Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Hudson makes his way back inside and points at my chair. I nod and finish up scheduling a cut and highlights for the customer on the phone. Ending the call, I click around on the computer like I’m busy, when really, I’m just stalling. I’ve cut Hudson’s hair more times than I can count since Raven and I opened Sheer Sisters three years ago. I shouldn’t be avoiding it, avoiding him, like I am today, but here I am. I’m clicking on shit that doesn’t need to be clicked on just to give myself some time to what? Get psyched? Nah, I’m already there. His hair is feather soft, and I relish the times that I’m who gets to give him his cut, and I’m allowed to run my fingers through it.
Taking a deep breath, I stand from the reception chair and plaster a smile on my face. Turning to walk to my station, I see Hudson already in the chair. “Ready?”
“You know it.” He flashes me a grin.
“The usual?” I don’t know why I ask. Hudson keeps his hair neatly trimmed and the same with his beard. He never changes.
“I like it tight,” he says, and his eyes get big, and he backpedals, knowing how it sounded. “High and tight,” he corrects, but the damage is already done. I’m a twenty-three-year-old woman, and my mind instantly went to the gutter like a teenage boy. He likes it tight.
“That’s what she said.” Carly laughs from Raven’s chair that’s next to mine.
My head turns toward her, and she must see the shock and humor in my face. She chuckles and shrugs under her cape. “I have a nineteen-year-old.” Then she gives me a look that says “see, I told you I could be his mother,” and winks.
“Yes!” Raven walks around the chair and smiles at her client. “If I didn’t have color on these gloves, I’d be giving you a high-five.” She laughs.
Hudson mumbles something about “dirty minds,” but I pretend not to hear him and dig around in my drawers for a comb and make sure my clippers are plugged in.
“You’re all set,” Raven tells Carly. “Twenty minutes. Can I get you anything to drink?” Raven offers.
“No, thank you. You need the chair?” Carly asks.
“I do. Do you mind moving over to the love seat?” She points at the leather love seat that’s our own spin on a comfortable waiting spot when we book clients between colors and perms. We didn’t want to send them back to the small waiting room feeling exposed with their hair caked in goo or in curlers, so we came up with a small leather couch, a TV, and some magazines—basically, a second waiting room. Our customers have given us a lot of compliments on it.
Grabbing a cape, I drape it around Hudson and fasten it at the back of his neck. Grabbing my clippers, I get to work. “Head down,” I instruct, and he does as I ask without question. He’s in here what seems like every other week or every three weeks getting his hair trimmed. I guess that’s the perks of your best friend and her sister owning the only salon in town.
Normally, I would make small talk, but I’m off today. I can’t say why exactly, but I know I’m doing a shit job of hiding that he turns me inside out with just a look.
Walking around the chair, I raise the seat and lean in to trim his sideburns. Taking a step back, I study him to make sure they’re even. The entire time he’s watching me. His eyes are following my every move. Nerves get the better of me, and I drop the comb I was using. When I bend over to pick it up, I lose my balance and end up falling into him, where he sits in the chair.
Like I said, I’m off today.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” I say, scrambling to stand back on my feet.
“Hey.” His voice is soft. His hands somehow managed to appear from under the cape and grip my arms. “You all right?” he asks. His blue eyes seem to see right through me. My arms feel as though they’ve been burned from the heat of his touch.
“I’m good.” I stand, breaking the connection. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s not a hardship to have a beautiful woman falling at my feet, Riley,” he murmurs. His voice is gravelly.
Do you hear that sound? It’s not a storm rolling in. Nope, that’s just the beat of my heart in my chest. It’s so loud, I know everyone in the room must be able to hear it. I swallow hard before bending over slowly and grabbing the comb that I dropped. I quickly turn to place it in the cleaning solution jar at my station and grab another from my drawer.