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A crappy mood greets me when I awaken and poor Diogi has to deal with it. I like Tre, but so does Kylie. Having had a baby so young, sometimes I feel like my daughter could be my sister. We have a lot in common, have similar tastes in music, and even fit into each other’s clothes. One of my best friends in high school had a little sister fourteen years her junior so it’s not entirely unusual.
And I keep thinking about Jack.
On my way to the salon, my mother calls and confesses that she stalled at the station so I could meet Jack. Apparently, she and my father have been discussing my love life or lack thereof.
“I don’t need your meddling, Mom!” I admonish her. “And I already told you, I’ve met someone.” She doesn’t need to know the truth right now.
With the spray of glass cleaner in my hand, I’m busy wiping down the mirrors when the bell on the door jingles. Kylie and the other stylists won’t be in for another hour, and I don’t have any appointments this early. I walk past Diogi’s bed and around the brick column, expecting to see the UPS guy making a delivery. “Hello? Can I help you?
Diogi lifts his head and then goes back to sleep.
My eyes round and my heart stops. Standing there, wearing all black, is none other than Jack Perkins. “W-what are you doing here?”
The humor in his eyes matches the smile on his face and grows when he removes the red ball cap. He scratches at his scalp with his fingers, leaving his damp hair wayward and so damn sexy. “I need a haircut.”
“There’s a barber shop down on Willliams Drive. They open at ten. I’m sure they can help you.”
My sharp tone doesn’t deter him from walking in further and glancing around. “There’s no one here,” he states. He drops his big body into a vacant chair and his scent permeates my personal space. “It won’t take long.”
Huffing, I set the rag and cleaner down harder than necessary and catch his reflection in the mirror. With my hands on my hips, I purse my lips. “How do you even know that’s my chair?”
He smirks. “Lucky guess.”
Pulling the drawer open, I remove a fresh cape, snap it open with a sharp crack, and drape it over his body. When I bend to secure it around his thick neck, I hold my breath and avoid inhaling his cologne.
“What do you want?”
His blue gaze darkens. “That’s a loaded question?”
I roll my eyes and hold my sharpened shears, cutting into the air and then point that straight at him.
Unfazed, he angles his head to the left and brushes his knuckles along the longer strands. “Fade with a one on the side.”
“You want to take that much off?”
“Yep.”
“Okay,” I say with a nod, silently wishing he needed me to trim his beard, too, but based on his smooth chin, he’s just shaved.
His eyes follow me when I walk around to grab the spray bottle.
“You need to wash it.”
I flick my eyes up. “It appears you’ve recently showered.”
He fights a smile. “I was in the middle of one when we got a call.”
The image of this man naked, washing his body, is doing crazy things to me.
“It’s a little chilly in here.”
I’m not sure if he’s referring to the temperature that’s slow to heat or my icy reception to his appearance.
“No, it’s not,” I shoot back.
“Really? Then why’d you just shiver?”
