Wade tilts his head to the side. “I think tickets are sold out, but y’all are welcome to ride up with me. I have a buddy that’s a bull rider. I bet he could get me some extra tickets.”
I straighten his head again, so the cuts are even, then let the fantasy run through my head as though it’s actually a possibility. Jasper and I piling into Wade’s lifted truck. The three of us riding to the Springs with pastries in hand, Wade telling us old ranching and military stories. His big, rough hand landing on my thigh.
Oh God!
“Thank you,” I say quickly, “but I couldn’t go without Pete. He’s—”
“Of course, Pete’s invited too. Sorry if that wasn’t clear.” He lifts his cup again, taking a longer sip this time. “I’ll call my buddy tonight and see what I can do.”
“No,” a sick feeling washes over me, “that’s okay. Pete isn’t really into the whole rodeo thing.” I snip the last few bits of hair before grabbing the clippers off my station.
Another single nod from Wade. “Okay, but he’ll want to go for Jasper’s sake, I’m sure.”
I flick on the clippers, letting the noise fill in the space as tears well in my eyes. I can’t do this right now. I can’t cry. I don’t even know what triggered it. Sure, Pete isn’t into the rodeo, but I know with a little prodding he’d go. That’s what matters right, that he’d go. It’s not important that he wouldn’t enjoy it with me.
Desperately trying to focus on the sound of the clippers, I push them across the sides of Wade’s head, sweeping with my fingers as I work to keep the hair from accumulating.
Oh my God! I can’t cry right now!
Stop being a baby! You’re ridiculous. You’re at work. This is a professional conversation with a man that you see every other week. You can’t lose his business, let things get all weird, and—
“Hey,” he calls, his deep voice cutting through the noise of the clippers.
I glance toward him in the mirror as the warm heat from a tear rolls down my cheek.
I wipe it away quickly and force a smile. “Yeah?”
“What’s wrong?” His thick brows narrow. “Did I say something?”
“No.” I close my eyes and shake my head as I trim the back of his neck then turn off the clippers. “Sorry. I’m just exhausted.The last few nights have been rough, and I think it’s all catching up with me.”
“Rough how?” He hooks the chair from the waiting area with the tip of his boot and pulls it toward him, nodding toward it as though he wants me to sit.
I brush off the back of his cape and take him up on the offer, though I’m not exactly sure why. I know I shouldn’t sit. He’s my client. A regular client. A client I don’t want to look like an ass in front of.
A moment later, he’s handing me the coffee and the croissant from the pretty pink pastry bag he brought in earlier.
“You don’t have to do all this.”
“Rough how?” he repeats, holding the food out in front of me.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head as I brush against his thick fingers again, taking the breakfast. “You know how life goes. Just gets exhausting sometimes. I’m sure everything will pick up again soon.”
He pinches his lips together and nods slowly as though he’s reconciling what he wants to say before he says it. “I know we don’t talk about him much and I know it’s probably inappropriate for me to even mention it, but I get the feeling this is about the fiancé. He was the last person you were talking about before you teared up.”
A heavy breath staggers in, and before I can comprehend my next thought, I’m bent over in tears.
Oh, my freaking God! How do I stop this? Better yet, how do I disappear and restart the day completely?
I try to think about anything. Anything that might get me out of this headspace. The squash seeds I want to plant for spring. The sweater I was looking at on Amazon last night. The toothpaste I need to stop and grab for Jasper on my way home.
Anything that might pull me out of this craziness.
“I’m sorry,” I say, lifting my head to take a sip of coffee. “Like I said, I’m exhausted is all. It’s been a long week.”
He tugs his cape off and stands from the chair before reaching for the broom I keep next to my station.
“What are you doing?”
