“It looks lovely as usual.” Trish slowly rose from the chair and leaned in to say to Merry, “I hope you have a pleasant evening.”
Merry didn’t respond but walked ahead of the woman and rang up the charge.
“I’ll see you at the ball.” Trish sent Carlisle a huge grin and waggled her eyebrows as she passed him.
“Carlisle, I’ll be just a minute. I need to clean up my station first.” Merry indicated he should stay seated.
She and Carlisle had spent almost every evening together because Alex was determined Grace should get to see each new window. The man was as easy to talk to as he was to look at—and Merry had dreamed about him every night this week. And here he was at her work. He must have left his office early.
Drat Coleta for blabbing about the neck rub. Now it felt like everyone in the salon, whether employee or client, was watching Merry. She hurriedly swept up the hair and put everything in order before going to the front of the salon again to retrieve him.
“I hope it’s not a problem I came to you,” he said softly as she took his overcoat from him and hung it on a hook.
“I’d have cut your hair for free because you’re a friend.”
Something crossed his face at her use of the wordfriend. It reminded her of someone accepting a challenge. Merry’s hand took on a definite tremble. What if she made a mess of his haircut now?
“The only difference is that we’d have done it either at my place or my mother’s one evening when you came to pick up Grace. Let’s shampoo your hair first.” That would give her time to settle her nerves.
Merry wrapped the small towel around his neck and had him settle into the chair. He closed his eyes, his face relaxed, more so than she’d ever seen him. Since her salon advertised a scalp massage as a bonus with the shampoo, the sinks weren’t against the wall, and she had easy access to the top and the sides of his head.
She concentrated on the familiarity of wetting his hair and lathering in the shampoo. Merry didn’t make small talk like she normally would; she couldn’t think what to say. Once she’d rinsed his hair of the shampoo and rubbed in the conditioner, she cupped his head in her hands and began the process of working out the knots in his muscles.
How much stress did he place on himself? Did he worry about Grace along with finishing that beacon? Or did it have to do with him and Grace having been in Huckleberry Falls for months now but still not having a home?
A whiff of Carlisle’s aftershave broke through the smell of the conditioner. How could he smell so good this late in the day? And it wasn’t even that expensive cologne he wore sometimes. She’d spent enough time around him now to know it was howhesmelled that appealed to her.
An unexpected sense of intimacy made her soften the pressure of her hands. Standing at his side, Merry massaged from the crown of his head down to his ears, her touch now almost a caress. As she worked her fingers along the base of his hairline toward the back, she leaned closer. Their faces only inches apart, her dream from last night flashed through her mind.
Carlisle popped open his eyes, almost as though he could read her thoughts. His gaze met hers, his eyelids hooded, the blood vessel in his throat pulsing so fast it matched her racing heartbeat. She brought her hands forward and massaged from the back of his jaw toward the front.
His well-shaped mouth drew her gaze. She wanted to press her lips to his, to feel the warmth of his skin on hers, to taste him like she had in the dream.
Carlisle’s breath hitched, jerking Merry from her memory. Her body went hot now for a different reason.
“I want a massage like that one,” old Mr. Pettigrew said, pointing at Merry.
She straightened and glanced around the large room where both stylists and clients were smirking. How embarrassing. She moved to the top of the sink again to finish rinsing.
“Are you planning to live at the bed-and-breakfast for all of your stay in Huckleberry Falls?” Merry forced her voice to sound normal.
“It’s not my intention. No.” His voice came out a little tight.
Had she made him uncomfortable? Now Merry felt doubly ashamed of her behavior.
“Have you and Grace been out house hunting then?”
“I’m afraid not. My busy schedule hasn’t permitted it.”
“Yeah. It’d be hard to set up a house around the holidays anyway.”
Merry finished towel drying his hair and led him to her station. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze, concentrating only on the cut until she’d finished.
“No charge,” she said as she handed him his overcoat.
“Of course, you’ll charge me.”
“I don’t charge friends.”
