Toward the very back of the room were several stations of people getting their nails done, something I never planned to do. Just being in this place to get my hair cut was a danger to my man card.
The guys at the station would have a field day if they could see me now.
The receptionist perked up as soon as her eyes landed on me, so I smiled and stepped forward. “Is Julie available for a haircut?” I asked, glancing in Julie’s direction.
She was cutting someone’s hair and laughing. The sound caused something in me to tighten. I replayed that laugh over in my head so many times in the past few weeks, but nothing I ever heard in my head sounded near as good as the live thing.
“Julie is with a client,” the receptionist said. “But Layla has an opening.”
The girl I presumed was Layla came forward, long, dark hair swinging around her shoulders. She was pretty hot. Her lips were red and she wore impressive high heels accentuating her mile-long legs.
I considered my options. Accepting and letting Layla cut my hair would probably be a smart move. I told myself I wouldn’t come here anyway, yet here I stood. My eyes drifted over to Julie. She was no longer paying attention to the client in her chair but was watching me.
Layla stepped closer and put a hand on my arm. “Ready?”
Something passed behind Julie’s eyes… something that looked suspiciously like disappointment. Then she turned back to what she was doing.
“I’ll wait for Julie,” I said.
Layla’s eyes widened in surprise. I flashed her a grin. “Nothing personal. Maybe next time.”
She smiled and grabbed a card off the reception desk and held it out. “Here’s my card. It has my number on it. If you ever want to make an appointment… or go out for drinks.”
Any other time I would have been all over this girl. I would have asked her out on the spot. But today I had no interest. Today, the back of my neck itched because I felt the subdued gray-blue-eyed stare I knew was behind me.
I forced a smile toward Layla and pocketed the card, giving her a little wink. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
Yeah, it was a lie. But I wasn’t about to hurt her feelings.
She gave me a smile and then moved away, shaking her hips as she went. I watched… because I was a guy. And because it was a nice view.
I took a seat near the reception desk, looking at all the girly magazines and products around me. Man, I must really have it bad to subject myself to a place like this.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long. Julie escorted her client to the reception desk and gave her a warm smile while she helped her schedule another appointment for a future date. I couldn’t help but watch her.
There was something sincere about her. Something that drew my eyes like she was standing under a spotlight that only I could see. Her bangs were falling over one eye and every once in a while she would push at them while she talked. It was a move I found oddly endearing.
Once the client was gone, Julie turned her eyes toward me. I noticed her smile lost a little bit of its authenticity. I didn’t like that. Not at all.
“Blue,” she said, coming over to stand before me.
I stood up. “Got time for a haircut?”
Her eyes raked over my face and then to my hair. Her body was slightly tense, and I prepared myself for a no.
“Yeah,” she said. “Come on back.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding and followed her to her station. She was wearing a pair of white jeans that hugged her ass like a glove. Her black and white shirt had wide horizontal stripes on it, was fitted, and hugged her back and narrow waist.
When she turned and gestured to the chair, I noticed the necklace hanging low around her neck. It was a giant red heart that hung crooked. Her hair was its usual “just been laid” look and for once it made me a little mad instead of turned on.
I didn’t want to think about her getting her hair messed up like that by anyone but me.
I needed a beer. While I was watching sports. This damn girly fru-fru place was starting to get to me.
“Just trimming you up today?” Julie said, pulling out a black cape to drape around my shoulders.
I took it as a good sign she wasn’t going to try to torture me with the pink one today.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll do like last time and trim it up. Then I’ll shampoo it for you.” When her hands delved into my hair and rubbed against my scalp, little goose bumps broke out over my arms.
“You have really good hair,” she murmured.
“So do you.”
The compliment seemed to make her mad, and she pulled her hands away to reach for her tools. Why did women have to be so damn complicated all the time?
She used the clippers on the side, shortening it up a bit and then cleaning up the neck area. Then she used the scissors to trim the top. As she worked, the only sound between us was the light snipping of the sheers.
“So I never apologized for not calling after our date.”
Her movements paused. Her eyes darted to me in the mirror and then quickly away. She used the black comb to pull up a section of hair and began cutting again. “No big deal,” she replied nonchalantly.
“I wanted to.”
She snorted. It made me smile.
“Things at work got crazy. I had to go out of town.”
She looked at me again. “You did?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I was gone for a while.”
“I hope everything’s okay.”
“It’s fine.”
She set down the scissors and ran her fingers through my hair again. I had to work to keep my eyes open.
“All done,” she said, patting me on the shoulder. “Let’s get you shampooed.”
Damn. That was fast. Dutifully, I followed her back to the shampoo bowl and sat down. The water was warm, the shampoo smelled pretty good… and her hands… Damn, I loved having her hands on me.
Once again, I was happy this cape was so long.
This time after she blow-dried it, she put a little something on her fingers and rubbed them together. Her movements were quick and sure when she styled it, and then she stepped aside for me to see. The front was tousled and sticking up a little.
She gave me the “just been laid” look.
An image of me shoving her up against the mirror and burying my tongue in her mouth flashed through my head. It was so strong and so wanted that my hands clenched into fists in my lap.
“I did something a little different,” she said, looking a little unsure.
“I like it,” I said, noting the hoarseness in my tone.