Page 21 of Seaside Cowboy's Marriage of Convenience

“Orchids are. I like hibiscuses, but from very, very far away.”

When he rinsed her hair, she regretted it was over already. He towel dried her hair, his massaging fingers gentle in their rubbing, and then, a bit shaky, she picked up a hair dryer.

Minutes later, she stared at herself in the mirror, doing her best to squelch her disappointment. “I believe they make extremely efficient paint these days. Well, most of it is off, right?”

“But not all. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. I have a good hairdresser.” Then she remembered. “Oh, my assistant took my car to get its oil changed after dropping me off here. Strange he’s not back yet. There might’ve been some things that needed to get fixed.”

“I’ll give you a lift. I mean, if you’re okay with going in a rusty truck.”

“Why not?” He must think she was high maintenance. Mentioning her assistant hadn’t been smart.

About an hour later, the paint was out of her hair, partly because Kennedy had shoulder-length hair now, a significant chunk of it gone. She breathed in the minty scent of some expensive shampoo and told herself it could’ve been much worse.

She swallowed as she appeared in front of Austin. “What do you think?”

“You look gorgeous. But then, you always do.” He opened the front door for her.

She stepped outside, bracing for heat after the air-conditioned salon. “Yeah right.” She gave an unladylike snort as they walked to his truck. “You must be taking lessons from Kai.”

Kai was a known player in Port Sunshine. Kennedy didn’t think he’d ever settle down, and yet he did.

While Austin drove her to her house, her phone rang. She fished it out, expecting it to be Marina or Skylar calling about her hair resurrection. But her uncle’s name showed on the screen, and her gut twisted. Ever since that physical, she’d expected the other shoe to drop.

“Kennedy, I have bad news.” His grave tone made her heart sink.

“Oh no!” And minutes ago, she’d been worried about her hair. Why couldn’t she getanyair into her lungs? “Are you all right?” she choked out.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Austin look at her with worry. Then he reached for her nearest hand and squeezed her fingers. The gesture felt nice and unusual to her. She’d hired the best people she could find. But right now, the only person who’d always been in her corner was on the other end of the line. Tears burned the backs of her eyes again. She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t!

She’d found him the best doctors and a nutritionist with the highest acclaim, as well as a fitness trainer. But he wasn’t keen to follow advice.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

“Yes, I am.” Her uncle spoke fast as if understanding her need for reassurance, letting her get air into her lungs again. “But your assistant is in the hospital.”

“What?” Something clutched her stomach the same way she was clutching her purse right now. The young man was a picture of perfect health. But one could never know. “What happened? Did Mason have an accident? I’ll pay for all his medical expenses, of course. And I’ll be on the way to the hospital.”

“I’ve already paid and arranged for a private home nurse when he’s discharged. Sent fruits and flowers and notified his family. He has two broken ribs and many bruises, but his doctors hope for a full recovery. They say it’s a miracle, even if he was driving at a low speed when the accident happened.” Her uncle’s words made it easier to breathe. “But here’s where it gets worse for you.”

Cold traveled over her spine, and she leaned forward as if that would get her home sooner. Her fingers tightened over her smooth, buttery-soft purse. “It gets worse—for me?”

What on earth?

“He had an accident because the brakes failed.”

Her eyes widened, and she gasped at the sucker punch that slammed her gut. This washerfault? “I don’t understand. It’s a relatively new car. And I had it checked recently. The brakes were fine.”

There was a pause. “I have people looking into it. But it appears someone messed with your brakes. On purpose.”

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