![]() ![]() ![]() Not that Chris dug into the minor details either. The others trusted Chris to understand the importance of privacy. Matt mingled with them all: Dare, Trace, Jackson and Spencer. ![]() He didn’t-couldn’t-know the high-level, influential and powerful reach of Dare’s assignments. Matt was different, exciting, fun and easy to be with.īut the big problem remained: Matt had no idea what Chris really did for his friend and employer, Dare Macintosh. More appealing than the good looks and fit bod was his outlook on life. He owned his own upscale salon and catered to the elite-people who were, again, nothing like Chris. A hairdresser, for crying out loud-though Matt insisted on being called a Master Stylist. On his stomach, dead to the world, the rumpled sheet covering only a small part of his lower body, Matt slept on undisturbed. Dressed in his usual aged and faded T-shirt with comfortably loose shorts, his feet bare and his hair finger-combed, Chris stared at the bed. ![]()
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