Missed Connections

Missed Connections Chapter 11

Feaky Snucker here. I just wanted to apologize for the delay. I've got TERRIBLE tendonitis which has been limiting my computer time. The new braces I've got are helping, so that's something. But thanks for bearing with me while I've been laid up!

CHAPTER 11

His strong hands gently cradle my head, long fingers dancing across my scalp and winding through my hair. Tingles swirl across my skin, and I moan. "That feels amazing."

"I know."

"No one likes a cocky—"

But my words are cut off by the way his thumb hits my temple and works back to land behind my ear. "Wow."

"You were saying?"

"Can I rent your hands for an hour or four?" I gaze up into his deep-blue eyes. "I promise I'll wash them when I'm done."

Pete laughs. "No way. You'd abuse the privilege."

"Damn right I would." I sigh and enjoy the warmth of the water as he rinses the conditioner from my hair. "Ever thought of becoming a masseuse?"

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't get to make people pretty."

"True. But massages make people happy."

"But they don't improve the scenery. And I'm all about the packaging."

"Yes, you are."

He wraps a huge, white towel around my hair. "I'll put you in with Lenora while I set up the color."

He leads me to the pedicure station and sticks my feet into the peppermint-scented water. Pete had called as I was leaving Inner Space and asked if I wanted a spa night and haircut, but he doesn't trust anyone else with my hair, so he's forgoing his pedi to take care of me, leaving me in Lenora's capable hands. "You spoil me."

"Someone's got to."

I wiggle my toes and send a cheeky look his way, smiling at Lenora. I close my eyes and think of Blake for a moment before wiggling my eyebrows at him. "I'm working on that."

"Oh?" He pours some cream and powders into a container, mixing colors.

"Not actively, but one of the massage therapists is pretty cute. Really cute."

Pete wrinkles his nose. "A hippie?" He's not a fan of their chemical-free lifestyle choices.

"No, he seems pretty normal." I smile, thinking of the forced-labor sugar incident.

"Hmm. What does he look like?"

I try not to flinch as Lenora exfoliates my heels. My feet are way too ticklish. "Who's that guy you like from Magic Mike?"

"Adam Rodriguez?" His voice raises an octave. "Are we talking Tito?"

I know it's Tito, but I couldn't resist. "Yes, but with less chin and a tighter ass."

"And you aren't naked in his bed because...?"

"Because I've only met him twice. And we were at work yesterday—not the best place for a torrid affair, though his hands made sweet, sweet love to my shoulders for a couple of minutes."

"And you weren't naked on his massage table because...?"

"Oh, to live the way you do."

He mixes more powder into the cream. "If I were one of the Golden Girls, I'd be Blanche Devereaux."

"That's for sure."

"I am double-jointed," he says with a Southern accent.

"Yes, but shoulder pads aren't your thing."