. If she only knew her own power. One touch—hell, one look—and he’d give her whatever she wanted.
Chapter 15
Lily took in Aidan’s look of discomfort. Normally he exuded easy, effortless confidence, so this made her laugh. “You really think I’m going to wave my magic shampoo and somehow force you to spill your guts to me,” she said with a laugh.
“You telling me people don’t spill their guts in here?” He looked around at the walls as if maybe they were magic too.
“I’m pretty new here,” she reminded him.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
He tilted his head up and met her gaze. “Yes you know what I mean?”
“Yes, people spill their guts to me. So if you’re scared, you know where the door is. And don’t worry, I get it,” she said soothingly. “Lots of boys are scared of getting their hair cut. Usually they’re five and under though …”
That sexy muscle in his jaw bunched, which she did her best to ignore. She also ignored the fact that he had at least a day’s growth of stubble there, maybe two.
And that his jeans fit him perfectly, emphasizing his long legs and … the rest of him.
And she quickly realized she had a problem, a big one. His hair was soft and silky and her fingers couldn’t get enough of it. To distract herself she poured the girliestsmelling shampoo she could find into the palm of her hand and began to suds him up.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
“Close ’em,” she said.
He held her gaze for a long beat before closing his eyes—defiant and alpha to the end. But at least now she couldn’t get lost in those chocolate-brown depths. Nope. Instead she found herself staring at his mouth, remembering how it had felt on hers. His jaw, rough with that scruff, was square and strong, and as she automatically gave him a scalp massage the way she did everyone, that jaw relaxed a bit and he let out a long breath.
“You’re dangerous,” he murmured.
Right back atcha, she could’ve said. When she was done, she stood back and gestured for him to move ahead of her back to her salon chair.
He walked to it as if walking to his own execution.
She laughed. “Stop it. I’ll admit I wouldn’t mind having you at my mercy spilling your guts, but we both know that’s not going to happen.” She stopped smiling. “You’re too careful for that.”
He looked at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment, but didn’t respond as he folded his long body into the chair.
“So,�
� she said, hands on his shoulders. “Buzz cut? Or maybe a new color? Both?”
He actually paled.
“Aw, don’t worry. I hardly ever nick an ear or screw up a color.”
He stared at her. “This is the worst repaid favor in the history of forever.”
She laughed again.
“A trim,” he allowed, trying to not be moved by her laughter. “That’s it. You hear me?”
Oh, she heard him. And she supposed it was wrong that she was enjoying this so much, but she didn’t care. She shook out her cape and wrapped it around him.
“Lily.”
“Sure,” she said. “A trim. Whatever you want.”
He sat there, long legs stretched out in front of him, his body loose and relaxed, though his eyes tracked her every movement as she stood over him. “You don’t trust me,” she murmured.
He didn’t respond to this and she had to admit, that one stung a little bit. But she gave him a trim and then led him to the private client room. “For our facial.”
“Lily—”
“Painless, I pinky swear.”
He eyed the bed. “Be gentle with me.”
“Lie down, Aidan.”
He stretched out on his back on the bed, feet casually crossed, his hands up behind his head. “My safe word’s more.”
She tried to ignore him, but that was all but impossible. She moved to the sink and mixed up their organic facial product—a recipe she was proud to have brought to this salon—and slathered it on his face. She nearly jumped when he spoke.
“So how are you doing?”
She stared down at him and his eyes opened, locking on hers. Not cynical or amused. Just genuinely curious.
“Truth?” she asked.
“Always.”
She slowly shook her head.
Making a sound of regret, he reached out and took her hand. “Can I help?”
She didn’t want to say the first thought that came to her mind, that by just being there for her, he’d already helped. “This is on me,” she finally said. “But thanks.”
“You know you’re not alone, right? Even if I look like an idiot with shit all over my face?”
“Yeah.” She smiled at him. “And it’s not shit, it’s magic. You’re going to have great skin when this is over. And you’re the one who’s supposed to be spilling your guts, remember? What’s this I keep hearing about saving the resort? Can you save it?”
He gave her a bland look. “My mom again, I take it.”
“She’s worried about you guys. She’s worried you’re going to lose the place.”
“There’s a lot we can do before that happens.” He blew out a sigh. “Might have to cut staff, but we’re going to try really hard not to do that.” He slid her a look. “That’s extremely confidential information, by the way.”
“Understood.” She didn’t mention Char had already told her that, not wanting to get her in trouble.
“My mom blames herself,” he said. “She shouldn’t. She didn’t walk away from her family, leaving them powerless and broken.”
Lily put her hand on his arm. “I knew you then. Knew all of you. I never saw you powerless or broken.”
The corner of his mouth twitched in a grim smile and he shook his head. “You saw what I let you see, what I let everyone see. We were fucked up, Lily, and in some ways still are. But this place means everything to Gray, and he means everything to me. Jacob, Hudson, Kenna too. It keeps us together—or mostly,” he added. “And it’s ours.”
“You’ve earned it,” she said.
He nodded. “And we’ll find a way to keep it. We have to, if nothing else to prove that Richard Kincaid didn’t take it away from us. He didn’t win.”
She got that he and the rest of the Kincaids had their self-worth, their very identity tied up in this place. Saving the place was so much more than just saving a family business to them.
So much more.
But she wished that Aidan could see that they had worth with or without the resort. “You work your butt off,” she said. “No one can say you all didn’t try hard enough. Have you thought about getting your dad to help, seeing as this is his mess?”
“Not happening,” he said in a tight tone she’d rarely heard him use. A tone that said drop it.
She got it. He didn’t want to go there. In any case, she believed they would save the resort, because she wanted it to be true, for him. And because she believed in him. She always had. That had never been the problem.
Their gazes locked and held.
“It killed me when you left,” he said quietly. “Not as much as letting you put this ridiculous mud on my face, but close.”
She stilled and stared at him, a little dizzy with the abrupt subject change.
Not to mention the frankness of the statement in spite of the infused humor.
It killed me when you left. “You … you never said.”
“Didn’t get a chance, but believe it. You going without a word devastated me. I kept imagining you trying to get over Ashley’s and your dad’s deaths on your own.” He shook his head. “But you made it clear you weren’t looking back. Even now it’s like that. You’re here for the job, but you still have one foot out the door, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice when the next, better job comes along.”
This was painfully accurate. “I had to go like that, had to cut the ties or I couldn’t have done it,” she said softly. “I just couldn’t stay here and face … everything.”
“That’s my point, Lily. You didn’t have to go it alone.”
Said the guy who’d always had a pack of siblings to pull together for support. But she realized there was something more, something he hadn’t said.
He’d felt abandoned by her, which was a very real issue for him since he’d been abandoned cruelly before. “Aidan—”
“No one but you blamed you,” he said, clearly not intending to let this be about him. “Do I need to repeat that?”
“That’s not quite true.”
“Yes it is—”
“No,” she said. “I appreciate you saying that, really, I do, but at Ashley’s funeral, my dad—” She broke off and closed her eyes, and just like that she was back there. Sitting in the front row next to her sobbing mother as she met the gaze of her dad, his eyes burning with fury.
At her.
And then in the next moment he was clutching his heart and falling to the ground.
He’d died there, mad at her.
She opened her eyes. “My dad blamed me.”
Aidan shook his head and reached for her. “No—”
“He did, Aidan. I saw it in his eyes. And then he had the heart attack.”
