Chapter One
Sara
I lick the tip of my index finger and swipe it across the top of my eyelids, then the bottom, attempting to smudge the mascara I’d applied this morning back into place. It doesn’t work.
I regret the waterproof brand I purchased every day lately. For one, it doesn’t stick to my eyelashes when I cry. It sticks to my face.
Why?
Don’t most women want to be able to have little breakdowns in the backroom without looking like a complete wreck when the next client walks in? Then again, maybe it’s not common to have emotional breakdowns multiple times a week. I really don’t know anymore.
The bell above the door rings, and an unsettled panic squeezes my chest. I’m not ready to socialize yet this morning. Heck, I might not be ready at all today. Last night was another draining argument with Pete.
I don’t have much left, but I have no idea how to leave. Sure, I know what actions to take. I pack a bag, rent a new place, and walk out the door. If it were that easy, I’d have done it already. Trouble is, there’s a part of me that believes him when he says the issues between us are my fault.
Iamthe one that always wants to talk about my feelings.I amthe one that’s always bringing up new issues.I amthe one who needs to get something resembling resolution before we move on. I think he’d be perfectly content to play video games, watch sports, and nap for the rest of eternity if I wasn’t asking for anything.
None of that matters right now, though. Right now, I have to focus on my job. If I ever want to change anything, I need to stay self-sufficient.
This morning, Wade requested an extra early appointment so he could make a meeting on time. Given he’s a regular and a standard cut, I gladly said yes. We’re a small shop, and I figure the more flexible I can be with my clients, the more reason for them to come back. Anything to stay competitive with the bigger salon down the street.
I drag in a deep breath, brush my fingers through my hair, and swing open the door, attempting a bright smile as I walk toward the giant waiting at the front counter. I’m not sure how tall he is exactly, but I know he looks bigger every time I see him. I’d guess he’s over six and a half feet, with broad shoulders, strong biceps, and these massive hands that look like they could and have fixed everything.
“Morning!”
He nods toward me once and unfolds his arms, which for him, is a smile. “Morning. Sorry I’m a few minutes early. The coffee shop was nearly empty, so I was in and out.” He hands me a carryout cup and a pink paper bag. “You like a mocha latte and a warm croissant, right?”
The tips of his rough fingers touch mine on the transfer and my heart squeezes.
Why is my heart squeezing?Sure, Wade is a handsome guy. He’s also probably twenty-five years older than me. Oh, and I’m engaged.
“That was nice of you!” I take a sip of the hot coffee and set it with the pastry bag down on my station. “You didn’t have to do that!”
He settles down in my chair with a grunt under his breath, as though his back is hurting. “I was right there and I’m sure you skipped breakfast again trying to get out of the house this morning.” He brushes his thick fingers back to take off his cap and stares at me in the mirror.
I try not to notice how green his eyes are or how impossibly hulking he looks in this flannel.
God, I need to calm down. The man has sat in my chair every other week for a while now. I’m used to his rough and rugged face. I’m used to brushing against his solid shoulders. I’m used to hearing his deep voice. Why am I getting all hot and bothered?
Clearly, I’m starving for affection.
“Well, thank you.” I fasten the cape around his thick neck and run my fingers up through the back of his hair to see what I’m working with. “You’re right, I didn’t get breakfast this morning. Jasper was fussing a lot today.” I leave out the part about how I was up all night crying and how I don’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep.
“See, told ya.” He takes a sip of his own coffee and lowers it again, watching me through the mirror as I grab the spray bottle, wetting his hair as I work the water through with my hands. “Feel free to eat and work. Won’t bother me none. I put molding on late last night with a burger in one hand.” He laughs without smiling. “I’ll be glad when this project is done.”
“You guys are finishing up this week, right? Everyone is talking about the distillery.” I drag in a breath of the cedar scent that surrounds him. “My friend Ivy knows one of the brothers buying the place. She’s pretty happy to have him back in town again.”
Wade nods slowly and takes another sip of coffee. “Yeah, should be interesting. I’m not sure what I think of it all yet, but I’m not huge on change. Kinda liked things the way they were,” he shrugs, “but I guess we need to cater to all kinds of folks.”
I comb through his hair as we talk. It’s so nice to have a conversation with someone that doesn’t result in a correction of my opinion or some sort of power struggle. “I hear they’ll be making all these different types of moonshine. Not my thing either, but I love the mason jars they’re advertising.”
He readjusts his hands beneath the cape, resting them on the arms of the chair. “Well, the owners bought a huge advertising banner for the rodeo out in the Springs this weekend, so I reckon they’re expecting a big opener come next week.”
“Oh shoot!” I hitch my hip as I gather and eyeball an inch before snipping. “I forgot the rodeo is this weekend. I wanted to take Jasper. He’s so into cowboys right now.” I smile genuinely as I recall how happy he was playing in the living room before bed. “He’s got this stick horse he rides around the house and pretends to wrangle stuffed animals with a slinky.”
“He’s gotta be getting pretty old.”
“He’ll be three next month.” I grin and make another snip. “I think I’ll do a cowboy-themed birthday for him and his preschool friends. Maybe the rodeo can be an early gift.”
