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“Ex-wife.” I paused. “I’ve seen her a few times around town. Do y’all get along well? I know that you said your daughter lived with your sister. What happened there?”
He chuckled. “You can’t help it, can you? The psychologist never sleeps?”
I snorted. “I was nosey before I became a psychologist. But since I know that you’ve been spying on me with everyone that you could, I feel like you are one rung up the ladder already while I’m still hanging out on the ground.”
He didn’t answer for a few long seconds before he pulled on my hair and said, “Tilt your head back. Rinse out all this soap.”
I did, and then he was rinsing out the shampoo, using his fingers to make sure every bubble was out before he pulled me and spun me so that I had my head out of the water. “I don’t have any conditioner. You’re just gonna have to deal with shampoo only.”
I looked at his hair.
There wasn’t a lot of it. But there was enough that he needed conditioner.
“Did you just run out?” I asked curiously.
“I don’t use any,” he admitted. “Seems like a waste of money.”
I blinked at him. “Word is around town you’re a millionaire.”
As in, there’s no reason you can’t buy conditioner.
I knew he was rich and all, but you wouldn’t think he was based on how he acted, dressed, and portrayed himself.
He must’ve heard my silent comment because he said, “Millionaires don’t become millionaires by spending money, darlin’.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for the soap.
“You need conditioner, Wake,” I said. “You have a lot of hair for a guy. It’ll feel way better if you have it.”
Then I watched as he washed his own hair with quick, efficient movements.
Soon, he was reaching for the soap that I was finished with, and I got out of the shower after rinsing off and looked around for a towel.
“Umm,” I said. “Where are the towels?”
“That cabinet right there.” He gestured toward a cabinet.
That wasn’t actually a cabinet. It was a warming drawer for the towels.
I groaned as I wrapped one huge, fluffy towel around myself.
“Oh, god,” I said as I snuggled in deep. “This is the best thing ever.”
He grinned at me as he finished up, turned off the shower, and headed toward me.
After grabbing his own warmed towel, he said, “There are a few things in life that I splurge on, and my comfort is definitely one of them.”
I rolled my eyes as I dried off, then went for my discarded clothes.
After dressing—and realizing that I wished I had something more suitable for meeting the daughter of the man I’d just had sex with—I stripped his sheets.
There was no way in hell he was going to sleep in these today.
They needed washing.
“Can you run a load with the sheets?” he asked as he slipped into a pair of shorts that were much shorter than the ones I usually saw him in. “The washer and dryer are through that door.”
I looked where he was pointing. “The washer and dryer are in your room?”
He shrugged. “It’s actually a door that leads you to them, but you can access it through the kitchen as well.”
With that, I started his load of laundry, then went back to see him pulling on a T-shirt that had seen better days.
“That shirt has a hole in it,” I said as I walked up to him and pressed my finger into the hole at his back.
“I know,” he said. “But I’m in desperate need of washing a load of clothes, and this is one of the last ones that I have right now.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well that explains the baby shorts.”
He snorted out a laugh as he gestured to the bed. “Sit down and turn around. Let me have your hair.”
I raised a brow at him but ultimately did as he asked.
It took him five minutes to braid one side of my hair.
And it actually looked really good.
“Wow,” I said as I looked in the mirror. “I never expected you to be able to braid so well with those big fingers of yours.”
“This is all I can do when it comes to girls’ hair,” he said. “So don’t get too excited.”
“It’s more than my own dad could do.” I shrugged. “It was sweet that you learned for her.”
When I looked at him just as I said that, I could read the emotion in his eyes that practically screamed intense love. “I’d do anything for my daughter. Even learn how to braid with my fat fingers.”
“Well, it’s awesome that you did.” I could feel how tight it was, meaning he’d done a really great job at it. Who would’ve known? “What’s your daughter like?”
I was ashamed to say that I’d started following her on social media.
She was a happy, beautiful, little Wake.
