Page 41 of Bourbon and Secrets

Romey adds, “Your sister doesn’t go anywhere without that damn laptop of hers. And it’s surprising, considering I thought she wanted to be a trainer just like Shelby...”

Maeve mixes up the purple-tinted cream with the painting brush and gets to work as she starts sectioning off my hair. “I don’t think she’s been on a real date in years. Your sister is a beauty, but holy hell, she doesn’t pick any winners. There was one from the rodeo a few years back. I think he did a number on her. I know that Jimmy Duggan has asked her out a few times, but he’s too good for her and what she’s up to. Even though that boy?—”

Romey cuts her sister off, “He’s a man, Maeve. He’s in his twenties now.”

She cocks her hip and gives her sister a glare. “Anyone who isn’t well into their forties, in my opinion, is still a kid.”

Romey grins at me. “Enough about Maggie. I’m more interested in the chatter I’ve been hearing about this burlesque woman. Rosie Gold, is it?”

I smile, not meeting her attention in the mirror.

“Might need to take in a performance at Midnight Proof. See what all the buzz is about,” she says with a teasing tone.

A while later, my hair is refreshed, looking even better than it has in a long time. “Maeve, it looks incredible. Thank you for squeezing me in.”

She sprays an overly excessive amount of hairspray over the top of my head just as an echo of loud barks sound from outside, pulling all our attention.

“Your dog is basking in some lovin’ out there,” Romeo says.

The shop carries on a quiet buzz, the sound of hair dryers and “Jolene”mingled with gossip about the latest plans for next month’s Valentine’s Day celebrations and who had been rumored to be cheating on whom. But the chatter stops abruptly, and my guess is that they’re watching exactly who I am. Through the front main window, Lincoln Foxx, with his dark wool coat and perfect smile, casually stands with his hands slung into his pockets as he watches his girls being licked by a very over-eager puppy.

I have no say in it, but my body remembers everything his fingers are capable of doing as if he’s touching me again. My face and neck feel hot. Taking a breath, I stand from the chair, trying to mentally gather myself.

“I swear that man gets better looking every year,” Romey tuts next to me.

Maeve swats at her hand. “He isn’t even forty yet.” She leans in close to me. “A lot of rumors about that one. And it’s nothing bad, in my opinion. A shame he’s doing life on his own right now.”

I give her a tight-lipped smile.

“He’s single,” Romey says, popping a Modjeska in her mouth. “But he’s not alone. He’s got those sweet girls.”

“Widowed,” Maeve corrects.

Romey looks at her with annoyance, and then to me, “One doesn’t make the other one untrue.” She tilts her head to the side with a shrug.

“I’m not—” Shaking my head, I clear my throat. “That’s not on the agenda.”

“They usually never are, dear,” Romey says.

The funny part is, I want to believe my own words. Since I left Fiasco, each decision I’ve made has had a purpose—a well thought-out plan and path to either complete a job or preserve a sliver of calculated enjoyment in my life. But a handful of days back here and plans suddenly feel incomplete and riddled with detours. One very specific one stands a few feet away, with glasses and a devious smile that makes my insides melt and renders me stereotypically stupid. A quiet, buried part of me kicks alive when I’m around him. And the worst part is, I like that feeling.

Maeve smiles at Lark and Lily as they come into the salon. Lark with her EarPods in, wearing a vintage NSYNC t-shirt, which I’m pretty sure I got at a concert on the original tour. Lily’s behind her with a crossbody bag that reads: Hufflepuff State of Mind. It’s hard not to smile at them.

Maeve says, “Girls, I’m going to have you wait just a few minutes. I have to wrap something up over here, and then we can get those manicures started. Maybe Romey can make you both a little mocktail while you’re waitin’.” She smiles at Lincoln and, holy hell, they’re right. That man can steal the oxygen out of just about any room he wants. He’s not even smiling, and almost every face in this room is grinning in his direction.

Lincoln asks, “Maeve, it might be a painted toes kind of day too. Do you have time for it?”

She taps his arm and says, “For my favorite Foxxes? Absolutely.”

A smile starts to take over his face as Maeve leaves him. He glances at me and that smile gets wider, like he just caught me doing something I’m not supposed to be doing—which, to be clear, I was. I was checking out his ass. My face heats thinking about his confident stride in those damn Wranglers that make him even more delicious, but instead of looking away, I blatantly look down his body and back up again.

“Ohmygosh,” Lily rushes out. “Faye, I love her harness.”

I smile, feeling good about picking one she approves of.

My eyes dart toward Lincoln, who’s watching the exchange.Shit, he’s going to see right through this.

Lark notices and tries to cover it by adding, “Faye asked us what color harness we should—I mean,sheshould...What harness she should get for Kit.”

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