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“I think Colin means adults at his work, honey,” I say, and Colin latches on to my statement with a vigorous nod.
“Exactly. My office is serious.”
Somehow, I manage to keep from rolling my eyes.
“What do you do for work?” Bailey takes a sip of her cocoa, continuing the inquisition.
“I work in tech,” he says.
“Computers?”
“Mm-hmm,” he nods, then launches into an explanation of his job, clearly more comfortable on familiar ground. Bailey peppers him with questions and answers some of his own. I sit there, mostly quiet, feeling strung out. As the minutes pass I relax slightly, grateful that Bailey seems to be handling this well.
Still, when we take our leave and head back home, I let out a long, relieved breath. Bailey threads her fingers through mine, the Barbie doll dangling from her other hand. She studies me while I unlock the barbershop door.
“What’s going on in that blond head of yours, Bailey?” I ask, mostly to divert her from saying something too perceptive about my own state of mind. “What did you think of him?”
“He’s okay. The doll is stupid.”
A chuckle falls from my lips. “It was nice of him to get you a present.”
Bailey doesn’t look convinced. She drops the doll on an end table in our living room as soon as we walk in, then walks to her room and closes the door. I want to follow her, but I resist the urge. She must need time to think, to process things however a nine-year-old processes. I know her well enough to realize she’ll come out when she’s ready to talk.
I end up walking through to the barbershop, leaving the connecting door open in case she needs me. I start cleaning, just to do something with my body. There’s too much energy coiled in my muscles, too many jangled nerves ringing off-key inside me.
When I’m sweeping my pristine floor for the third time, a gentle knock taps the glass door. I look up to see Des outside the barbershop, a questioning look in his eyes.
Relief sweeps through me, so intense I nearly stagger. I hurry to the door and unlock it to let him in.
“I called,” he says, hovering just outside the door. “You didn’t answer, so I thought I’d stop by.”
“My phone is in my purse,” I explain, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder toward the apartment. “Come in.”
He enters, his presence filling the space from wall to wall. Suddenly, I know everything will be okay. Before I can stop myself, my arms wrap around his waist and I bury my head in his broad chest, inhaling deeply.
He hesitates, then curls his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. I nearly start crying, it feels so good.
Part of me knows it’s dangerous to feel this way about someone. My feelings for this man are growing so quickly that I can hardly identify them, let alone come to terms with them. And what if I’m using him for support just because Colin’s here, making me feel off-balance? What if my feelings aren’t even real?
What if he leaves like he said he would?
“How did it go?” Des’s deep voice rumbles above me, sending little thrills through my body. His hand sweeps over my back, soothing.
“Pretty good, considering,” I answer, soaking in the comfort for another second before pulling away. I touch his jaw. “You need a shave.”
His eyes smile without any other part of his face moving. “You offering?”
“Sit down, big guy.”
I’m on safer ground when Des sits in the barber’s chair, and I go through the familiar motions of readying myself to give a clean shave. The cape slides over his shoulders. My tools are lined up. I prep his skin and get the shaving cream lathered.
The ritual centers me, and when I finish shaving him, I feel like myself again. I smile at Des after removing the cape from around his neck, loving the way his hand coasts down my side.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
For being here. For caring. For letting me lean on you.
