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I breathed through the next seconds, my heart swelling because it was a compliment I hardly ever got. “Thank you.”
“Shampoo girl would work too,” he said, smiling. “Your hands are magic.”
I rinsed his hair, and when I was applying the conditioner, his eyes opened, locking with mine. Our proximity was unnerving, given that I was leaning over him, boobs by his temple, arms over his neck.
He was watching me with this look in his eyes that made my stomach flip and flop, then flip again. I was aware of the uptick in my pulse, the rapid beating in my chest, and the unwanted heat rising to my cheeks. My nipples pebbled, aching and rubbing against my bra, and I wondered if he sensed it because his breathing increased.
I hurried my hands and shut off the sink.
“There. Done,” I said, backing away and towel-drying my hands, avoiding his heated gaze.
When he lifted his head, water dripped down his face and back.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, rushing to dry him up.
He exhaled deeply and pressed his left hand on my arm, stilling me. “I think I’m good.”
“Okay,” I said, blinking down at him.
I noticed the stubble on his chin.
“Do you want me to help you shave? We should do it now, while you’re all wet.”
By the end of four weeks, he would have a full-on beard.
I swallowed and focused my gaze on anything but him—the sink, his electric toothbrush, his collection of cologne. I didn’t think his masculine scent was cologne because he smelled of the shampoo that I had lathered between my hands.
“I’d like that. But you’ll have to be careful. It’s in my contract with Gillette to protect this face.”
He grinned and made a look like he was doing a commercial, and I rolled my eyes.
Of course this man had an endorsement with the largest supplier of razors.
I laughed. “I’ll keep you pretty, I promise.”
After I picked up his shaving cream from the sink counter and placed a generous amount on my fingertips, I stepped into Austin, bent down, and lathered some on his chin. I repeated the process until his chin and cheeks were covered in white foam.
“You remind me of a bare-chested Santa Claus.” I laughed. “Not like I’ve ever seen a bare-chested Santa, but I’m just saying.”
He looked ridiculous, only in a towel, face full of foam. I might have overdone it a little. And I couldn’t stop giggling.
“You should do that more often.”
A little foam fell from his cheek to his shoulder. I had indeed gone overboard with the shaving cream.
“Do what?” I asked, still chuckling. I took my towel and wiped the excess off his cheeks and his shoulder.
“Laugh,” he said. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.”
My smile dimmed as the familiar heat spread throughout my body. “All right, tip your chin back.” I needed this done and over with. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me, but I needed some distance from this man.
He watched me, but for the life of me, I couldn’t look at him. Above him, this close to him, I felt naked, vulnerable. When I was only giving him a simple shave.
“Do you shave every day?” I was starting small talk now. It was either that or die from a heat wave.
I told myself any man this close to me would cause this type of reaction. So, it wasn’t just Austin. It was the fact that I hadn’t been with a man in a long while.
“I usually do,” he said.
