Glancing at the clock, Dia saw time had flown by, and it was already five o'clock, which meant it was time to start closing the salon for the night.
She was almost done with her routine, sweeping the floor one last time, when she started to think about the Stone. The man was impossible. Every day her little salon had been open he had come in to see her. The first time was for a haircut and to ask her out on a date. She had given him a trim and told him no on the date. Then she had charged him double what she normally would for a men's cut just to be a pain in his ass. That hadn't stopped the man from coming back, though.
Every day, he asked the same question: "Will you go out with me tonight?"
Every day, for six days straight, Dia had given him the same answer: "No."
And just before he would leave, Stone would say the same thing: "As you wish, princess."
The first time he had said that to her, she had flipped him the bird. The second time, because there hadn't been anyone in the shop to see her do it, she had thrown a comb at his head. The man had simply ducked the flying arsenal and laughed at her. The third time he called her princess, she had been ready to rip both his and her own hair out in a frustrated rage. By the fourth day, however, she couldn't help wondering why not? Even after he had shown up and she had once again told him "no," she had found herself thinking about him after he had left.
Why did he come in every day to ask the same question, knowing he was probably going to get the same answer? And why did he insist on calling her "princess?" It had to be because he knew it drove her crazy.
What he didn't know was, by the fifth day, it had also made her smile after he left. The man had the balls to say it to her every day, and apparently, she liked that in a man more than she had realized. So much so, that later that night, while she had been lying in bed, she had started to think about him. His gorgeous smile and pretty eyes. How his rugged features made him stand out in a crowd. It was then that Dia had decided that, if Stone came back for more than a week, she would give in and let him take her out on a date.
Now it was day seven, and Dia was nervous. Would Stone come by again? Or had he taken all of her noes to heart and given up on her? It wasn't until now, at the thought of losing his attention, that Dia realized just how much she had come to crave it. And here it was, five-thirty and Stone had yet to come by for the day.
Disheartened that she had scared away the man who had become the object of her fascination, Dia turned out the lights, walked out the front door, and locked her salon up for the night.
Completely preoccupied with her thoughts and feeling sort of sad, she turned and started walking toward her car, her eyes on the ground. That was probably why, as she walked around the front of her car, she didn't see the car flying toward her down the busy street.
Tires squealed, catching her attention. She turned her head just in time to see a black Jeep racing straight toward her. Truly, it was only ten feet or so from hitting her, and she knew she was probably about to die.
That didn't stop her from turning and throwing herself in the direction she had just come from, but as she felt something hit her hard, she realized it was too late. She hadn't moved fast enough to get out of the Jeep's path.
Her back hit the hood of her car and a heavy weight slammed down on top of her as she heard the Jeep rev its engine and drive on. Dia listened to the vehicle as it disappeared into the distance, unwilling to open her eyes. The weight on top of her was so heavy she figured it was probably a piece of the Jeep that had broken off. With her luck, it would probably crush her to death. She figured it would be better if she just laid there and hoped she died quickly.
A few silent minutes passed, and then the heavy weight on top of her shifted, just plain freaking her the fuck out! How could a piece of car laying on top of you move when you were lying still?
"Are you just going to lie there all night?"
Her eyes popped open in shock at the rumbly voice that had spoken to her, and she gasped.
There was Stone, not some piece of a Jeep, holding her down on the hood of her car. Now that she was paying attention, she could feel every hard muscle of his body pressing against hers. His legs were straddling her, lining his body up with hers perfectly, his manhood snug against her core.
Honestly, Dia didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Part of her wanted to laugh because the very man she had been thinking about was on top of her. The other part of her wanted to cry because she had thought she was going to be a goner there for a second. Thanks to the man staring down at her, she was going to keep breathing long enough to try out that red hair dye she had been eyeing for the last year.
Dia was just about to thank Stone, but in true annoying man fashion, he opened his mouth and said, "You know, I just saved your life."
"Yes, and I'm very grateful for that," she told him honestly. "Now, can you please get off me? I think we should probably call the police. Whoever that was in the Jeep was driving like a maniac!"
Stone didn't move a muscle. Instead, he asked, "Will you go out with me now?"
The question made her queasy stomach flip, which wasn't really a good thing at the moment.
"You're not going to give up, are you?" Dia asked, trying to push down the urge to be sick. It wasn't that she had second thoughts about going out with Stone; it was the knowledge that she had almost just bit the dust! And here he was, lying on top of her and asking her out for a date!
He brought his head down until they were nose to nose. "On you, princess? Never."
That temper of hers flared to life. "I just almost died! Are you kidding me? Get off me, you ass, so I can call the cops!"
"Not until you agree to go out with me."
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" she yelled angrily at him.
Stone, however, wasn't the least bit bothered by Dia's anger. He just kept staring at her as he said, "Well, are you going to go out with me now or what? I can lie here like this all night, princess."
"Yes!" Dia shouted in frustration. "Yes, I'll go out with you! Now, please get off me."
Stone slid down her body until his feet hit the ground, and then he grabbed her hand and pulled her up.
The moment Dia's feet hit the ground, she was looking through her purse for her cell phone. And the second she whipped it out, Stone grabbed it from her.
"You won't be needing that, sweetheart."
Giving him an incredulous look, Dia asked, "Why the hell not?"
He nodded toward the direction the Jeep had disappeared. "That was old woman Jones. She's almost ninety years old and drives to the grocery store once a week. Problem is, she has a lead foot, and I suspect she's blind as a bat. She probably never saw you standing there. Now, you wouldn't want to put an old lady in jail, would you?"
Dia's jaw dropped open as she realized what he had just done. "You tricked me into a date."
The infuriating man had the nerve to smile at her. "I'll do what I have to do to get what I want. Keep that in mind, princess." Handing her phone back, Stone then turned away and headed toward his truck, whistling.
Dia watched him open the door and climb in, still too shocked at his devious ploy to say anything else.
Before he closed the door, he looked back to her and winked. "See you tomorrow for lunch, princess." Then the man shut his truck door and drove away like he hadn't just turned her entire world upside down.
Damn men! If he hadn't just saved her life, she would totally Taser his nuts.
Chapter Two
One week later …
"I want you to make me a strawberry blonde, but I don't want you to use any red, orange, or gold hair dyes. Just the strawberry and the blonde."
Dia looked at her new client with what she hoped wasn't murder in her eyes. Why was it that women always thought they could come in here and ask the impossible of her? Did she look like some sort of wish-granting genie? Since she was wearing her normal black dress pants, a cute top, her favorite heels, with her hair and makeup done, she would have to say that, no, she did not look like a freaking genie. Unless there was an alternate world where genies looked like super curvy, hairstyling Barbie dolls.
She couldn't just haul off and let the woman have it, though, so she tried to be nice about it. Miss Dempey-"
"That's Mrs. Dempey, young lady," her client told her with a disdainful sniff.
Dia's temper flared, and she had to silently chant to herself not to cut a bald spot on the woman's head.