Page 74 of Love Without Control

“Will you let me fix it?”

Fuck yes.

“You’re not going to put one of those glittery things in it, are you?” I asked, indicating the red-and-silver rhinestone clip that was holding her hair away from her perfect face on one side.

“Of course not,” she scoffed, taking my hand and leading me to our bathroom. “I have a perfectly respectable velvet bow. Or maybe I’ll do space buns. That would be cute.”

“Space what?” I almost shrieked, a moment of panic coursing through my chest. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Unless… “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

Eden pulled the chair from beneath the knee space and pushed me down onto it. She was slightly taller than me when I was seated, and she blinked guileless brown eyes down at me.

“Would I do that?” Her voice was a teasing coo, and I didn’t bother answering becauseof course she would.

Motherfucking hell, I wanted to kiss that smug smile off her pretty little mouth. Smear that dark lipstick all over my own lips and then leave a trail of it down her body as I went on a treasure hunt for the promised land.

And now I’ve got a boner situation. Great.

Shifting slightly to accommodate my growing length, I watched as Eden rummaged through the top drawer and pulled out a pink hairbrush. Her hairbrush. There was something so intimate about her using her own brush on my hair, and I closed my eyes and relaxed into the moment, letting her do whatever the hell she wanted to me.

After draping a towel around my shoulders, she worked some kind of product through my hair with nimble fingers. It smelled fresh and cool, citrus and maybe mint? Eden hummed a Christmas tune while she smoothed and brushed, and my neck was pliant, allowing her to turn my head as she wished.

Peeking one eye open, I watched her as she worked, her tongue working back and forth over the small scar that bisected her bottom lip. Finally, she stepped back, tilting her head from one side to the other while she assessed her handiwork.

“Yeah,” she said to herself with a pleased smile, backing away and doing a little hand flourish. “What do you think?”

I looked at myself in the mirror and remembered my sister telling me this style was calledhalf up-half down. The top was pulled back and fashioned into a ponytail at the back of my head, looking more tousled than slick. The bottom half of my dark hair was left loose, and whatever product she’d added brought out the latent curls, which hung almost to my shoulders. The look was a little wild and a lot stylish, like something a long-haired celebrity might wear with his tuxedo on the red carpet.

And then I noticed something else. “Is that… a braid?” I asked with trepidation, turning my head slightly to see the tiny plait on one side. It started over my right ear and was pulled back and fastened into the black rubber band that held my ponytail.

I brought my eyes slowly to Eden’s, wondering if she was messing with me, but her heated gaze told me she wasn’t. With her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, she nodded.

“I think it looks hot,” she breathed, and any doubts I had about wearing a freaking braid vanished in a puff of desire.

“Then I love it,” I said, standing and dropping a kiss on her nose. “You’ve elevated me from about a three to at least a solid five, so thank you for that.”

Eden snorted out a laugh. “You’re way more than a five, Dane.”

Would it be douchey to ask for an actual rating from her? Yeah, definitely a douchebag move.

She pulled the towel from my shoulders, and her gaze snagged on my suit. Trailing her fingers down to the signature buttons on my black jacket, she rubbed a circle on one with her thumb.

“You’re wearing aBouviersuit,” she murmured.

“You know, just supporting your family’s business,” I replied, and when Eden lifted her face, her eyes were soft and suspiciously damp.

“That just shot you to a big, fat nine, buddy.” Then she looked up at my hair again, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “But the braid makes you a ten.”

Note to self: find a YouTube tutorial on how to braid hair.

I’ve never particularly enjoyed holiday parties, but the one at Charles and Mimsy’s house on Christmas Eve was actually fun. The food was stellar, the drinks were flowing, and the company was nice. Well, except forChad.

I tried not to glare at Mrs. Walker from down the street simply because she’d invited her fucking great-nephew,Chad, to come along to the soirée. He was in town, ostensibly to visit with his widowed aunt, but I knew his real game. The asshole was in town to prey on the unsuspecting women of Marathon, namely, my wife.Mine.

The problem was that he reminded me of… me. Well, the me of a year ago. Fake smile. Wearing a suit that was a little too slick. Flirty touches. I sighed internally when I found the tall blond in the small crowd.Like he’s doing right now.

Strolling over to one of the food tables, I stepped in between Eden andChad, slipping my arm around my wife. “Hi, baby,” I said, turning my back on the sleezeball and kissing Eden softly on the lips. Not on the nose this time because I was staking a claim here. That required me to level up.

She looked startled for a moment, and then a knowing smirk curled the corners of her mouth. “Hi. What’s up?” But she knew what was up.

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