Steam (Homecoming Hearts #4)(14)

6





Ashby





Ashby had so dearly wanted to ask Kadie about the grumpy guy with the puppy. She clearly knew him from the way she smiled at him, although Ashby stayed back far enough that he couldn’t hear what they were saying.

He had reminded himself sternly that this was to be a man-free holiday. Maeve had promised him there would be no hunks around to tempt him. So whoever he was, Mr. Tall, Dark and Rude probably wasn’t sticking around for long, despite getting a key for a room.

Ashby resolutely put him from his mind as he finished chatting to Kadie about the spa treatments available, then went back to his room to change. After a couple of days, he was getting the hang of his jetlag, so he’d gotten lunch from the resort’s restaurant at a reasonable time, then felt like a bit of pampering was long overdue.

Still, it might have been nice if the gorgeous guy hadn’t been in such a hurry to get away from Ashby. He was obviously straight, so Ashby had no doubt scared him off with his unapologetic fem-ness. Well, screw him. Ashby didn’t want to have anything to do with someone if they didn’t like him for who he was. Not again.

He couldn’t help but dwell on the mysterious stranger, though, as he pottered from his room to the spa facilities in his robe and flip-flops. Those muscles. Those dark eyes, like deep pools. The shoulder-length hair that was so thick and glossy, it was positively begging to be grabbed during a really good f-

“And this is you shutting down that thought and forgetting all about him,” said Ashby firmly and out loud. The couple approaching him along the corridor raised their eyebrows at him. He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon,” he said. They walked past warily and Ashby sighed. “No need to scare the locals,” he muttered quietly to himself.

The spa was in the same state as the rest of the resort. It had probably been bang on trend twenty years ago, but now just looked a bit sorry for itself. The paint wasn’t peeling, but the color had faded somewhat from the walls and the familiar beiges and creams looked tired. But there were actual live plants in pots injecting a much-needed shot of color to the reception area and the scent of lavender greeted Ashby as he walked through the doors. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the sound of soft panpipes that drifted through the air from a CD player in the corner.

A woman in her early-forties came out from behind the desk. Styled chestnut curls tumbled to her shoulders and her shiny lips were painted red. The technician’s blouse she wore was an immaculate white and unbuttoned just enough to show off her perky breasts. Her gaze raked over Ashby as she clasped her hands in front of them. At least her perfect French manicure gave Ashby some hope that this wouldn’t be a wasted visit.

“Well, hello,” she said, her voice husky.

“Hello,” Ashby said cheerfully. “I was going to book an appointment, but lovely Kadie at the front desk assured me it wasn’t necessary.”

The technician’s heavily mascaraed eyes lit up at him. He probably looked like someone who spent a lot of time at spas, because he did. If she was hoping he was going to take his breakup frustration and sexual longing for the stranger he’d just met and channel that energy into indulging in as much pampering as he could muster, she was in luck.

“No appointment necessary,” the technician purred. “Not for a pretty thing like you.”

“Oh, goody,” Ashby squeaked, wondering if he was going to get eaten alive. “That’s, um, wonderful.”

She beamed at him. “Anything in particular?”

Ashby eyed up the board with the list of available treatments. “All of them?” he joked.

The technician laughed. “Aw hun, in need of some TLC are you? Don’t worry. My name’s Skye and I’m going to fix you right up. How does a back massage sound to start with?”

Ashby sighed. “Heavenly.” He offered her his hand, which she shook. “I’m Ashby, by the way. I’ll probably be bothering you an awful lot over the next few weeks.”

Skye clicked her tongue and beckoned him to follow her. “Oh, that accent. You can come in as often as you like, sugar,” she said, winking over her shoulder at him. “Business slows down this time of year, so you feel free to come keep me company any time.”

“You’re very kind,” Ashby said, following her into the treatment room. The low-level lighting helped this particular area look slightly less run down than others and the scent of lavender intensified. Ashby sighed and got himself settled on the massage table.

For an hour, he drifted in and out as Skye’s hands worked their magic. He could tell by the tender patches she found that he had a lot of knots, but she didn’t comment until they were finished and she was eagerly laying him down for a full mud facial.

“You got a lot on your mind, hon?” she asked, cleansing his skin before applying the mask. At a glance, Ashby would guess the products they were using were about a decade behind current skincare trends. But that would make them cheaper, so it made sense. This place, for whatever reason, was clearly on its knees.

“Trying not to,” he replied with a sigh. The clay felt cool as she smoothed it over his cheeks with a brush. “The Grand looked like an ideal place to come and forget everything,” he admitted.

She snorted and clicked her tongue again, like she was popping bubble gum. “That’s because everybody else went and forgot this place, too,” she said. Ashby looked up to see her shake her head upside down at him. “Swish young fella like yourself would have loved it round here in its heyday. Why on earth you’d want to come here when you could go to Aspen, I don’t know.”