Chapter 16 – Kira #2
His eyes roll impatiently. “Honey, you’ d be surprised where they tuck these little gems away. And Hawt Dawgs? Come on! It’s too easy!”
Before waiting for any further debate from me, Toby whips open the door - which of course, jingles - and darts inside. I’m not even through the threshold before I hear a scream that I can’t tell is delighted or horrified, but unmistakably belongs to my BFF.
In the small foyer, I look either way before I find him to my left, standing in an archway facing a row of styling chairs, each paired with a large mirror surrounded by light bulbs.
“It’s a salon?” I peak around Toby’s frame when I see something move in one of the empty chairs.
“Good girl, Pollyanna.” A woman around my age walks over to whatever is in the stylist chair.
I look bewildered between the girl—who is gorgeous—and what appears to be a Yorkie terrier sitting on a booster seat in the swivel chair.
“And I found the pink gingham ribbon your daddy likes me to put in your hair.”
I don’t know what to look at first or for how long. My eyes zoom between the pretty girl around my age to the other dogs taking up residence in the other salon chairs.
My brain is only just catching up and processing Hawt Dawgs—not a strip club, a doggy spa—when the girl turns to me, bright smile still in position across her face. “Hello,” she greets, with questions in her eyes.
“Pleeease tell me that this is one of those places where people down on their luck come to snuggle puppies!” Toby pleads, and it makes the girl giggle.
“Not exactly,” her hazel eyes warm as she looks up at him before turning. “This is actually a dog grooming business, but…” She turns and scoops up the Yorkie out of the chair before handing her over to Toby’s waiting hands. “You can hold Polly while I tie the ribbon in her hair.”
This is so much new information in such little time. First of all, when Toby is heartbroken and bitter, apparently puppy therapy is just as welcome as swinging appendages. Second, this town has a doggy day spa where the dogs are pampered like humans at a salon. I need to lie down.
“Are you guys new in town?” The cheerleader looks between us with an expectant smile. God, I’d kill for her hair. So thick and luscious, and the color of caramel that hangs down her back in waves with the occasional thin braid woven in.
“I am,” I raise my hand and give her a friendly smile back. “I’m Kira. I’ve been here for two weeks, and this is my friend Toby, he’s just visiting me.”
“Don’t be so sure, honey,” Toby gives me a pointed look as she secures the ribbon around the dogs little Fraggle-Rock ponytail that sprouts from the top of its head, just as a lightbulb seems to go off and she looks up at me with a bright smile.
“You live with my gramma!” She exclaims warmly.
My brain threatens to short out for a second and then I remember. “Oh! You’re Agnes’s granddaughter.” She nods. “Hey, is it okay that I’m staying with her? I’d heard you were going to move in with her?”
She raises a shoulder. “I live just around the corner from my little shop here.” Her voice is just as warm as her smile, and I think she’s got both me and Toby questioning our sexualities.
“And hey, I’m not sure how long you guys plan on sticking around, but if you know of anyone looking to make a little extra cash, I’m looking for help. ”
“You don’t say…” Toby’s eyebrows shoot up and it’s locked in.
Toby isn’t going anywhere. He can do his tech job from anywhere, he has no Jefferey to go back to, and he loves pretty dogs.
In fact, when Hattie is done trimming the ribbon around the dog’s fur, he doesn’t hand her back, but rather nuzzles his face into her freshly cleaned fur.
“Who’s a pretty girl? You are, aren’t you Polly? Yes you are, and you smell so good,” before tucking the dog on his shoulder. “Do you make your own products?” he asks Hattie, switching gears like only he can.
Speaking of gears, I wonder what West is up to…
Hattie is telling Toby that she does in fact make her own soaps and shampoos that are gentle for a dog’s skin as I wander around, taking in the pale green interior that is both calming and gives the place clean lines when the bells above the door jingle again, and I look to see a very attractive, well dressed man who seems to have the same dazzling eyes as Hattie stroll through.
“Is my princess rea - dy?” He stammers slightly when he takes in Toby’s lean frame cuddling the dainty dog on his shoulder.
“Hi…” Toby responds, stunned by what he sees, his eyes scanning up and down. “Is she… yours?” He asks, holding the little lump over to the guy.
“Yeah thanks,” he takes Polly from him but has no reaction to the little dog licking his chin. “I’m Hendrix,” he holds out his free hand.
“My brother,” Hattie clarifies as they shake hands.
I hear a sploosh from somewhere in the back, followed by wet little pitter patters as Hattie turns and her brow furrows in a despondent expression.
“String-bean, nooo,” she scurries off and some instinct to follow her kicks in.
I shuffle across the black and white checkered linoleum to a small room with two wash-basins and a sudsy weiner dog chasing his tail in circles on the floor.
Hattie scoops him up, letting him get soapsuds all over her apron and plunks him back in the tub.
“What did I tell you? Your mommy likes you to soak for at least five minutes, so that your fur comes out wavy and shiny,” she talks lovingly to him as she washes his paws. “Can someone hand me a towel?”
I look around for where she might have one when Toby strolls in, tucking a business card into his shirt pocket.
“Hattie my darling, I have a lot of pressing matters back in Chicago, but they’re just going to have to wait, as I see you’re in a bind.”
“What? Really?” Hattie takes the towel I just found draped over a chair and cuddles it against the dachshund.
“Translation—he digs your brother and wants to hang around here to see if it leads to anything, preferably boning, and taking up the assistant job here will give him a perfect guise,” I shrug as I lean back against the counter and Toby throws his hands down at his sides, fuming at me with gnashed teeth.
“I’ll take it,” Hattie sighs in relief.
“Thanks Buttass,” I cross my arms. “If you’ll recall, I’m the one in need of a job.”
Hattie’s head snaps in my direction, concern etching her beautiful features. God I wish, I could pull off an eyebrow ring. “Oh… I’m sorry, um…”
“Don’t worry about it,” I wave a hand. “I almost blew up Maggie’s this morning. It’s probably for the best.”
“That was you?” I nod. “Well aside from that unfortunate mishap, the biscuits were out of this world!”
My chin dips forward. “Really?”
“Yes,” she says like it’s obvious. “They were the big sell of the day, apparently.”
“Who knew… maybe I’ll try to make some at home. I’ll have Agnes operate the oven for me though, obviously,” I laugh at myself. “Toby, call me when your first day of work is over,” I throw over my shoulder as I turn for the door.
I leave Toby and Hattie to get acquainted, or rather, leave Toby to grill the poor girl about her brother’s dating history and fitness routine.
With nothing better to do, I decide to wander on down to the Crafty Coyote. I’m craving a pint right about now before I head back to Agnes’s house or until Toby runs screaming up the street looking for me.
I open the heavy door and let it close slowly behind me with a long creak. Ah… who knew I’d ever take comfort in the smell of stale beer while Wipe Out plays on the flat screen in the corner. Or Cheyenne’s sour puss greeting me from behind the bar.
“You’re still here,” she mutters as I plop myself on a stool.
“The usual, please,” I smile cheerily to piss her off and she shakes her head as she draws me a pint of BushyTail Ale.
“Would you like my job with that?”
“Eh?” I frown as I reach for the glass she’s sliding toward me.
A shaft of light momentarily intrudes on the dim ambience, cuing me to look up and see the man walking through it.
The heavy wood door closes slowly behind West, whose mechanic shirt is untucked and unbuttoned over some kind of tank top, his hair tucked under a ball cap with a few curls peeking out at the nape of his neck and his blue eyes dead set on me.
He pauses a moment, and then continues his trek in my direction with a relaxed smile.
As he closes in, I feel like a tool as I stare back at him, not sure what’s happening here but not daring to look away.
“Princess,” is his jovial greeting.
“Hey,” I smile up at him casually.
“Plans tonight?”
“Nope, just killing time.”
“IPA, West?” I hear Cheyenne ask from what sounds like some nether region. It’s hard to tell when I’m trapped in a blue trance.
“Yeah, thanks,” he answers, not taking his eyes off mine.
Heaven forbid he break the spell and we just hang out normally.
Not that I’m complaining. Neither is Vaggie Sue.
“For a minute there, I was thinking I won our little game of text tag,” he raises a lazy eyebrow.
“Can I assume that means you’re letting the whole Rolls money thing go? ”
“No, you can assume that this spoiled little princess”—I point both of my own fingers down at myself—“got her cell service cut off from her rich daddy.” I spit out cynically before letting my arms flop down on the bar just in time for my beer to be placed in front of me.
And God bless West for not commenting and simply pressing a warm hand to my back as he accepts his beer. Cheyenne rolls her eyes and walks away, muttering something about how all the good men in this town only go for the newcomers.
“Am I a homewrecker and you didn’t tell me?” I raise an eyebrow at West and he closes his eyes with an annoyed headshake.
“No, that has more to do with Kaleb than it does me. He’s the guy I bought the shop from.”
“Ah.” I rest my head on my hand, and he pins me with those blue orbs.
“Seriously, she’s made her attempts at flirting and that’s it. I go for misfit former rich girls with chestnut hair, and if she’s in a wedding dress, so much the better.”
“Ah…good to know.” Plus it gives me the warm fuzzies.
“You okay?” He asks, getting more comfortable on his stool and turning towards me as he takes a gulp.
“Yeah, actually. I went and got my phone service restored and my best friend is in town for a visit - oh, possibly relocating actually. He surprised me and now he’s helping out at the doggy salon while he tries to bag Hattie’s brother.
I should probably warn her he’s on the rebound,” I hold up a finger in thought.
“And oh, I get to wake up at four in the morning to try working with Bonnie at her espresso stand by the gas station tomorrow.”
West nods along with my word vomit, lips pursed. “Well first of all, I want to meet your best friend before he leaves. And second of all, you’re going to do great, princess. I mean what can go wrong at a coffee hut?”
“Well,” my eyes dart to the ceiling, “we’ve seen what happens when you let me near heat and I do believe making espresso drinks involves steam and hot liquids - get your mind out of the gutter,” I admonish when I see the knowing smirk try to expand on his handsome face.
Boys. “Anyway, I’ve never had anything to do with coffee besides placing my order the snooty cafe in my parents building. ”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t learn,” he tilts his head. “You do have a degree if I recall.”
“Thanks, but you’re just being nice. But really, you barely know me save for the fact I run from weddings, fall into bed with the nearest mechanic and make ovens explode.”
“I know enough to know I want to know more,” he levels me with those eyes.
Like really pins me with his stare making me feel paralyzed in the best way.
He’s serious, and it makes me feel afraid to move or even breathe.
Fortunately he fills the intense energy between us for me.
“So how about you come home with me tonight?”
Finally…something I don’t have to think about.
“West,” I whisper, gently skating my fingertips over the skin of his shoulder which makes him twitch…then jerk…then jump and scream.
“Aggggghhh!”
“Gaahhhhh!!” I scream as West throws his body over top of mine, pinning me to the bed by my wrists.
“I got you mother fucker! Guaaaard!”
I don’t have time to be confused about that last part. My heart is jackhammering in my chest as I squeeze my eyes shut and plead for my life. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Kira?” He pants, his voice exploding with disbelief.
I squint one eye open. “Yeah?” I squeak, as I feel something brush against my leg, it’s warmth fusing through my leggings. Fun fact: West sleeps naked.
“Holy fucking shit,” he blows out a breath and eases his grip on my wrists. “Fuck, are you alright?” He looks me up and down for what, I don’t know - maybe to see if he scared my spirit from my body.
“Yeah, all good,” I try to assure him but I’m pretty sure one could see my heart threatening to explode through his autoshop t-shirt.
“Holy shit, don’t sneak up on a sleeping man like that,” He huffs, shifting himself off of me and collapsing on his pillow facing me.
“Excuse me? I did not sneak. I’ve been here all night and gently woke you like you asked me to when it was time for me to go to work,” I remind him, my voice just a hint reproachful.
He lets out a long breath through his nostrils, I can tell feeling apologetic.
“That’s right,” he husks out, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
“I’m sorry. Come here and cuddle for a minute,” he holds his arm out, inviting me into the warm nook of his shirtless embrace.
If this is his language for apologizing he can fuck up all he wants.
“Just give me a minute to wake up and we’ll get coffee going. ”
I like this, waking up with somebody and feeling so content and secure you actually don’t want to leave the bed. But I have to find a way to make a living and with the coffee hut opening at such an ungodly hour, it’s still dark out and West insisted on driving me over.
After my heartrate slows down however, the events of the last few minutes catch up to me and I prop up, looking down at him.
“West?” My voice is slightly higher than pillow talk volume.
“Hmm?”
“When I woke you up earlier, did you yell something about a guard ?”