Page 11 of Eye Candy

I added a big bottle of shampoo to my order, along with giving her a big tip. Hey, if my dad was mayor, I might as well spread the love around. She thanked me, and as she handed me the receipt and the bag with the shampoo, she said, “Be sure to thank your boyfriend for being so patient.” With that, she gave me a sly look, and then she wandered off, leaving me to deal with the consequences of her calling Kieran my boyfriend.

Kieran stood, his hands shoved in his pockets. He appraised me once before saying, “Your boyfriend? Is there something you’ve been meaning to ask me?”

I gave him a look and walked around him, pushing out of the salon and heading to his car, which was parked thirty feet down the sidewalk. “As if I’d want you as a boyfriend. You’re old.”

And he was. Nine years older than me, give or take. That’s old.

“Okay, ouch. No need to go for the jugular.” Kieran pouted, giving me a look as he hurried around me to open the back door for me.

I was about to duck inside, but I stopped short, spinning to face him. “Do you hate my hair?” Even though I’d just insulted him by calling him old—which he wasn’t, not really—I found myself wanting his approval.

The smile that grew on Kieran’s face after that wasn’t teasing or joking. No, it was an oddly serious smile, and it made me blush a bit. “I think it’s very pretty. It’s very you, Laina. You father’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you stroll into the house looking like that, but I love it.” He reached out to touch my hair, running a piece of it through his fingers, much like he had done earlier.

It was a gentle, serious moment, so very unlike him. And it was unlike me to not want to pull away. I’d always found him so overbearing and, frankly, irritating, but maybe things had changed while I was kidnapped. Maybe he’d become less so, or maybe the change was all on me.

He really was cute…

Kieran’s phone rang, and he let out a groan as he pulled away from me and got it out of his pocket to check it. His black gaze shifted to me. “It’s your father.”

Well, that moment was over. I ducked to get into the car, and Kieran closed the door as he answered the phone. I watched him freeze about halfway around the car, the expression on his face one of confusion, then anger. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I was pretty sure I heard a loud, “What?”

Either way, he didn’t appear too happy when he got in the car, after ending the call, so I asked, “What is it?” The way he reacted, it couldn’t just be my dad asking where we were. No, there had to be more to it.

“Sylvester Luciano is having a meeting with your father,” Kieran rattled off, pulling us out onto the road with a jerk of his arms.

“Sylvester Luciano?” I repeated. That name sounded vaguely familiar.

“He’s Richie’s son. After he left, Sylvester took charge. He’s been backing your father since day one.”

Ah, that’s right. The Lucianos were one of the big crime families in this city. The day my dad had secured his support, he’d come home so happy. Overjoyed, really, as if Sylvester Luciano’s support was all he’d need to win the mayor’s race.

No, all he’d needed was to have his daughter kidnapped.

Kieran got quiet after that, and I sensed he didn’t want to talk about whatever it was, so I let it go as he drove us home. Whatever it was, I’d probably find out when we got there. I had no clue what could’ve made him so upset, no clue at all.

When we got there, most of the reporters had left, which allowed us to pull into the driveway without any issues. Soon enough I’d be old news. Something was always going on in this city. Something was always happening. People went missing. People ended up dead. Blackmail, attempted murder, all that fun stuff; it really happened every day here, to the point where you became desensitized to it. Just a part of your everyday life.

Kieran got out of the car first, and as he hurried around to my side—I didn’t wait for him to open my door for me; I could do it myself since I wasn’t helpless—he gave me a stern look and said, “Go upstairs to your room.”

“What—”

His hand shot out, gripping my wrist firmly. “I mean it, Laina. Go to your room. I’ll handle this.” He held onto me so hard his grip passed the definition of firm and ventured into uncomfortable territory.

“Okay,” I whispered, rubbing my wrist once he let me go. He let me go inside the house first, and as I walked in, I immediately heard people talking. I slowed, wanting to hear what was being said, but Kieran was right behind me, and he set a hand on my back, forcing me to keep going.

Seeing as how he wouldn’t let it go, I walked down the hall, passing the archway that led to the sitting room, where my dad liked to keep unexpected guests. It had a big liquor cabinet with all the strong stuff you could possibly want, along with various couches and chairs.

As I walked past it, I saw my father standing near the fireplace, holding onto a short glass of liquor. Two other men were in the room, both unfamiliar. One wore a suit.

Hmm. That wasn’t the same guy that was with Lola when she’d visited me in the hospital, was it? I wanted to go back and check, but with one glimpse over my shoulder, I found Kieran was watching me, waiting to see me walk up the grand staircase before joining my dad and his guests.

How annoying.

So I walked up the steps, slumping my shoulders and pretending to pout. I made it halfway up the steps when I noticed Kieran had abandoned lookout duty and joined my dad and the two other men for whatever conversation they were having.

My feet stopped, and I set the bag down on the stairs before turning and slipping back down. I crept along the wall, inching toward the archway, getting close enough to hear what was being said.

“This is ridiculous,” Kieran’s voice was loud and irritated. “We don’t need anything from you—” My dad coughed at that, and I wondered if that was his way of wordlessly trying to soothe whatever had aggravated him.

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