“Holy shit,” Stella swore. “Honey, haven’t I seen you somewhere before? I know, on the TV showVikings.”
He shot Stella a devastating grin. “That would be my little brother.” At her look of astonishment, he said, “I’m kidding.”
Cara and Tommie just stared.
Rena rolled her eyes. “Come on, Ragnar. Let’s get a look at you.”
Stella joined her at the hip. “Can I watch?”
“Us too?” one of the women waiting asked.
“No.” Rena grabbed him by the arm. The others laughed, and the chatter resumed.
Rena led Axel through the large outer room, comprised of a small waiting area, a main desk, and two salon stations. Off the outer room, Stella typically worked at the dedicated nails and makeup table. They had a bathroom and additional back room occupied by two additional chairs and a wash station.
“I like this place,” Axel said, sounding like he meant it. “It looks like you.”
She looked around, proud and still stunned that her dream of owning her own place had finally come true. She’d saved for years, worked a bevy of jobs, and networked her tail off to find clients, so that when she’d officially opened a month ago, she’d known she was in good standing to make her business work.
She’d chosen to expose the brick behind the band of mirror that reached from wall to wall in the outer room, keeping the rest of the space white with bursts of fuchsia and funky graphic art done by local artists. The old wooden floors hid dirt while also making it easy enough to clean and provided yet another hint of character. Rena liked to think her place was fun, fresh, and creative.
“Thanks. I like it. Mike and his brothers helped with renovations, and my landlord is pretty pleased with how it turned out too. I give her free haircuts, and she takes money off the place every month.”
“Not free. A trade then.” Axel sat in the chair she directed him to, and she was glad she’d invested in something sturdy and practical, not just fashionable. A fair share of male clientele came in as well as women of all shapes and sizes. Rena had no intention of discriminating when it came to making people look and feel good about themselves.
Still, it took some effort to lower Axel’s chair so she could give him a proper study. She ran her hands over his hair, secretly loving the silky strands, aware she was touching him, standing so close she could smell a hint of cologne. Her body tingled all over, and she clenched her legs together.
She cleared her throat and focused. “So, how about I shave the sides and focus on the top being a little longer?”
He stared at her in the mirror. “Whatever you want.”
She found it hard to swallow, the air between them suddenly charged. “Um, okay. And the beard and mustache. We keeping them or do they go?”
“Whatever you want.” That came out much huskier than his previous line. Damned if she wasn’t imagining what that facial hair would feel like between her legs.
“Great. Need water. Be right back.” She raced into the bathroom and rinsed her heated face with cold water. Then she left to grab a cup from the water cooler by the front desk and downed it in one swallow.
“I feel you, girl,” Stella murmured and slapped her on the back. “Now go cut your man.”
Rena felt foolish for darting away, but she returned to Axel with a professional smile. She put a salon cape on him and took her time, driven to give him the best dang haircut of his life.
She did most of the talking, with his occasional grunt or comment thrown in. She appreciated that he’d given one of his employees her card. “Say, I never thought about it. But would you like to set out some Heller’s Paint and Auto Body cards? We have a local business board by the front door.”
“Sure.” Another one-word answer. She cut and clipped, keeping the top long, the sides short, and couldn’t believe how amazing he looked with the transformation.
“You like it?” she asked as he stared at himself in the mirror.
He frowned. “It’s different. But, yes, I like it.”
She led him to the wash station, had him sit, and washed his hair. His low groans of pleasure didn’t help her calm down much. The sight of his long torso and even longer legs stretched out while she ran her fingers over his scalp gave her inappropriate thoughts she’d never before had for a client, and at work no less.
She did her best to behave professionally and finished the shampoo then used a small amount of conditioner. She towel-dried his hair before leading him back to the chair.
“You have magic hands,” he told her, his eyes really dark.
She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome.” He cracked his neck, and she winced. “Ah, better.”
