GRACE
“Oh, I just love it!” My long-time client, Joyce, beamed in the mirror after I finished her cut the next afternoon.
“I’m glad.” I smiled, my typical pleasure at seeing a client so happy dimmed as all my emotions had been since I’d left the hospital three days before.
“This is for you, honey.” She smiled, pressing a tip into my palm. “Go out and have some fun. You are far too beautiful to be moping over whomever put that frown there.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied in surprise, realizing how obvious my plight must be if even Joyce noticed.
I set to cleaning up my station, both glad I was done for the day and dreading going home.
“I’m out of here.” I waved in parting to Shannon and Dax, who were both finishing up with their last clients of the day.
As I made my way for the door, my purse over my shoulder, I was relieved that Valerie was in the back somewhere and not here to rip into me for something I hadn’t done.
But it wasn’t Valerie that had me stopping in my tracks.
“Grace.” Elliot’s voice had me rolling my eyes as I looked over my shoulder, my hand on the door. So close.
“Yeah, hi,” I greeted Valerie’s son dully. I hadn’t seen him in a few days and had hoped he’d finally given up his pursuit.
“You look good,” he replied, his lingering gaze making my skin crawl.
“Is there something you needed?” I prompted impatiently as I pushed through the door and out into the evening air.
“Have dinner with me,” he replied as he strode alongside me.
“Elliot, we’ve been over this.” I sighed in frustration.
He grabbed my elbow, trying to slow my progress as I turned the corner to where my car was parked behind the building.
“Hands off,” an all too familiar voice growled with ferocious intent.
My gaze whipped up to find Ruston leaning against his Harley, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his eyes narrowed on Elliot.
I pulled my elbow from Elliot’s hand, glaring at him. “I’ve told you I’m not interested,” I repeated. “Leave me alone.”
Ruston shoved off his bike, stalking in our direction. You’d never know from the sheer power he exuded that he’d just been in the hospital.
He guided me behind his large frame, stooping to meet Elliot at eye level. “My woman just told you to leave her alone. We gonna have a problem? Because gotta tell you, watching you put your hands on her has me hoping we do.”
“No, we don’t,” Elliot bit out, giving me one last look before turning on a heel and stalking back toward the salon.
Ruston remained in front of me, standing sentry, until Elliot disappeared from sight.
When he turned to face me, every iota of his attention trained on me, I was unprepared for it, for him. “Who the fuck is that asshole?” he demanded.
Clad in a black tee stretched over his broad chest and jeans that molded to his muscular thighs, with his dark blond hair overlong and begging me to run my fingers through it, he was a lot to take in.
He was so close as he peered down at me, I could practically feel the warmth radiating from him. I had to take a step back in the futile hope of trying to think straight. “The salon owner’s son.”
“He put his hands on you before?”
I shook my head. “Just asked me out a few times. Doesn’t seem to like that I keep saying no. His mother doesn’t either,” I grumbled. “What are you doing here?” I asked before he had a chance to respond.
He cocked his head to the side, his jaw visibly ticking. “What am I doing here?” he demanded, his voice low. “You ran out on me. When I couldn’t fucking chase you,” he snarled.
“You have a girlfriend,” I hissed in hurt and outrage.
