My lips turn up into a smirk as I open the door and pick up Cleo. “You talk to your kid, don't you? Cleo just doesn’t talk back.”
“Touché.”
Just as we're about to go inside, the creak of a door opening down the street draws my attention. I glance back out the door to see Tom, Karen’s husband, turning on his hose to water the hedges.
At eleven o’clock at night.
Micah’s shoulders tense under the fabric of his shirt. “Fucking bastard. Does he think anyone is buying that bullshit?”
So much for privacy. “Let's just get inside.”
“Hey, Tom!” Micah steps back onto the porch and raises both hands high in the air, middle fingers erect. “If you want something to look at, I got a couple things for you!”
“Micah!” I grab his waist with my free hand and drag him back inside, slamming the door after him. “You're gonna get us both in trouble.”
“He shouldn’t be creeping on your house in the middle of the night.”
Cleo fusses until I let her go and proceeds to shoot me an indignant glare as she stalks off into the living room. I guess her excitement at seeing me come home is negated by Micah’s presence. “She's got the right idea. Let's go sit on the couch, away from the front windows. We can open a bottle of wine and find something to stream until we get tired.”
“Sure … as long as I can make a weird request.”
That's suspicious. “What kind of request?”
He reaches out and runs a hand through my hair. The touch sends a thrill down my spine. “You've got such pretty hair, but I never see you do anything with it. Let me braid it for you.”
Nervous laughter bubbles out of me. “I don’t even know if I own any hair ties.” I don’t know why that matters, but it's the only response I can think of. Which is stupid, because Idoown hair ties. Well, at least one. Somewhere in here.
He holds up his wrist, which I now see has a small collection of stretchy ties around it. “That's okay. I brought plenty. I always keep some around for Hailey’s hair.”
It never occurred to me that Micah must be the one who braids Hailey’s hair, but now that he mentions it, it makes sense. I'm actually kind of impressed. Most guys wouldn’t bother to learn stuff like that.
He cracks his knuckles and heads for the living room. “You bring the wine and the hair. I'll bring the magic.”
Chapter 9
Micah
“Hold still. You're moving around more than Hailey does.”
Iris shifts in her seat on the couch—again. “Sorry.”
It took Iris a few minutes to get ready for braid time … and I got kind of disappointed when she disappeared upstairs and returned in leggings and an oversized tee. I guess she wasn't comfy in her date night dress, though it doesn’t bode well for the rest ofmynight. If she's already getting in pajamas, does it mean she's done with her wardrobe changes for the evening?
At least it's one of those v-neck tees. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit I like the view over her shoulder. I'm, like, ninety percent sure she left her bra upstairs.
“Your hair is softer than Hailey’s, but in a way that makes this harder. Hailey’s hair holds the braid better.”
Iris nods, and I lose half the plait again.
Not that I mind getting to play with her hair for this long. Soft and silky, and such a gorgeous honey-blonde shade. I could watch the light play off of it for hours. Which is a good thing, because at this rate it's going to take hours to braid it.
“This feels nice.” She tilts her head just a bit, enough to take a sip from her wine glass, but I manage to keep my grip on the sections of hair I'm working with. “It’s almost like when I get a cut and the stylist massages my scalp while she’s washing it.”
Note to self: Iris digs this. I’m filing that info away for later.
I finally finish with the second braid, pulling an elastic from my wrist and wrapping it around the end a few times to secure it. “There! Do you have a mirror?”
She hands me her phone instead. “Here. Take a picture.”
