Kaleidoscope (Colorado Mountain #6)(54)

“By good things do you mean am I seeing your daughter?” Deck got to the point.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Barry answered.

It wasn’t strange but it was nosy.

He shouldn’t answer, but a man whose daughter was kidnapped when she was a child and now what was swirling around her, he felt should have his mind put at ease.

“I don’t find that strange and in normal circumstances that should come from Emme. Since you asked and with what’s goin’ on, you should know she’s covered, as in safe, as in I intend to keep her that way. And I intend to do that ’cause she’s Emme and I’ve always had a soft spot for her but also because I’m seein’ your daughter.”

“Hallelujah,” he breathed.

At least he had Barry Holmes’s approval.

He still had a pissed Emme on his hands.

“Means a lot, Barry, that’s your response. No joke,” Deck told him. “But I really gotta go.”

“Right. Right. See you in a bit.”

“You will. Later, Barry.”

“Later, Jacob.”

He disconnected and put Emme’s phone by her purse. In an effort to give her time to burn at least a little of it out, he picked up his oatmeal but his eyes went to his dog who was sitting on his ass, having wolfed down his food, and he was staring up at Deck.

“Go in and butter her up for me, will you, pal?” he asked between bites of oatmeal.

His dog ambled out, headed in the direction of the master. Deck wanted to believe his hound was smart enough to understand him, but it was more likely he was on the trail of strawberries.

Deck finished his breakfast, ran water in the bowl but left it in the sink, got a cup of coffee and belatedly followed Buford.

He heard a hair dryer, saw his dog on the bed, eyes aimed to the door of the bathroom and he found his girl in the bathroom wearing nothing but jeans and bra, torso bent over, ass his way, drying the back of her hair.

Deck settled in with a shoulder to the jamb of the door, sipped his coffee and enjoyed the view.

The view turned more spectacular when she flipped her hair back. It got even better when he saw the sexy, lacy white bra she was wearing.

Her eyes caught his in the mirror and flashed.

He pressed his lips together.

She aimed her angry eyes at herself in the mirror and kept drying her hair.

Deck didn’t move.

He’d discovered, you pay attention and a goodly amount of it, every day you could learn something. You watched how birds flew, expressions on faces, traffic flow.

And how women got ready and went out to face the day.

Emme now had on full makeup and it looked good on her. Fucking good.

It wasn’t like back when he knew her before that she didn’t wear it. She just wore enough she had a mask on to go out. Emme was all about the mask, and makeup was just part of it. But it was clearly something she did as habit. Not something she enjoyed.

As with a lot of things about her, that changed. Her makeup wasn’t heavier, as such, though there was more of it. But it was far more expertly applied, like she gave shit, not like she had to do it and get it done with.

Same with her hair, which was not only a f**k of a lot longer and had highlights, but had a healthy sheen it didn’t have before.

She also now didn’t wear a perfume that was a floral scent that was nice enough, though a little overwhelming, like she used to wear. Her old perfume was a perfume for women to like. Not one that would lure a man. The smell and the amount she used was likely another unconscious indication she wanted people to stay back.

Now her perfume was far more understated. You had to get close to smell it. It was still floral but more mellow and musky.

It was a perfume a woman might like but a man definitely would.

Until he saw her on the street just days ago, he didn’t give one f**k what it said about him that he liked his women to take care of themselves. Unshaved legs, visible roots, unkempt eyebrows and a thrown-together outfit was a massive turnoff.

The truth of the matter was, the more high maintenance, the better.

It wasn’t about perfectly toned bodies. It was a demonstration they gave a shit, not just for him, for them. They had the confidence and energy to trick themselves out and make an impression, even if it only made them feel good. No, especially if it seemed they did it for themselves, because they liked it, because they got off on it, and it wasn’t about attracting a man.

He thought that was sexy as hell.

The last few days, he’d struggled with the fact that it was not lost on him that Emme not doing this years ago meant he didn’t see deeper what she had to offer nor did he feel how they’d connected. He’d lost time, they both had, because he was young and shallow, blinded by Elsbeth having that without having what was more important.

That said, he sure as f**k wasn’t complaining that Emme now had it all.

The dryer went off and she immediately yanked out the plug, turned and dumped it into her overnight bag that was sitting on the floor behind her.

“Babe—” he started, and she whipped around, her hair flying with her and again it was a spectacular show.

“You know, I’ve had two guys before you. Just two,” she announced.

Her eyes on him were flashing fire. Her words making him war between elation that that number was so low and meant even at their ages he had a shot at giving her a lot of good shit she’d not yet had, and distress that all that was Emme was wasted so long and his girl had spent so much time alone.