“Don’t worry, Greyson. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
He took her into the main bathroom on the second floor and found the kit his mother had always used when she clipped his hair. His family started out as any struggling family with low paying jobs and parents who did their best to care for their three children. His mother had also been a beautician. Although now she enjoyed dressing in the latest fashion, driving nice cars, and living in luxurious homes, she couldn’t put aside her love for cutting hair.
Whitney’s gaze narrowed on the scissors and cape that was inside the kit. “Why would you have these in your house?”
He smiled. “Because I make sure my homes are equipped with everything.”
The look on her face let Zack know she didn’t believe him. He laughed, but didn’t say anything as he pulled the stool out from one of the cabinets and placed it in the middle of the floor and sat. She draped the cape around him and fastened it at his neck. The spray bottle was easy to find, and she squirted his hair until it was wet and stringy.
Just as she lifted the scissors to begin, he reached up and grasped her wrist, stopping her. Their gazes met through the mirror’s reflection.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked her.
“Trust me, please. This next little while being together is going to seem like eternity if we can’t trust each other.”
“True.” He sighed. “Exactly how short are you going to cut it?”
“You’ll have a half-inch to an inch around your head.”
“That short?” He whined.
“Yes,thatshort.” She sighed. “Zack, your appearance needs to change dramatically.”
“Yeah, I know,” he grumbled.
He released her, and she went to work. He watched her closely through the mirror, and so far, she knew what she was doing. And... she acted as though she enjoyed every minute. Just as his mother had whenever she cut his hair.
Closing his eyes, he relaxed as Whitney’s fingers moved through his hair. The soft way she touched him had begun to put him under a spell. He enjoyed the tender way she bumped against him. She still smelled like berries – a scent he was quickly getting used to. A fragrance he enjoyed more and more, in fact.
Slowly, she walked around him as she cut his hair, but when she stood directly in front of him, his heartbeat quickened. He opened his eyes to see how close she was.Too close!She had somehow maneuvered herself between his opened legs. Maybe he shouldn’t have straddled the stool so much.
He studied her baggy shirt, and especially the opening at her throat. She had a slender neck and flawless skin, from what he could see. The urge to press his lips against that spot just to see how smooth her skin was, became overpowering. He’d always liked kissing a woman’s neck – among other places, of course. Whether it was the way the woman trembled when his mouth moved over her throat, or if it was the pleasant fragrance coming from her, he didn’t know. He just enjoyed that spot and making them melt in his arms.
Thank goodness his hands were underneath the cape or else he would slide them to her waist and pull her closer...
Greyson, snap out of it!Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on regulating his uneven breathing. Maybe if he acted like he was falling asleep and just let his face drop forward...
“There. What do you think?” Whitney asked as she stepped back.
He opened his eyes, but didn’t look at his reflection. Instead, he looked at her face. Her happy expression brightened the color of her skin and made her eyes an enchanting forest green that sparkled like gems.
Her gaze skimmed over his hair as a smile of satisfaction spread across her face. He moved his attention toward the mirror to assess the results. It only took him a moment to adjust to the shortness, but then he realized he looked good with short hair.
Nodding, he scratched his chin as a day’s growth of dark whiskers shadowed his skin. She’d wanted him to grow a beard, too. He could probably do that.
“I like it,” he told her as his focus jumped back to her eyes through the mirror. “Should we do you next?”
The look of satisfaction disappeared from her features as her body stiffened. “You want to cut my hair?”
“Of course not.” He pulled off the cape as he stood. “But I do plan on doing something with your hair.” He pointed to the stool. “Sit.”
Warily, she sat, watching him closely.
“The first thing we’re going to do,” he said walking behind her, “is to get rid of this ponytail.”
He gently tugged the band holding her hair together. Taking the squirt bottle, he used it to dampen her hair. Immediately, he could see there was a slight wave to the texture. He handed her the bottle before carefully threading his fingers through her hair, keeping close attention to her reaction.
Her breathing turned ragged, and he grinned. This had been his reaction when she’d threaded her fingers through his hair. And when her eye color softened, and her shoulders relaxed, he thought she looked beautiful.
