by Keeland, Vi
“Also,” he said. “She’s getting another service after the massage. But she doesn’t know what it is. So, if you could keep that under wraps for now.”
“Oh, how fun! Of course.” She pointed over her shoulder. “Why don’t I let your therapists know you’re here, and that will give you a few minutes to make your massage choices.”
“Thank you.”
Little Miss Enamored disappeared down a hall, and Max and I took seats in the waiting area a few feet away.
“She was nice,” he said.
That time I couldn’t hold back my eye roll. “Would you like to bet that she asks you for an autograph when she gets back…on her breast?”
Max looked amused. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Ms. Delaney?”
“Pfft. No.”
His smile grew wider. “Don’t worry. She’s not my type.”
I stared down at the menu and mumbled, “I wasn’t worried.”
After a minute, Max asked, “So what are you thinking?”
“About what?”
He pointed to the salon services menu I’d been staring at. “Which massage are you going to get? I thought about booking us a couple’s massage, but I didn’t know how you’d feel about that. So I went with two private ones.”
Once again, his thoughtfulness softened me. “Thank you. I think I’m going with the deep tissue massage. How about you?”
“That’s what I already picked.”
The young woman returned. “Your therapists will be right out.”
“Thank you.”
“By the way…” I tilted my head and lowered my voice. “You said she wasn’t your type. What is your usual type?”
Max shrugged. “Not sure I have a usual type. But I can tell you what I really like in a woman.”
“Okay…”
He leaned forward and hooked a big hand around my neck, pulling me to meet his lips. “You. You’re what I really like in a woman.”
Good answer.
“Mr. Yearwood? Ms. Delaney?” the woman from the desk called. Another woman stood beside her wearing all white. “This is Cynthia. I’m sorry—I didn’t ask if either of you had a preference for a male or a female therapist. We have both available.”
Max shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t care.”
“Me neither.”
Just then, a guy walked out from the back—a very good-looking one. He was a different kind of handsome than Max, but nonetheless gorgeous in his own right. Tall, lean but muscular, clean cut—he sort of reminded me of a younger version of Gabriel. “This is Marcus,” the receptionist said. “He’ll be your other massage therapist today.”
Marcus slipped his hands into his pockets and bounced back and forth on his heels. “Which one of you is my victim?” He smiled, and dimples popped out.
They weren’t Max level, but still adorable.
Max frowned. He glanced over at me and quickly raised his hand. “Me. I’m your victim.”
“Right this way,” Marcus said. “Cynthia and I will show you to the locker rooms.”
As we followed, I leaned over to Max and whispered with a grin, “What if I wanted Marcus?”
“No shot, sweetheart.”
I raised a brow. “Who’s jealous now?”
“Me. But at least I’ll admit it. If I don’t have my hands all over that body, that dude definitely isn’t going to either.” He leaned down as we arrived at the locker rooms and brushed his lips with mine. “Enjoy your massage. You have another treatment after this. I’ll find you when you’re done.”
“Okay.”
• • •
“You guys work really late,” I said to Kara, the stylist. After my amazing massage, I took a shower in the locker room and was shown into the salon, which was now completely empty except for the two of us.
“We actually closed about twenty minutes ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that. Cynthia just brought me in after we were done.” I started to get up, but Kara put her hand on my shoulder.
“Your boyfriend made special arrangements for me to stay late.” She smiled at me in the mirror. “Don’t give it any thought. He made it very worth my while. Plus, I think we close too early. People don’t even go out until eleven in the city. If we were open later, we might get a younger crowd like you. We tend to get an older clientele.”
“Well, thank you for staying.”
She played with my hair as she stood behind me in the chair. “So, how red are we going?”
“Red? I thought I was just here for a blowout.”
The woman’s brows furrowed. “I’m a colorist. You were booked for color and a blowout. The notes said you wanted to go red. Did they get that wrong?”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, they didn’t. That sounds like something Max would do.”
“Did you not want to get color?”
“I do want to try red. I just didn’t realize it was going to be today. I mentioned that I’ve always wanted to go red to the person who made the appointment.”
She tossed my hair around some more. “I think you’d look great with red. What were you thinking? Like a Lindsay Lohan, Nicole Kidman, or like an Amy Adams with some golden-blond hues?”
“I actually have a picture on my phone. Let me see if I can find it.” It took me a few minutes to locate the photo because it was so old. I looked at the date at the top before holding the phone up to her. “God, I took this photo more than three years ago. I guess I’ve been meaning to do it for longer than I thought.”
“Sometimes it takes a while to pull the trigger on a big change like this.” She pointed to the phone. “But this is exactly the color I would have recommended for you with your skin tone. A deep auburn. It’ll look gorgeous with your green eyes—very natural.”
Kara looked at me. She must’ve read the nerves on my face.
“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we do a semi-permanent color? I won’t use any ammonia, so the color won’t penetrate your hair shaft. It’ll give you a chance to see if you like it without having to go through the pain of trying to recreate your natural color if you don’t. It’ll wash out within four to six weeks. If you really hate it, I can give you the names of some heavy-duty shampoos that can get it out quicker with extra washes over the next few days.”
I nodded. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”
“Okay.” She smiled. “I’m just going to dry you quick, and then I’ll go whip up some potion, and we can get started.”
“Thank you.”
She handed me back my phone, and I realized this had been the first time I’d had it in my hand since Max picked me up this morning. He’d managed to accomplish four things on my list in one day—start my staycation, go red, see the Statue of Liberty, and unplug more. My natural inclination was to start scrolling, but I somehow resisted the temptation and only perused my missed calls to make sure neither Maggie nor my director of operations had called. Then I tossed it back into my bag.
After the stylist began applying the color, I felt my excitement building as I watched.
“So, your boyfriend seems like a great guy,” Kara said. “He surprised you with a massage and also color you’d only mentioned that you wanted.”
“He is.”
“How long have you guys been together?”
“It’s new. We only met three or four weeks ago.”
“Are you serious? Does he have a brother? I think the nicest thing a guy I just met has ever done for me is bring me chocolate. And I get hives from chocolate.”
I smiled. “Yeah, Max is a great guy.”
Forty minutes later, my color was done, and Kara started to blow out my hair. I loved it already and couldn’t wait to see it fully dry. Max came in just as she was finishing up. He stood a few feet away, off to the side, but I still saw him in the mirror.
Kara caught my eye in the reflection and pointed over her shoulder. “I take it this is Max?”
I nodded. She turned to him. “I’ll be do
ne in five minutes.”
“Take your time.”
After the stylist finished drying, she grabbed a curling wand and threw in a few loose waves, then swiveled my chair to face Max. “Well, what do you think?”
He flashed his dimples. “I think it looks incredible. She was gorgeous before, but damn…I really like it.”
Kara smiled at me. “He’s right. How about you, Georgia?”
“I love it. I’ll admit, I was super nervous when you started, but I’m so glad I went through with it.” I smiled at each of them. “Thank you, both of you, for getting me to finally do this.”
When we returned to our rooms upstairs, I stopped Max before going in. “This day was one of the most fun I’ve had in a long time. You are so thoughtful and generous, Max.”
“You’re welcome, but I really didn’t do anything but make a few phone calls.”
“Maybe, but you pay attention, and you care about making me happy, and that means a lot.”
Max gazed into my eyes before nodding.
“How was your massage?” I asked.
“It was great. I hit the steam room for a while after. But I’m freaking starving. You want to go out to eat or order in?”
It had been a long day, and I wasn’t in the mood to share Max. “Do you mind if we just order room service or something?”
He smiled. “Not at all. I was hoping you’d say that.”
He opened the door, and we went in through his room. We lounged a moment as we checked out the menu, and then Max phoned the order in to room service. While he did that, I poured two glasses of champagne and set one beside him before wandering back to my own room to check out my new look in the bright lights of the bathroom.
I looked so different, but I wasn’t entirely sure the change was just my hair. There was a giant smile on my face, my eyes seemed more sparkly than usual, and my skin had a glow. The happiness I saw in my reflection wasn’t just coming from my lips.
“I’m going to jump in the shower,” Max yelled from somewhere behind me.
“Okay!”
“Room service said about a half hour. I won’t be more than fifteen minutes.” He stepped into the bathroom and tilted his head with a playful grin. “What are you smiling about in here?”
“Nothing.” I laughed. “I guess I’m just happy.”
“I’m glad.”
I turned around to face him. “Do you know I haven’t checked my phone messages or texts since you got to my apartment this morning?”
“Really?”
I nodded. “When I was at the salon, I scanned to make sure I didn’t have any messages from work. I know Maggie would call me if anything urgent came up. But it’s a workday, and I didn’t check email or texts.”
“We were out for most of the day, but why didn’t you while you were getting your hair done?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I guess I didn’t want to burst the bubble it feels like we’re in.”
“Except…this is reality. We’re only a few miles from our apartments, and all we did is stay in the city.”
That was true, but something about the day felt magical.
Max held my eyes another minute, then knocked on the doorjamb. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Gonna hit the rain locker. I’ll be back.”
I decided to get changed while Max was in the shower. I’d been in the same clothes since this morning, and I wanted to put on something comfortable, but also look nice. So I dug out my favorite pair of Lululemon leggings and paired them with a simple top that was soft, but also clung to my curves nicely. It had a low, scooped neck, and a demi-cup push-up bra underneath made my small Cs look more like full ones. The door to our adjoining room had been open since we arrived, so when someone knocked at Max’s door, I heard it. It had only been ten or fifteen minutes since we’d ordered, but I figured it must be room service. A uniformed hotel employee stood on the other side when I opened the door, but he didn’t have a food cart. He held out a black leather wallet.
“Mrs. Yearwood?”
“No, but if you’re looking for Max, he’s in the shower.”
The guy nodded. “This was left behind at the spa. It has Mr. Yearwood’s license and credit card inside.”
“Oh. Yes, we were at the spa until just a little while ago.” I took the wallet. “Thank you very much. I’ll make sure he gets it.”
The man turned to walk away, but I stopped him. “Oh—hang on a second.”
I figured Max would do the same, so I opened his wallet and fished out some cash, which I handed to the guy. “Thank you.”
Max opened the bathroom door as I was about to pass on the way back to my room. He had only a plush, white towel around his narrow waist, and a cloud of steam billowed out from behind him. My eyes lined up with his pectoral muscles, which were sculpted to perfection, and two lucky water droplets sluiced toward an eight-pack of honed abs. I couldn’t take my eyes off them as they raced to the finish line, which seemed to be at some point between the super-sexy V muscles of his pelvis.
After a period of time most definitely longer than it should have been, I blinked myself out of my stupor and cleared my throat. “Umm…” But I couldn’t for the life of me remember what I was going to say or why I was even in his room.
“Did you…need me?” Max lifted a brow, a slight smirk on his face.
I tried to look anywhere but at his gorgeous body. Yet he was just so right there and vividly beautiful. It seemed a waste not to enjoy the view. Plus, I didn’t think he’d mind. Nevertheless, while I was busy trying to find a safe landing place for my eyes, I saw the leather wallet in my hand.
“Oh!” I held it up. “The spa sent up your wallet. You must’ve left it there. That’s why I was in your room. I heard the knock at the door.”
“Damn, and here I thought maybe you’d come to help me dry off.”
“Uhh… Our food will be here soon.”
Max moved closer. He ran his knuckles along my throat. “We could skip it, and I’ll eat something else.”
Oh my.
The large suite suddenly felt small as Max watched me. I really wanted to just rip the towel off the man. But then another knock came at the door.
I shook my head and cleared my throat. “I’ll get it. It’s probably dinner.”
Max smiled ruefully. “Shame. My idea sounded much better.”
CHAPTER 13
* * *
Max
“If I’d known dinner was going to be this fancy, I would’ve dressed a little nicer,” I said stepping back out of the bathroom in sweats and a T-shirt.
“I kind of liked your outfit before.” Georgia smiled.
“Oh yeah?” I thumbed toward the bathroom. “I’d be happy to change back.”
She laughed. “I’m sure you would. But come on, let’s eat. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I saw the food. It looks delicious, and how beautiful is this table? Bone china, sterling silver, crystal—it’s nicer than most restaurants.” Georgia pointed to the middle of the table. “They even brought candles.”
There was a small box of wooden matches next to them. I walked over and picked them up. “Mind if I light these and lose the lights?”
“No, I think that would be perfect.”
Georgia looked gorgeous lit by only the flame from the candle. I’d ordered two bottles of wine, so I poured us each a glass and settled in. She’d ordered ravioli, and I got the steak, but we wound up sharing our plates again.
“I know I said this earlier, but I had such a good time today,” she said. “Thank you again for planning everything. I still can’t get over that my hair is red right now.”
“I had a good time, too. But considering I enjoyed myself when I came over while you were sick, I’m pretty sure it’s the company rather than the plans that I like.”
She smiled. “Can I ask you something?”
I shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
Georgia shook her head. “Why in the world are you single? I mean, you
’re attentive, thoughtful, funny—and you can clearly wear the hell out of a white towel.”
I smiled. “Thank you. But I’m not always so attentive. In fact, I’ve been accused of being just the opposite on more than one occasion. My last girlfriend told me I made her feel neglected, that she was never a priority. It was probably our biggest issue during the time we were together.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
“Were you…always like that with her? Or did things just sort of wane a bit?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think I was any different in the beginning. But she might have a different opinion if you asked her what went wrong.”
Georgia was quiet for a moment.
I could see she wanted to say something. “What are you thinking about right now?” I asked.
She shook her head. “You’re really good at reading me. I was wondering if things changed…you know, after you slept together?”
I shook my head. “We slept together on the first date, so I don’t think so. I take it you’re worried that if we sleep together, you’ll wake up to a different guy the next morning?”
“I guess I’m just trying to figure out what the catch is. How you can be this great and yet you’re single?”
I looked into her eyes. “Maybe I just didn’t find the right woman yet.”
Georgia chewed that bottom lip of hers. I wanted to bite it in the worst way. “What else are you thinking about right now, Georgia?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course.”
She lifted her wine and drank half the glass, then took a deep breath in and let it out. “I don’t want to go back to my room tonight. I really want to be with you, Max.”
“You sure?”
She nodded. “Very.”
“Then get your ass over here.”
Georgia smiled. “But you’re not done with your dinner.”
“You’re right.” I tossed my napkin on the table, crooked a finger, and stood. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”
Her words had been bold, yet I still sensed hesitance on Georgia’s face as she walked over to my side of the table. So I figured I should slow things down a little. “Do you want to take the wine out on the balc—”