He let out a long sigh. “Her name is Gracie Cartwright, but I called her Grace.” His lips twitched, almost forming a smile.
The way he said my name so reverently made my heart pitter-patter. I had forgotten how much I liked that he called me Grace. It gave me the courage to plunge my hands into his fantastic hair. Holy crow, it was like dying and going to heaven. His hair was thick and soft. His scalp was perfectly smooth. I had to clear my throat before I had a moment. I really needed a boyfriend.
“Why did you call her Grace?” What a ridiculous question to ask a stranger—you know, if he had been one. Yet I had always wondered and never asked him back in high school. Besides, I’d had much odder conversations in this room. Most people don’t want to talk, but with some people it’s all they want to do. I’d found out all sorts of things about my clients. I had one lady confess that she wore cat costumes whenever she was at home and sang “Memory” on repeat.
He closed his eyes as if he reveled in my touch. I even saw goose bumps appear on his shoulders and chest. That filled me with pride, though it was wrong. So very wrong. This was not a place where anyone should be turned on.
“The name just fit her,” he finally responded. That was sweet and gave me some goose bumps.
Just for that, I made sure my fingers worked some magic on his scalp. “You must have been close to her.”
“We were only neighbors.”
What! Only neighbors? This was coming from the boy who had sneaked into my room the night after my mother died and held my hand as we sat on the floor while I sobbed. Not to mention we had kissed once. I had come to him crying our junior year when Danny Kershaw told me I wasn’t a very good kisser. Brooks had offered to give me some pointers. The only feedback I had gotten after our dizzying kiss was that Danny Kershaw had no idea what he was talking about. I’d hoped, after the best kiss I’d ever had, that Brooks would see me differently. That the boy who had whispered my name before tenderly parting my lips and who had taken his time letting his tongue sweep the inside of my mouth would realize we were meant to be together. That had been wishful thinking. He’d acted like it never happened. The memory stung. That was it—he was getting the cleanser I’d had some burning complaints about.
His eyes fluttered open, and he took another good look at me. “Come to think of it, she would be a lot older than you.”
I had to keep from snarling. I was the same age as him, and he had aged well. Did he think I had grown up to be a hag? Joke was on him, though—not only did I have good genes, I was definitely going to torture him a bit. I immediately stopped the goose bump–inducing scalp massage and grabbed a warm towel to wrap around his head. I resisted the urge to smother him with it.
I grabbed the deep cleanser from the counter behind me. Zoe had done a beautiful job of neatly organizing all my supplies. “So, has your girlfriend been here before?” If she had and it was indeed Morgan, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen her. Unlike Brooks, I would recognize my old classmate.
“I don’t think so, but she heard this was the best spa in Fort Worth.”
I had to smile. We had worked hard to earn that reputation. “We’d like to send her a thank-you note for the referral.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. We did like to send people thank-yous, but if it was Morgan, she was getting nothing. “What’s her name?”
“I put her name on all the paperwork you made me fill out. Which is overkill, by the way,” he growled.
I grabbed my chest. He really was seeing Morgan. And he was a jerk. I shouldn’t care about either; except I had thought I would marry the man someday. And apparently some random voice did too. I should probably get that hearing-voices thing checked out. Possibly with a local priest. The voice was obviously evil.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. We’re only trying to be thorough and make sure each client receives the best care,” I replied more snippily than I normally would have.
He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but not a word came out. Fine by me. I was done talking to him. I had to say, though, I was glad he came in here. He’d proven to me that I hadn’t missed out on a thing. In fact, I was lucky he had stood me up. Not only that, I could tell his daddy to quit fretting over his estranged relationship with his son. Okay, so I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t even tell Tom I’d seen Brooks. Poor Tom was still beside himself over what he had done to push Brooks away, though I believed Tom had done his penance. And Brooks’s behavior today only cemented that he was a spoiled brat for not reciprocating Tom’s attempts to mend their relationship.