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.
She smiled. A genuine smile.
Do it again.
Her smile fell away and it appeared she was having some kind of inner debate. Whatever it was went quickly because she sighed and the grabbed up the bright-green container of what she put in my hair and held it out. “Here, this is what I used. You can take it.”
“You’re giving this to me?”
She bit her bottom lip (which drove me crazy) and nodded. “You can use it to make your hair look like that.”
I looked at the product clutched in her hand and then up at her face. “Have dinner with me.”
She jerked like I slapped her. That wasn’t really the reaction I was hoping for.
“What?”
“Dinner. Tonight. With me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you weren’t interested.”
I laughed. “Do you think I would subject myself to this place if I wasn’t?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You could always ask Layla.”
“I already asked you.”
She shoved the hair stuff in my hand and then picked up a broom and dust pan. Her movements were stiff as she cleaned up what little hair she cut off me. “You had your chance. You never called.”
I grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around. “You had a good time.”
“You have a big ego.”
I moved quickly, crowding her personal space. “Are you saying you didn’t? Are you saying you don’t feel the chemistry between us?”