Chapter 3
Iwalked into the small diner in Lomand and sat on one of the barstools. The place was busy, but my favorite waitress, Donna, came over, pouring me a cup of coffee. “The usual?” she asked.
“Please.”
I sipped my coffee, contemplating what to do with my day off. I had no errands to run today or things to be handled. I was only taking the day because Maxx insisted. I’d prefer to be at the garage, but I was informed I had to take my time away. Although Chase and I had picked out his building materials, we were in a holding pattern until the supplies came in. He’d been in a far better mood the past while, and I assumed it had a lot to do with his progressing relationship with Hannah. Chase didn’t say much, but his smiles and demeanor said it all for him.
I was happy for the kid. He deserved it.
I was brought out of my musings by a voice murmuring my name. I glanced up, surprised to see Hannah Gallagher. Chase’s girl. She was dressed in her uniform, her bright-red hair pulled back from her face, but she was smiling.
“Hannah,” I greeted her, standing and dropping a kiss to her cheek. “How is my favorite officer this morning?”
She laughed. “Good, Dom. You?”
“Never better.”
Donna slid my bagel on the counter. “Morning, Hannah. Coffee?”
I grabbed the chance. “Sit with me for a few minutes.”
Hannah looked pleased. “Sure. I’m on my break. Coffee and a bagel too, Donna.”
“Coming right up.”
We moved to a booth, and she slid in across from me. “Not working today?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Maxx is making me take a day off.”
She sipped her coffee. “Chase says you’re the hardest worker he knows.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I like to stay busy. Still finding my place here, so being at the garage fills the time.”
Donna appeared with Hannah’s bagel, and we added cream cheese and ate for a moment.
“How, ah, is your mom?” I asked.
Hannah grinned. “Good. Busy at the salon. I spoke with her last night.”
“She must miss you.”
“Yes. I miss her too.”
I cleared my throat. “She’s not seeing anyone?” I let the question hang in the air.
“No.” Hannah bit into her bagel, chewing as she regarded me thoughtfully. “She doesn’t date much.”
“A beautiful woman like her should.”
She grinned again. “You think my mom is beautiful?”
“Absolutely.” I paused. “In fact, I’d like to take her out, Hannah. Would you be okay with that?”
“Not my decision, but I’d have no problem with it,” she responded. “Mom is really independent, Dom. Stubborn.”
“I figured that much. I liked that about her.”
“She’s never been into casual relationships.”
I met her gaze, seeing the questions in her eyes.
“Neither am I.”
“You live an hour away.”
“So did Rosa and Mack. They made it work.”
She studied me as she finished her bagel, wiping her fingers. “She is…” She trailed off, looking for the right word.
“Skittish,” I finished for her. I had a feeling there was a story there, but I wasn’t going to ask Hannah. I wanted to hear it from Cherry.
“Yes.” She paused. “She thinks you’re a love-them-and-leave-them type.”
I chuckled. “In my youth, maybe—a long time ago. People change. I want to get to know her.”
“To what end?” she asked.
“That will be a decision for the two of us.” I took a sip of coffee. “If I can convince her to go on a date first.” I lifted my eyebrows. “But I need to get her number.”
Hannah finished her breakfast, wiping her mouth. She stood, placing her hat back on her head. “Mom works at the Right Angle on Kingston. She takes walk-ins.” She eyed me with a grin. “You look a little scruffy, Dom. Maybe a trim would help. You have the day off after all.”
Then with a grin, she bent and kissed my cheek. “She might give you her number herself.”
I watched her leave with a smile, finishing my coffee.
My day suddenly had a purpose.
And its name was Cherry Gallagher.
I was folding towels when I heard the giggles. I rolled my eyes, picking up another towel. I was getting too old for this. The staff got younger and younger. I felt more ancient every day. It was a lovely little salon, and I had a steady clientele I had brought with me from my old place. The owner had her regulars, but the new staff was building their own customer bases.
The salon was steady for a Wednesday. Not crazy, but okay. There had been a few walk-ins, and the girls had been eyeing up some of the younger clients. Listening to their comments at times made me wish I had earplugs.
“Oh my gawd…” Janey stage-whispered as they came to the back. “So haaaawt for an old guy.”
“I’d do him,” Lana responded. “He could be my daddy anytime.”
“Girls,” I hissed. “Stop it.”
They looked at me, not caring. “You have a walk-in. I put him at your station,” Lana said.
I frowned. “I’m not taking walk-ins today. They’re for you girls.”
“He asked for you.” She leaned close. “He is so intense.”
Janey fanned herself. “Those eyes. So dark and dreamy.”
I frowned, a small tremor starting in my stomach. I hadn’t given my card out lately. Why would a walk-in ask for me directly?
Unless it was someone I knew.
Intense. Dark eyes.
It couldn’t be.
I fluffed my hair and peeked in the mirror to make sure my apron was on properly and I had no lipstick on my teeth. I straightened my shoulders and headed out front.
I met those dark, intense eyes in the mirror as I approached. The way he watched me sent shivers down my spine. It was as if I was the only person in the room. The world.
“Mr. Salvatore.”
He grinned, his white teeth flashing in amusement. “Cherry G.”
“What are you doing here?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I was informed I was scruffy. I thought you could help with that.”
I stood behind him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Are there no barbers in Lomand?”
“Not pretty ones like you.” His gaze became heated. “I want your hands on me, Cherry. Not a stranger’s.”
A thrill ran through me at his words. The truth was I had wanted to touch his hair the moment I met him. Run my fingers through his thick locks and see if they were as soft as they looked. I wanted to touch him.
“And your scruff?” I asked, hating how thick my voice sounded.
He ran a hand along his chin. “Do what you want with me,” he said quietly. “I’m yours.”
The tremor in my stomach became a full-blown earthquake at his words. I had to fist my hands at my sides to stop the tremble in them. I swallowed hard, squaring my shoulders. “Well, let’s get you shampooed, then.”
He followed me to the sinks. I waved off the girls, both of them eager to be the one to wash his hair.
I wasn’t sharing. Not today.
I got him settled, trying to ignore the way he stared at me. It was constant, his eyes never leaving me. I could feel the heat of them with every movement. I had to shut my eyes and draw in a deep breath, trying to find my equilibrium. I had a feeling, with Dom Salvatore, that was going to be hard to come by.
Washing his hair was an intimate experience—something I didn’t expect. As I leaned over him, his scent drifted up through the heat of the water. Masculine. Heady. He sighed as I began to shampoo his hair, the strands as soft as I’d thought they would be under my fingers. His eyes fluttered shut as I massaged his scalp, a small groan of pleasure escaping from his mouth. As I leaned over to grab a comb, my breasts pressed into his face, and I swore we both whimpered. My nipples felt tight and hard under the layers of my clothing, yet I swore I felt his heat burn right through the fabric. Being this close to him, I felt the ache between my thighs. One I had long forgotten about. I had to fight off the urge to climb onto his lap and kiss the hell out of him.
The girls would have a field day with that visual.
Finally, I finished, wrapping his head in a towel and stepping back. “You can sit up now. Follow me.”
He blew out a long breath, opening his eyes, the stark desire and passion in them taking my breath away. “I’ll follow you anywhere, woman.”
Flustered, I glanced away, my gaze falling on his lap. I wasn’t the only one affected. His thick jeans held a bulge that both promised and threatened. It was all I could do not to groan at the sight of it. Instead, I averted my eyes. “This way,” I said briskly.
He chuckled as he followed. No doubt my cheeks were on fire and he knew exactly what I had seen.
I draped a cape over him. Normally, I would chat with a client. Especially new ones. Draw them out and establish a rapport, hoping to gain a repeat customer. With Dom, my words had dried up. It was all I could do to concentrate on his hair, trimming his scruff. Aside from a few murmured questions and responses, we were silent.
But the tension between us was palpable. He watched me. Every move. Every time I looked up, his eyes were on me. I saw the way his hands clutched at the arms of the chair as if he was stopping himself from touching me.
And I ached for him to do so.
But I tamped everything down. Snipped and combed. Shaped and cut. I used my clippers on his scruff, trying not to show any reaction as I touched his face. His skin. I jumped a little as he gripped my hip. “Keeping you steady,” he said.
His touch only made the flame inside me burn brighter. I felt it everywhere.
I blew his hair dry, using the lowest setting, enjoying the feel of his hair. That was the only time he shut his eyes, and I knew he was enjoying it. His shoulders relaxed, and a smile played on his full mouth.
I wanted to kiss that mouth.
I stepped back, shutting off the dryer and giving his hair a final comb-through. “All done.”
He opened his eyes, and I held up a mirror so he could see the back. “Looks great,” he praised. “Best haircut I’ve ever had.”
I tried not to laugh at his low muttering that followed. “Most stimulating as well.”
He followed me to the front, and I gave him the total. He dug into his pocket, handing me too much money. I shook my head, and he frowned.
“Your tip. For excellent work.” Before I could protest, he smiled. “Now I’ll take you to lunch.”
“Um, no. I have another client coming in.”
He shook his head. “According to the screen behind you, you’re free for another hour. Lunch, Cherry G. I’m going to feed you.”
“No, I, ah, I have other things I have to do.”
The salon owner came over, looking between us. “Problem?” she asked.
Dom smiled at her. Charming. Friendly. “I want to take my girl here to lunch, but she seems to think she can’t leave.”
His girl?I opened my mouth to protest, but Connie cut me off, looking at me as if I were crazy. “Go to lunch with your man, Cherry. The girls can finish the towels.” She held out her hand. “I’m Connie.”
Dom smiled again, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing it. “Thanks, Connie. Pleasure to meet you. I’ll have her back in time for her next client. I hardly get to see her, so any time I can grab is awesome.”
Connie blushed. Actually blushed. “Oh, take your time. Mrs. Jenkins likes a cup of coffee before her appointment. I’ll chat with her, and Janey can wash her hair. That’ll give you two lovebirds some extra time.” She nudged me. “You can fill me in later.” She winked and walked away before I could inform her I wasn’t his girl or a lovebird. I turned to Dom, glaring.
He grinned. “Come on, Cherry G.” He wiped his bottom lip. “I’m starving.”
“I’ll get my purse,” I muttered through tight lips as I tugged my apron over my head.
“No need. Lunch is on me.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
I felt every eye on me. Inquisitiveness was rife in the air, and I knew I’d be bombarded with questions when I got back.
“Fine.”
And despite being annoyed with him, I couldn’t dismiss the fact that my hand felt right wrapped up in his.
Which only made me angrier.