Page 69 of More Than a Good Friend

Oh no.

He taps my leg, and I just stare. What about the women working here? Are they all busy?

Goldie nudges me. “He wants you to pull your foot out of the water.”

“Okay.” I lift my right foot out of the water and close my eyes. Maybe if I don’t watch the man touch my feet, it won’t be so weird.

He begins rubbing some gritty stuff on my feet, and I clench my jaw. Nope. It’s weird.

I could jump up and slosh out of here, carrying my boots, but that would embarrass Goldie. And my goal is to spend time with her.

I thought the foot massage was bad, but then he starts messing with my toenails. When I open my eyes, he shoots me a look, and I bite my tongue. Maybe I haven’t trimmed my toenails in way too long, but in my defense, I had no idea anyone would be seeing, let alone touching my feet.

The beautiful woman next to me is the only reason I haven’t left puddles on the floor as I run out.

Goldie pries my fingers off the arm of the chair, then slips her small hand into mine. “You okay?”

I nod. Lying with words isn’t possible right now.

“Ticklish?”

“Nope.” I close my fingers around her hand.

I’d do almost anything to be with Goldie, and if this doesn’t prove it, I don’t know what will. It hasn’t been that long since she turned me down, and I don’t want it to come off like I’m pressuring her to go out with me. So I’m trying to show her that she’s important to me.

Slow and steady is hopefully the way to go. But a little handholding along the way is nice.

My gaze is fixated on the dude as he works a stick under my toenails, and I feel a little bad. My feet are pretty gross. But they’re almost always in boots, so who cares?

I do now.

Her breath tickles my ear. “I won’t tell anyone about this. Not even Tandy.”

Giving her hand a squeeze, I smile. “That’s why I like you so much.”

This isn’t the worst way to spend a day.

But it’s close.

When the guy is done making my toenails look presentable, he looks at me and points at Goldie. “Same color?”

Is he serious?

I wag my head back and forth. “No polish.”

And I must sound ridiculous because Goldie snickers.

He gives a smirk, and I realize he’s teasing.

“Well played. I’m only here because she is.” I tip my head toward Goldie.

The man smiles. “Have a nice day.”

Goldie is right about how the feet feel after. My feet look and feel amazing. It’s kind of a shame I have to hide them inside my boots.

We walk to the counter, and the woman—who was not at all busy and could have done my pedicure—gives us the total.

I whip out my card. “I got it.”

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