“Dominic at Carnal Spa gave me the job!” I cried loudly.
At that news, his arms gave me a squeeze and he muttered, “Good news.”
“Uh… yeah!” I exclaimed and he set me on my feet but didn’t release me, just bent his neck deep so his face could remain close (ish) and his eyes could hold mine. “I just got the call. No way did I expect that he’d hire me because I’m not really local… yet. But he did! He said I have the flair and comportment, his words, that screamed ‘Carnal Spa’, also his words, and the minute he saw me he wouldn’t have chosen anyone else. I start next Tuesday.”
“Happy for you, babe,” he said softly, his eyes warm, his lips tipped up at the ends.
“Me too,” I replied. “I mean, it’s ten to four with half an hour lunch break so it isn’t full-time and it’s about two cents over minimum wage since I’m a glorified receptionist but still. He said that he might hire another stylist and is definitely hiring someone to do facials and with the extra business they may need another hour or more. Isn’t that cool?”
He didn’t respond verbally but he did give me a full grin so I took that as agreement he thought it was cool.
“Let’s celebrate,” I declared, pressing closer to him. “Tell me what your favorite meal is and I’ll make it for dinner tonight. Get a bottle of sparkling wine or something.”
“Celebration doesn’t say you cookin’ my favorite meal and wine from a grocery store. Celebration says me callin’ The Rooster and gettin’ us a table.”
I tipped my head to the side and asked, “The Rooster?”
“Steak place up the mountain. Fuckin’ great food. Top-notch.”
I smiled because that did, indeed, say celebration.
“Excellent. Can I dress up?”
His arms gave me another squeeze, his face dipped closer and his voice was low and super rumbly when he said, “You can do whatever you want.”
“Awesome,” I whispered, his eyes smiled into mine and I liked that so much, I leaned up and pressed my lips to his.
When I moved back, his eyes went over my shoulder and then started to come back to me but then they shot back over my shoulder and I felt the entirety of his frame freeze solid.
I didn’t like that or the expression on his face… no, I really didn’t like the expression on his face which almost looked like he was in pain so I pressed closer but looked over my shoulder to see a dark red SUV driving up to the office.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“The Keatons,” he rumbled low and that was when my body froze so I was stuck in position as the SUV parked and out of each side came a body.
Driver’s side was the man. Tall, straight, lean, dark blonde hair. Good-looking if you didn’t happen to be married to Ty Walker and Ty Walker didn’t happen to have friends the likes of Tate and Wood. Jeans, heavy, silver, Western-style belt buckle, cowboy boots, nice sports coat, chambray shirt.
Passenger side was the woman.
Misty.
Bitch-face Misty.
My eyes narrowed on her as I vaguely noticed Wood and a couple of other guys moving out of the bays and Stella coming out of the office and if I hadn’t vaguely noticed this I would have realized they did it because they knew cowboy guy and Misty, they knew they’d f**ked over Ty and they were positioning, should something happen, to take Ty’s back.
But I only had eyes for and a mind to bitch-face Misty.
She had lots of everything. Lots of leg. Lots of tits. Lots of ass. Lots of hair.
Ty’s type, definitely.
She was wearing much what I was wearing. Platform sandals (though not wedges). Short skirt. Three steps up from a normal t-shirt.
But mine was better.
I wasn’t wearing a skirt but cream-colored, tailored, low-rider, cuffed short-shorts. My tee was blousy, a soft orchid color and one side hung off my shoulder. I’d sleeked out my hair, my belt was awesome, my jewelry understated and even more awesome than the belt. And, at that moment, I was really f**king glad I spent extra time on my hair after cleaning the house and before going into town.
Her stuff was good quality. What could I say? I was a buyer. I could see it even from far away.