“Actually, most of these look better. A lot of the welts have gone down and aren’t red anymore. We won’t need to put so many bandages back on. Your back is in full bloom, purple, green, and yellow. The stitches look good, too. I think it will be okay to take a shower. Just be careful. Do you need help washing your hair?”
Summer undid the braid. Pieces stuck out everywhere, because of the many lengths. Summer would have to cut a lot off to even it out. Jenna loved her hair. She didn’t mind a shorter style. Her vanity could take the hit, but she hated her ex taking one more thing from her, even something as small as her hair.
“I’ll manage. If I need you, I’ll call.”
“Okay. While you shower, I’ll change the sheets on the bed. I don’t know about you, but I love fresh sheets when I’m not feeling well.”
True, sometimes it was the littlest things that brightened your day. She’d lived on little things to help her cope for a long time.
The shower relaxed her. Her arms and legs were fatigued but blessedly clean, and she felt almost whole again. She took a quick survey in the mirror. Lots of bruises everywhere, but her back looked a lot better. The stitches were sore and itchy, but even the cut didn’t look so angry today. Jack did a nice job. Despite his good work, she’d have one hell of a scar to add to her collection.
Wrapped in a big, soft towel when Summer knocked, she entered the spacious bathroom, carrying a stool. “Take a seat and let’s fix your hair.” Summer placed a nylon wrap around Jenna’s neck to keep the hair trimmings off her.
Jenna’s hair (well, the longest part, anyway) went down to just past the middle of her back. Summer pulled out several strands on each side, testing the lengths, assessing the damage.
“Okay. Any requests? Is there a style you want?”
“I like to keep it long. No bangs. Basically, just make it look nice. I trust you.”
“Thanks. I’ll do my best. You’ll love it.”
Summer worked quietly for half an hour. She ended up cutting it to just below her shoulders. Which, actually, better suited Jenna’s thick, heavy hair. She parted it off center, toward Jenna’s right, and added some long layers. She blew it dry and with the soft waves and fiery color, it suited Jenna perfectly. Summer sprayed it to hold the hair in place and off Jenna’s face. She stepped back and took an assessing look at the finished product.
“You’re beautiful. I hate you now.”
Silent tears slid down Jenna’s face. Summer panicked. “I’m sorry, you don’t like it. Oh, God. Now, you hate me.”
“I love it. You’re right. It’s beautiful. Perfect. Thank you.”
“It’s not too short. I cut off a lot, but I really think it suits you.”
“I love it. I don’t mind that it’s shorter. Makes it easier to dry.”
Summer sighed with relief. “Well, okay then. You like it. I’m so glad. You had me worried there for a second.”
Jenna dried her eyes. “Now the question is, do I have any clothes?”
“Let me see if Jack brought them up.”
Jack came in with Jenna’s suitcase, secretly wishing the thing had disappeared. He couldn’t keep her in a sheet forever, but a few more days would be fun. Fun: when was the last time he thought about pulling pranks and joking around . . . with a woman, or anyone?
The suitcase dropped out of his hands when Jenna came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Her breasts swelled over the top. Her hair framed her pretty face and fell to her shoulders. Jack’s mouth went dry, he couldn’t breathe. He stared, thunderstruck.
“Summer, leave us alone.” Jack never took his eyes off Jenna.
Summer’s gaze went from him to Jenna and back again before she pivoted on her toes and headed for the door without a word. Jenna stopped near the bathroom door and he drank in the sight of her, unable to move or speak.
“You don’t like the haircut?”
“God, you’re beautiful.” Jack closed the distance between them, some invisible force pulling him across the room. She didn’t back away, but stood looking up at him, nerves and wariness in those big green eyes.
“Jack?”
He didn’t bother answering. Instead he cupped her face, turned it up to his, lowered his head, and touched his lips to hers. She didn’t respond at first, except for a slight jolt. He brushed his lips to hers, rubbed