Handle With Care (Shacking Up 5)

“Where do you want me?” Lincoln asks once everyone is congregated in his bedroom.

Unsure if he means for it to sound suggestive or not, I give him a dismissive wave. “Right where you are is fine for now.”

“Ulrich, the master bath is through there, why don’t you set up for the trim? What do you think, tux first, hair second, or the other way around?” I give Lincoln a cursory glance. “Let’s do hair first, then I don’t have to worry about anyone getting trimmer happy.” I also like the idea of him having to hang out in his underwear longer than I’m sure he expected, for my own enjoyment.

Lincoln stands in the middle of the room with his arms crossed while I help Ulrich set up his traveling barbershop. Ulrich obstructs my view of Lincoln’s chest when he covers him with the cape, but there’s still satisfaction in him wearing only a pair of briefs while he has his hair trimmed.

As frustrated as I am with Lincoln, I can’t seem to resist the opportunity to get my hands on him. And not just to throttle him. I stand behind him and run my fingernail along the hairline at his neck and follow it to where it curves around the back of his ear.

He sucks in a breath, and I bite back a smile as goose bumps rise along his skin. “Let’s clean all this up.” I move around to stand in front of Lincoln and tap my lip with my finger. “What do you think about a fade, Ulrich?” I bend at the waist, aware I’m giving Lincoln a peek down the front of my blouse. He can’t see much, a hint of cleavage, maybe a glimpse of the lace edge of my cami.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Maybe it’s the way Lincoln reacted to the plus-one conversation and his double standard over me having a potential date. Or maybe I’m just tired of fighting my attraction to him. Not to mention his blatant disregard for the value of my personal time.

Ulrich’s face lights up. “Oh! A fade would be fabulous. If anyone can pull that off, it’s Lincoln.”

I run my hand through his hair at the crown; it’s thick and dark, the strands silky between my fingers. “What do you think, Lincoln?”

He has to drag his eyes away from my chest. “What?”

“How do you feel?” I run my fingers through his hair again. “About the fade?”

He clears his throat. “Uh, I don’t even know what that is, so whatever you want is fine, I guess.”

“Great. A fade it is.” I tug the hair at his crown. “But let’s keep the length on top.”

I step back and clap my hands as if this excites me, which it definitely does, and take a seat on the vanity while Ulrich works his magic. Lincoln’s attention keeps drifting to my legs, and then up to the open buttons on my blouse before he focuses on his reflection in the mirror again, his brow furrowed in what I can only assume is aggravation.

The haircut doesn’t take long. I snap a couple of pictures for his social media, appreciating the artistry of the style before I post them. Lincoln with a fade is damn well glorious. He asks for a minute before we move onto the tux fitting and ushers us out of the bathroom.

Before I slip out the door, he grabs my elbow and bends until his lips brush my ear. “Stop taunting me or it’s going to get embarrassing.”

I meet his hot gaze. “Taunting you? I’m not the one always parading around in my underwear. Don’t be long. Everyone would like at least part of their evening to revolve around something other than you.” I pull the door closed behind me.

A minute later, he exits the bathroom still looking tense. I don’t know what happened this afternoon, but I plan to get some kind of explanation once everyone else leaves.

Bradley helps Lincoln into his tux and begins making adjustments. I take a seat on the edge of Lincoln’s huge bed, the one he sleeps in naked.

“Why don’t we go over your speech while you’re being fitted? I sent it to your email yesterday, so you could make any edits you saw fit. Did you have a chance to look at it?” I’m sure the answer to that is no, otherwise I would have received a response to that email. It’s already eight o’clock, but if we can finish up here in the next half hour or so, I might still be able to stop by Dani’s on the way home for a drink or something. Lord knows I deserve one.

Lincoln eyes me through the reflection in the mirror. This vantage point is ideal since I get to see both the front and the back view. “We can do that after I’m done being prodded. No offense, Bradley.”