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“I don’t have any mirrors. I got rid of them.”
“But I have one.” She held up a hand mirror.
He turned away and shook his head. “I’ll see it when you’re all done.”
After the trimmings were swept aside, she grabbed a comb and the scissors. Then she set to work trimming his beard as short as she could. She’d never trimmed a man’s beard before. Sure, she’d shaved her father when he’d been in the hospital but his stubble was nothing compared to Deacon’s full-on beard.
But what got to her more was being this close to him. There was something special about him. It was more than him being a famous movie star. It was an air of strength and power that exuded from him. And she was feeling herself being drawn closer and closer to him.
She’d never experienced such an intense attraction and it scared her. Not the part about her father or the accident. No—it was the fact that she didn’t know how she was going to return to a world without Deacon’s reluctant grin, or seeing the way his eyes twinkled when he was happy.
As the fund-raiser grew closer, her time with Deacon was running out. She wanted this time to count. If all she had left when this was over were the memories, then she wanted them to be earth-shattering, pulse-quickening memories.
* * *
Deacon didn’t know how much time had passed.
His eyes were closed as he focused on Gabrielle’s gentle touch. He didn’t know that a haircut and shave could be so tantalizing. Thank goodness she didn’t attempt to make small talk because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to follow along.
Each time her fingertips brushed over his skin, it short-circuited his thoughts. And each time her body brushed up against him, he longed to reach out and pull her onto his lap. He ached to press his mouth to hers. He smothered a groan.
“Are you okay?” Gabrielle paused.
He opened his eyes to find her staring directly at him. “Um, yes.”
“You’re sure?”
She’d heard him moan? He smothered a curse. He thought that he’d caught himself. Deciding it was best that he change the subject, he asked, “How’s it going?”
“Before I go any further, I need to soften your beard.” She turned on the water.
He couldn’t see, but he could imagine Gabrielle letting the water get hot and steamy. And the next thing he knew, she was draping a hot towel over his jaw. The heat gave him a bit of a start, but he soon adjusted to it.
All the while, he was tempted to ask for her mirror just to make sure his hair wasn’t an utter mess, but then he decided at this point, it didn’t matter. If worse came to worse, he’d shave his entire head. At one point in his life, his hair had only been touched by the finest stylist in the movie business, but that felt like a lifetime ago. These days his hair didn’t matter to anyone.
Gabrielle moved in front of him. “I have to admit I’ve only ever shaved my father when he was in the hospital.”
“Don’t worry. I trust you.” It wasn’t until the words crossed his lips that he realized what he’d uttered. He would retract the words if he could. But now they were out there. They filled the room with silence as the heavy impact settled in.
Gabrielle immediately turned away so he was unable to read the emotions filtering through her expressive eyes. When she turned back, she removed the hot towel from his jaw.
He didn’t know why he’d said such a thing. That wasn’t exactly the truth. He knew. He just didn’t want to admit it to himself or to anyone else.
He was a man who prided himself on relying on no one. He told himself during all these months of solitude that he was fine on his own because he couldn’t trust anyone else in his life. And then Gabrielle burst into his world and little by little she’d chipped away at the crusty shell that he’d armed himself with. And now he was starting to care about her. He didn’t know what to do with these feelings.
But it was getting difficult to ignore his body’s strong reaction to her with her fussing all about him. And when she stood in front of him to shave him, he had to close his eyes to keep from staring at the most tantalizing view of her firm breasts. But it was too late. The image of her curves straining against the thin cotton top when she leaned toward him was permanently tattooed upon his mind.
Think of something else—anything else.
He didn’t want to let Gabrielle know just how much this session of playing barbershop was getting to him. The truth was he was letting himself get too close to Gabrielle. And no matter how he tried to hold her at arm’s length, she ended up getting so much closer. But that would all end as soon as Gabrielle revealed his scars.
He told himself that he was ready for her to be repulsed, but he wasn’t. One look at him and she wouldn’t be able to pack fast enough. The truth was that before Gabrielle, he’d forgotten how to smile—how to laugh. He’d forgotten what it was to sleep at night for more than two hours. She had totally turned his life upside down and made him think of all the things that he could still do.
“Relax.” Gabrielle’s voice drew him back to the present.
“I am relaxed.”
“No, you’re not. Your jaw is rigid and so are the muscles in your neck. If you don’t trust me—”
