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I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, that’d be good. You want to just take Avery to the salon with us sometime?”
Winter smiles. “Um, no. I’ll just do it here.”
“What was the smile for?”
She hesitates, then says, “You don’t want to come to the salon, trust me.”
“Why not?”
“Well…Mallory worked part time at the salon before she met you and got sick. That’s how I met her in the first place.”
“Ah. So she told everyone I’m a no good sack of shit?”
Winter smiles sheepishly. “No, she never said anything about you to anyone but me. But I may have said a few things.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “I can only imagine. There’s probably a fucking dartboard hanging up with a picture of my face in the middle of it.”
“I can grab my scissors and do it now since Avery is sleeping.”
I give her a suspicious look. “Are you gonna give me a bad haircut just to amuse yourself?”
She grins and shrugs as she chews her cookie, swallowing before saying, “I like where your head’s at, but no. I’ll do a good job.”
Brushing the crumbs from her fingers, she leaves the room. Nervous energy courses through me as I quickly finish my sandwich. Maybe Winter is finally warming up to me a little bit.
Five minutes later, I’m sitting on a stool in the middle of my kitchen, my hair wet from Winter’s squirt bottle. She’s standing in front of me, holding the comb and scissors she pulled out of a little purple bag that has “Crush the Patriarchy” embroidered on it.
Her tits are maybe eighteen inches from my face. This must be why she offered to cut my hair—so she can tease me about what I can’t have.
“Just a trim?” she asks, combing her hand through my hair.
“Yeah.”
She glances down at me, a smile playing on her lips. “Harry Stone, I do believe I see the beginnings of a bald spot up here.”
“Probably.” I shrug. “I’ll be shaving my head bald before long, I’m sure.”
“No.” She frowns. “Don’t do that.”
“Should I try a comb-over?”
Winter snorts out a laugh. “I’ll shave your eyebrows off in your sleep if you do that.” She makes her first snip, a few dark hairs falling to the floor. “You’ve got a long way to go until it’s visible to anyone not looking at the top of your head. And you’ve got nice hair, so don’t go crazy and shave it all off.”
My lips part with surprise. “Was that…a compliment?”
She smiles. “Get over yourself. I just said you have good hair.”
I’m warm all over from her mentioning something—anything—she likes about me. I get a sudden, strong urge to make her feel the same way.
“You’re amazing with Avery,” I say. “It all just seems to come naturally for you, but I know it’s hard work. We’re lucky to have you…both of us.”
She pauses, the comb and scissors poised above my head, and lowers her eyes to avoid looking at me. I hold in a groan of frustration. I can’t win with this woman.
“That was a compliment,” I tell her. “Why do you look like I just insulted you?”
Her expression clears and she shrugs, focusing her attention on the haircut once more.
“Winter, just tell me. We both know you’re not good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.”
She shakes her head. “I just…I love Avery.”
Tears glisten in her eyes and I furrow my brow in confusion, wondering what I’ve done wrong now.
“I know you do,” I say. “But why is that upsetting you?”
She snips a section of hair and then sighs, her eyes dropping down to meet mine.
“Because it won’t last. This…” She waves a hand around. “…can’t last. Avery will get older and you won’t need as much help. You’ll meet a woman and want her living here instead of me.”
I’ve never lived with a woman before Winter, and I can’t imagine wanting anyone else here. Not only does she hate me, she’s got an opinion about every damn thing down to the thickness of my washcloths, but she’s grown on me in a very big way.
“Don’t worry about that,” I say, fighting the urge to put my hands on her hips and pull her closer.
She nods and pushes an auburn curl out of her face. “I don’t want to worry. I want to just enjoy every day I have with her. But it’s hard because…” She blinks and tears spill onto her cheeks. “I swear I fall more in love with her every single day.”
“Winter, no matter what, you’ll always be in Avery’s life. I promise.”
Seeing her cry sets something off inside me. My hands move on their own and wrap themselves around her waist, pulling her closer. Her breath hitches as I draw her near enough to pick up a clean, powdery scent—the smell of Avery’s baby powder.
