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She laughed. "Why are straight men so funny about that? When you care for Troy, you don't seem to have the slightest problem touching him."
"It's like being a doctor, caring for a patient. I'm pretty sure my doctor has no fantasies when he's asking me to cough. If he does, I'm switching health care providers."
"That's different, and you know it." She paused, considering. "Troy says it arouses you, dominating anyone, man or woman. It really doesn't matter who, does it?"
"You're fishing. We've had a discussion about that." Reaching back, he caught her wrist, drew her around to his side. "You've started working on my hair, but you're not dressed for it." He gave the white top a meaningful look.
"It's not concealing much as it is," she hedged.
"No, it's not. I approve fervently. Take it off."
The words came with a wash of heat, direct from the cinders in his brown eyes. His grip on her wrist stayed there as her lashes lowered. She heard the slide of his breath, like the sound of steam escaping a dragon's nostrils.
She untied the knot between her breasts. She kept her eyes on the task, because she couldn't hold his gaze when he had that look, or when she was obeying such an astounding command.
Take it off.
She slid out of the shirt, her nipples peaking further in the open air, and draped it on another kitchen chair. Though she kept her gaze down, she could feel the heat of that dangerous dragon as Logan studied her breasts. He was right. With him sitting and her standing, her curves, the jutting nipples, were pretty much there at his eye level. She hoped she didn't mess up his hair because of lack of coordination.
"Are you trying to distract me from discussing my customers' male/male fantasies?" she asked.
"How am I doing?" He tugged the edge of her skirt, a playful move, but then straightened and faced forward so she could proceed. Taking a steadying breath, she freed his hair from the clip, spreading it out on his shoulders. Though his hair was beautiful, she could already imagine how a shorter style would enhance the severe planes of his face, the intensity of those brown eyes. He'd look even more intimidating and tempting at once.
"Buzz cut, right?"
He gave her a sidelong look. "Haven't had one since the military, but I can do that, if it's easiest."
"I think I can give you a little more style than that, never fear." She started combing it out, following the comb with her fingers. When her lingering touch and deeper strokes made him close his eyes, it gave her another idea. After a brief hesitation, she set aside the comb and used both hands to give him a scalp massage. When Madison had cut Alice's hair, as well as their mother's, she'd always done that as part of the process. She definitely wasn't turning down any justification to bury her fingers in Logan's thick mane.
His resulting grunt of approval amused her. Apparently, everyone loved having their head stroked and rubbed, even a big tough guy. Maybe it went back to early memories of a mother's nurturing care. Of course, she seriously doubted Logan harbored any mommy fantasies. Thank God.
Relationship number two, Phineas, should have come with a pacifier and a blankey, since he basically let her take care of everything for him. With a name like Phineas, she should have known he was an overly coddled mama's boy, looking for a replacement.
And yet, she obviously wasn't it, because he left her, too.
Stop it, Madison. You've got a hot male in your kitchen and you're half naked. Why the hell are you dwelling on things that will fuck everything up?
"All right, no male/male fantasies." She cleared her throat, picked the comb back up. "But I am going to tell you all about the mooning and swooning."
"Mooning and swooning? You're exaggerating."
"One woman said every time she goes into your store, she fantasizes about you coming up behind her while she's looking at merchandise. When you reach forward to pluck whatever she's considering off the wall, you step right up against her. And that means other things would be pressed up against her, and she starts moving her hips, and you cup her breasts . . ."
"She did not tell you all of this." He turned his head against the pull of the comb to give her a censorious look. As well as to give her bare breasts another quick appraisal. She tugged his hair.
"You have to keep your head still when I start cutting," she said primly. "Else you really will have that mohawk."
He reached back, felt what she was doing now. "Why are you braiding it?"
"Because the fall is long enough that we can donate it to Locks of Love. That's what Alice and I did when we cut ours. It was all the way to our hips. If it's over a certain length, you can braid it and send it to them, and they'll use it for cancer patients who've lost their hair." Belatedly, she realized she should have found out if he was okay with that, but she needn't have worried. He glanced over his shoulder, giving her a thoughtful look.
"How did you get your customer to tell you her fantasy?"
Uncertain about his shift of topic, she shrugged uncomfortably. "She didn't tell me all that, not at first. I just encouraged her."
Logan snorted. "Figures."
"It increases the rapport, which increases sales," she defended herself. "Alice said people would tell her things they wouldn't even tell their therapist. But it's more than that. It's fun to share. I get as much out of it. You know how much Alice
