Lauren Dane

Whiskey Sharp: Unraveled


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not her type. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. Enough that it had driven her to run away at sixteen.

      But when it came from Alexsei, it flipped her switch. Perhaps it was because he was dominant but not heavy-handed. Or maybe it was the accent. Whatever it was. It worked.

      She had to clear her throat and focus on her hands again or she would actually screw up and he’d never let her hear the end of it. “I was concentrating. You’ve got a very low opinion of haircuts that aren’t absolutely perfect.”

      “What sort of person has a high opinion of bad haircuts?” He made a little growly sound of disapproval that raised the temperature a few degrees. In her pants.

      “You get mad at the weirdest stuff, man.” Vic just shook his head.

      “They call it having standards. You should try it.” Alexsei sniffed but never moved. He had a lot of discipline that way.

      Maybe brushed the back of his neck to get rid of stray hairs before circling to get a look at his face. “Why don’t you schedule shaves for first thing in the day?”

      “I have to pick someone up from the airport later.”

      “Your mom?” Maybe indicated he lean his head back. What she knew about Alexsei’s mother had mainly come from Irena. Alexsei’s aunt loved her little sister, but it was pretty clear she disapproved of the way Alexsei and his siblings had been parented before the boys showed up on her doorstep.

      Then again, Irena disapproved of a lot of things. Most things. It just made Maybe and Rachel feel special that, for whatever reason, their neighbors had adopted them into their little circle.

      It would suck large if Irena didn’t like you.

      He grunted his assent to her question. “Her plane arrives in a few hours. No sandalwood while she’s here. She doesn’t like it.”

      He’d never told her not to use a certain product before to save the preferences of anyone else. On one hand, she liked it that he cared about what his mother thought. And it wasn’t applied to a date, also good. But she heard the vulnerability there under the domineering tone. Which meant he could get hurt and she disliked that.

      He was very crunchy on the outside, but he had a soft center. It was a poorly kept secret that pleased her to no end.

      She hoped very much that his mother understood how blessed she was to have sons like hers as well as a sister who’d raised them when she decided to send them halfway across the world in their teens while she stayed back in Russia.

      Maybe held up a deep blue jar. “Smells like the ocean. Many of my clients like it. Want to try?”

      His frown made her snicker.

      “I have unscented product too. Let’s use that.” She liked to use her fingertips to massage in the pre-shave oil. It enabled her to be more precise. And she liked to touch Alexsei when he was relaxed and at her mercy. He was always on. Always ready to spring to protect, handle or direct someone.

      But in her chair, she got to pamper him a little.

      Once she’d gotten the hot towel on, she left him for a moment as she sucked down some coffee.

      “I’ll stick around until close tonight. That way you can get your mom settled in and not worry,” she told him.

      “Too long for you to be here. I’ll come back just before ten. She’ll most likely be sleeping anyway,” he said once she’d taken the towel away. It wasn’t as if he was at Whiskey Sharp every moment of every business day anyway, but she knew he liked to know what was happening and if he was out with his mother, he’d be thinking about it.

      But he had other employees, including their shop manager, who handled both the barbershop and the bar when it came to opening and closing and that sort of stuff.

      And really, it wasn’t as if anyone could make the man do something he already had his mind set against.

      “If you’re sure. Otherwise, call me and I’ll handle it. I’m having dinner down here anyway.”

      He was tense under her hands once she’d gotten him lathered up.

      “Hot date?” Vic asked.

      She shrugged. “I hope so. It’s the third date. That’s a big one.”

      Vic laughed.

      “Why are you laughing? What is a big one?” Alexsei demanded.

      “Dude, stop moving. Relax for heaven’s sake.” She held the razor’s edge away from his skin until he settled again.

      “It’s a sex thing,” Vic told him.

      “Not really.” She sniffed. Annoyed, though she knew he hadn’t meant it to be offensive. She hated the idea that women held on to their pink parts to get something from men. Like she needed to wait until three dates? If she wanted to fuck, she’d fuck. And it didn’t matter if it was the first date or the fifteenth. It was about her connection and trust level with that other person.

      She went on, “To be more specific, it’s a schedule of consideration. By the third date I’m thinking about whether a guy is double-digit date material.”

      Though he held very still as she worked on his throat, he still growled. “And if he is? What then?”

      “That’s just another level of commitment. Like is he a dude I date while dating other people too? Is he a long-term guy I date and have sex with but I can’t really see myself married or serious? Or, will he be that person I finally see forever with?”

      “Women have a very serious checklist,” Vic said.

      “I’m old enough to know what I want and not be ashamed of it,” she said. “But relationships only work if both parties are on the same page after a certain point.”

      * * *

      ALEXSEI HOPED SHE wasn’t done yet because there’s no way he could have stood without the entire shop knowing she turned him on.

      Her fingers massaging oil and then shaving cream into his skin, the way she bent close as she scraped the straight razor over his beard. He could smell her skin. And her hair. Currently fire-engine red, it also smelled like apples.

      He’d been staring at her pulse point just below her ear. Her heart beat so fast he could see her skin jump. And that’s when it hit him that it was time to stop messing around and ask her out.

      More accurately, he’d been craving her more and more each day until the point where it was impossible for him to ignore. He’d woken up that morning in a bed in a house that didn’t belong to him. House-sitting had kept a roof over his head since he’d moved out of the place he and Rada had shared. And he’d been able to save up a decent amount for a down payment on a place of his own. Once he decided to look, at any rate.

      But he’d woken up thinking of her. After he’d gone to bed thinking of her, wondering where she’d been and what she’d been up to. He’d lain there, sleep slowly leaving him, but the sense of needing her hadn’t.

      Plain and simple, he’d come to a place where if he didn’t pursue her, he’d be lying to them both.

      Then she’d brought up that date she had later. A year ago he’d have had a pang of jealousy. Wondering what if he’d ever given in to his attraction to the strange woman who worked in his shop.

      A year ago he’d still been trying to make his relationship with Rada work though they’d both given up by that point and were just going through the motions.

      Now that he’d settled in to life after that engagement had finally been broken in public—they’d broken up privately three months before that—there was a lot more than a pang.

      He hated the idea of Maybe being with anyone else. Hated the thought of this date she was going to being the one she decided to give this other man a chance to be with her.

      Hated,