Beckett had to close his eyes before they rolled back in his head. All sorts of nerves fired at her every touch. He could swear she made even his toes tingle. “I can’t remember,” he muttered.
Her fingers reached the end of his hair and she didn’t dig them in again. Immediately, his body felt colder, like he’d lost something. The same thing happened yesterday when he woke up to find she’d left the house and didn’t return until right before her early bedtime. She said she’d spent the day attending church with friends. He’d spent the day with a sullen Quinton adopting out a batch of puppies and wondering if he’d messed up a fantastic friendship by kissing his best friend’s little sister—repeatedly.
Quinton hadn’t said a word about what happened at the club, or Daisy, or kissing Daisy, or Vivian, or what happened with the covert glances and shy smiles; therefore, Beckett didn’t either. These weren’t really subjects that could be brought up delicately. Especially since there would be follow-up questions about their relationship status, plans, and intentions. If there were answers to those questions floating out there in the universe, Beckett wasn’t able to grab them.
While he avoided talking about what happened between him and Daisy with Quinton, he would love the chance to discuss it with Daisy. Between sharing a house with Quinton and her filming schedule, they hardly had a moment alone. Not that he would be sleeping on her couch if Quinton weren’t there. That would be much too much of a temptation.
“I think there should be a seamless line between his facial hair and sideburns.” Daisy’s conversation with the barber interrupted his contemplation of the smattering of freckles on her shoulder.
When they’d first arrive on-site, Daisy stood outside the barber shop by the twirling pole thing, praising the establishment and giving a short history lesson on barbers through the ages for her subscribers.
“Though it’s sometimes hard to tell, guys care about the way they look. And when they look good and know it, it’s hard to take your eyes off them,” she’d said.
Beckett thought the same thing about her. She wore a white sundress that draped softly across her curves.
Vivian, the amazing videographer that she was, had the camera on a tripod and caught everything. She hadn’t said much this morning. Come to think of it, she was as quiet as Quinton had been yesterday. Maybe something happened between them—something not so great. Beckett frowned at the thought. Quinton was as close as he came to having a brother; he wanted Quinton to be happy. He’d looked happy sitting next to Vivian at the club.
And Vivian? Vivian was fast becoming friendly—he wanted her to be happy too. His frown deepened and he shifted in his seat trying to dislodge the roots sinking into this city. He wasn’t a roots kind of guy.
“Okay, friends, today is the big day! Since you went above and beyond with your donations, we are doing the beard and the man bun in one episode.” Daisy’s smile was like sunshine; it fed Beckett’s soul. Just imagine what her children would grow to be with that kind of nourishment every day. Beckett’s chest warmed at the thought of Daisy as a mother. He could see her videoing her kid’s first soccer game, her first birthday. But it would be Beckett holding the camera in the hospital as Daisy held their baby in her arms for the first time.
“I think Beckett’s a little nervous.” She laughed lightly. “He’s gone white.”
Indeed, Beckett was lightheaded—not because they were about to shave his beard and his hair, but because he had such a clear picture of Daisy as the mother of his children that he couldn’t deny the beauty, the majesty. He brushed aside the black barber’s cape and reached for her hand. “Hold my hand?”
Daisy’s smile warmed, and he loved that he had the ability to reach into some part of her that her channel didn’t get to. Their skin connected and he relaxed, knowing he was right where he needed to be in that moment.
Chapter Eighteen
Daisy lightly held Beckett’s hand. There was a current running between them, just under the surface. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles, and the same feelings of desire and need that propelled her into his arms the other night threatened to break through.
For a minute there, she thought they’d have to get Beckett a paper bag to breathe into. A man passing out because of a haircut was great footage—the episode would go viral in minutes. But she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of 11 million people by posting him falling out of the chair and face-planting. She wouldn’t do that to him—even if he had passed out. Brittany would have done it. But that was what set the two of them apart, and Daisy was proud of herself for taking the high road with her channel.
Brittany’s latest episode, posted just this morning, was totally clickbait: “How I Lost My Big Butt in 7 Days.” That woman was a size two—she disappeared when she turned sideways. The post was ridiculous, fifteen minutes talking about how she was going to tell them the big secret to her weight loss and reshaping and one minute of demonstrating how to do a simple squat with a tutorial on dry brushing. It was all Daisy could do to get through all seventeen minutes. The post was obviously a drastic move to steal Daisy’s thunder. The FreeWater makeover project had MyHeartChannel’s attention. Vivian sent her a list of channel owners who’d mentioned FreeWater, Beckett, and/or the man bun in recent episodes.
And yet, Brittany’s hearts and likes were through the roof. Which only reinforced Daisy’s belief that there was enough success in the world for everyone.
Beckett increased the pressure on her hand. Daisy blinked at him.
“Are you ready for all this?” Beckett swirled his free hand around his face.
She laughed at his cockiness. “Bring it.” She was saying that she was ready for his makeover, but what she really wanted was for him to bring his face right on over and kiss her ever-loving lips off.
The barber, Vern, motioned for them to drop hands so he could swivel the chair and lay it back. Daisy let go—hating the way she lost something when she lost his touch. That wasn’t really possible. Except that, with Beckett around, she’d felt more like herself.
With efficient movements, Vern worked oils into Beckett’s face.
“What’s that?” Daisy squinted to see the bottle.
“It’s a pre-shave oil. It protects the skin and allows the razor to glide smoothly over the surface.”
That was … a revelation. Perhaps not the one she’d been seeking that would tell her what to do about Beckett and his ultra-talented lips, but a revelation nonetheless.
Daisy widened her eyes and flipped to the camera, checking to make sure the red light was on before she began. “Hi, friends, remember this?” She flourished her hands towards Beckett in the chair. “Well, I learned a fantastic tip for beating razor burn while we were here, and I can’t wait to share it with you.”
She held her smile until Vivian gave her the thumbs-up, indicating that she’d caught the teaser. They’d worked together so long that Vivian would know to store that footage for a later episode. In fact, with the popularity of Beckett’s makeover, she should have been planning spin-off episodes throughout. She mentally kicked herself for missing that opportunity and then turned back to watch the barber at work.
Hot towels, oils, creams, a razor, scissors—Vern had all the tools. His counter rivaled Daisy’s with bottles, brushes, and grooming tools lined up three deep. Vern was in a talkative mood, going over his technique and discussing cowlicks—apparently Beckett had several, including one in his beard.
