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I rotate the chair around so that I'm facing her. She needs toseeme. I plant my feet firmly on the floor and reach out and pullher closer, my hand to her hip. I'm operating on pure instinct. The need to feel her is almost overwhelming.

“Please, darlin’. I’m sorry, so fucking sorry.”

I hold her stare—I want to be sure sheseesmy apology in addition to hearing it. “And know this, Myla Rose. If you ever give me the privilege of taking you out again, I won’t mess it up. Not even a little.”

With my last words, I give her hip a light squeeze, just for emphasis. Startled, she tips toward me. Her hands fly to my shoulders to brace herself. For a few seconds, we stay just like that, and all feels right in the world.

CHAPTER 27

MYLA ROSE

His eyes have me rooted.I don't think I could move even if the building were on fire. His mouth's moving, but his words are silent—I can't hear them over the ringing in my ears.

The very second his fingers wrapped around my hip, I'm pretty sure the earth stopped spinning.

I know we've been standing like this for longer than we should. I'm all but on top of him. But from this position, I can see his truth swirling about in his thunderstorm eyes. I can see that he didn't mean to hurt me and that he wasn't just trying to sleep with me. I can see it all, laid bare.

But I can't seem to speak.

"Myla Rose, you okay?"

"Yeah. Yup. Sure am." I push myself into an upright position, using his broad shoulders for leverage. The feel of him under my hands is almost too much. My brain is screaming for me to move away, but the rest of me is begging to move closer.

"You sure, darlin’?"

"Absolutely. Let's finish up this haircut, 'kay?" He gives a gruff nod and unplants his feet, allowing me to position the chair how I want it.

Which would be facing away from the mirror. I'm trying with all my might to pretend he doesn't melt me, and seeing his face every time I check his reflection won't do a damn thing to help.

"All done. We gonna wash it?"

"Not today." He shakes his hair out and finger combs it out of his face. "I'm thinking of taking the boys to the beach."

"It's a gorgeous day for sure. Perfect beach weather." I twirl the ends of my hair around my fingers, hating this awkward small talk were making.

"You like the beach, Princess Myla?" Preston asks.

"I sure do, P. I haven't been in forever, though."

"You can come with us. Uncle Cash won't mind."

I'm racking my brain, trying to come up with a way to let Preston down easy when Azalea and Lucas walk over to where we’re all gathered.

"Go where with whom?" Azalea asks.

"To the beach. With us. She saids she loves the beach."

I can see it all over her face—how badly she wants to laugh at my predicament. Instead of coming to my rescue, she decides to play Devil's advocate.

"Oh, yes. Ms. Mylalooovesthe beach! And she's all finished at work for the day!"

"YES!" the twins shout together with a high five.

"Darlin', you don't have to go . . ." Cash offers, though his tone betrays his words. He wants me there just as much as they do.

"No, Cash, it's fine. I'll meet y'all down at The Pass in about an hour—sound good?"

"Fucking amazing," he whispers, loud enough for only me to hear.