Page 12 of Dirty Rocker

“I’ll add some brown eyeliner to change their shape,” she said, leaning into me while she worked.

Fuck, her tank top had gaped open, giving me a flash of her luscious tits. I squirmed in my chair…my balls had grown heavy.

She caught me staring and stepped back, her heart-shaped face aflame. “Sorry,” she muttered, adjusting herself.

“I enjoyed the view,” I smirked.

She laughed and swatted me on the arm. “Asshole.”

“Yours truly.” I winked.

She lifted my chin and swirled powder in the hollows of my cheeks. “Look into the mirror, Limey.”

I did as she asked. She’d whited out the ends of my thick dark lashes and had made my almond-shaped eyes rounder with the eyeliner. I normally wore shades when out in public, but I’d need to take them off in the nursing home and if we went into a restaurant. I squinted at my reflection, at the paleness of my cheeks. “You did a great job.” I turned my head from side to side.

“Just need to slick down your hair,” she said. “Sit still.”

I felt myself relax while she ran her fingers over my scalp, taming my wavy mane. She squirted gel into the cup of her hand and applied it before tying my hair back in a pony. “I’ll tuck this under a ball cap.” Her tone was confident. “Then you’re good to go.”

I stood and towered over her. She stared up at me and I resisted the urge to kiss her. I reached for her hand. “Time to head out into the big bad world, Yankee Girl.”Chapter 10PierceRick Wilson spent the entire time we sat with him, on the patio at the nursing home, referring to Hayley as Suzanne, which was her mum’s name. Yankee Girl had warned me beforehand this would happen. The poor bloke had sunk so deep into dementia he had no recollection of her existence, seemingly convinced he was still in his early twenties.

“Why am I here with all these old people?” he kept asking, before shooting me a confused look. “Who’s this dude?” He grimaced. “I don’t like his ugly mug.”

Hayley and I had agreed I’d introduce myself as Pete, Martha’s latest beau. She’d been Suzanne’s bestie and Rick had appeared satisfied with Hayley’s answer, only to forget it and repeat the question again and again.

Thank God, eventually he fell asleep in his wheelchair, and a nurse arrived to take him back to his room.

Hayley gave her dad a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a couple days,” she murmured.

I caught the sadness in her eyes. Visibly, she loved her dad a lot…an emotion I’d never felt toward my own sorry excuse for a father. I gritted my teeth. He’d never acted much like a parent toward me, whereas, given Yankee Girl’s obvious feelings for Rick, it had almost certainly been the opposite in her case.

The nursing home was in the heart of Santa Monica, not far from the iconic pier. We’d decided that’s where we’d go once this visit was over. I grabbed Yankee Girl’s hand as we exited the low-slung building “No one’s recognized me here. Let’s go have some fun. It’ll take your mind off things.”

Her fingers trembled and her amber colored eyes welled up. “Dad gets worse every time I see him.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Taking my mind off things sounds like a good plan…”

Joe was waiting for us outside in my Audi SUV and drove the short distance to the beach. He rolled to a stop in the parking lot and jumped out to do a risk assessment. “Do you want me to come with ya, boss?” he asked.

I vogued what Rick had referred to as my ugly mug and laughed. “Think I’ll be fine.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’ll call if we need you.”

“Would you believe it’s my first time here?” I said to Hayley as we made our way past the carousel toward the amusement park. “How about we go on a ride?”

She flicked her long cinnamon red braid over her shoulder and lengthened her stride to keep up with me. “Cool. I’d like that.”

I was in my late twenties and behaving like a teen, but I gave zero fucks. I’d been working like a slave since I was twenty-two, partying like the rock star I was. This was good, clean fun. It felt different and kind of nice.

After I’d bought our entrance tickets, we headed for the roller coaster and soon we were careering at dizzying heights above the Pacific Ocean.

Nothing like beginning on a high note.

Not the scariest I’d been on—I’d ridden the Stealth at Thorpe Park in the UK—but it gave me a buzz that the smile had returned to Yankee Girl’s face.

At the end of the ride, I suggested to her we go on the Ferris wheel. She said she loved Ferris wheels, and we joined the short line at the entrance. Within minutes, it was our turn to hop on. I breathed in the scent of the sea as I sat next to her in the gondola. She’d shunted her lithe body over to the edge of the car, leaving a space between us I’d love to fill.

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