He opened his eyes and met her ice-blue gaze. “I could listen to you talk all damn day. Your voice?” He tapped his cape-covered chest with his fist. “So damn soothing, and I promise that’s not a line.” It was the truth—her soft, melodic voice calmed every nerve in his body. And yet at the same time, it set them all on fire.
The corners of her lips slowly lifted up, and that soft-pink blush that was quickly becoming his favorite stole over her cheeks. “That’s sweet of you to say.” Heat flared in her eyes before she averted her gaze and cleared her throat. “But now, it’s time to close your eyes again.”
Doing the opposite, his eyes widened in question.
“Hot towel time. Plus, a shoulder massage.” Smiling, she lowered her voice to a cute conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve been told this is the best part.”
Though his skepticism was high because the scalp massage had been fantastic and he doubted anything could beat it, Xander closed his eyes.
Ten minutes later, the warm towel had been replaced twice, and he was utterly relaxed and grinning.
Holy. Shit.
He’d thought Freya’s scalp massage was amazing? Nope. The current massage she was giving him was ridiculous. She’d worked his shoulders and each of his arms until he was basically putty in her hands.
“Alright, big guy,” she murmured, removing the damp, warm towel from his face. “Back to the chair.”
He sighed, gazing up at her. “Do we have to?”
Softly shaking her head, she patted his shoulders. “Let’s go, handsome.”
Grinning, he rose, followed her across the salon, and settled back into the plush salon chair. Once situated, he opened his mouth to comment on the fabulous massage, but when he noticed what she was holding, his mouth slammed shut. He side-eyed her.
Noticing his expression, Freya laughed. Because of course she did.
“Relax,” she said, waving the hair dryer in her right hand. “This doesn’t revoke your man card. I need your hair dry to make sure it’s even. Besides, it’s cold outside, and you don’t want to go out with wet hair.” Glancing at him in the mirror, she arched an eyebrow. “You’ve trusted me this far, right?”
“Go for it,” he said, nodding. In all honesty, she could do whatever the hell she wanted so long as she kept running her fingers through his hair.
Once his hair was dry, she brought out the scissors again, snipping here and cutting there. When she was done, he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. Not because of what she’d done to his hair, because it looked good. Really good. But because now she was done touching him. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that over the last forty-five minutes, he’d become addicted to her touch.
After brushing a damp towel over his neck, she unsnapped the cape and whipped it off him. “What do you think?”
Running his hand through his hair, he met her gaze in the mirror and grinned. “It looks great. A giant upgrade.”
She grinned. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Are you sure I can’t pay you for this? I mean, what you did was way more than a haircut.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s my thank-you for coming to my rescue that first day.” He frowned, and she laughed. “You can pay the next time you’re due for a haircut. How about that?”
Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he stood. “I suppose. Can I take you to dinner now?”
“Yes,” she said, chuckling. Then she inclined her head toward the waiting area. “But give me a couple minutes to clean up?”
“Take your time.” Besides, it would give him more time to figure out how he could get her hands back on him. Yeah, he wasn’t in the market for a relationship, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have some fun together.
CHAPTER NINE
After sweeping up her area and putting her tools away, Freya hustled to the employee breakroom to retrieve her belongings. She had to admit that Xander’s haircut had gone better than she’d thought. She’d been worried their conversation would be awkward and stifled, but it hadn’t been. He was a genuinely nice guy who was easy to talk to. He had a flirty, sarcastic humor that she found endearing.
She frowned.Endearing? Nah, the man wasn’t a sweet great-grandpa telling stories of days past.Endearingwasn’t the right word at all.
She found the man attractive. Beyond his stunning good looks, she foundhimattractive—personality, humor, and all. Professionally speaking, he also had a great head of hair. Dark brown and slightly wavy with natural caramel highlights. Women paid good money for hair like his. She’d know because she’d done countless extensions that achieved that type of thickness.
Unprofessionally speaking, the man was ridiculously hot. Had she run her fingers through his hair a teeny tiny bit more than necessary?
One hundred percent.
