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I swallow, hoping my voice comes out steady. What the hell is wrong with me? How does shaking a woman’s hand turn me into a mindless idiot? I clear my own throat.
“You were right before. I need to get home to Ella tonight. But I can stop by in the morning to get started on a list of supplies. We can discuss the details tomorrow,” I say. “Is 9:00 okay?”
She nods. “Works for me.”
“It’s a date,” I say, unthinking. Before the words are fully out of my mouth, I want to recall them. But it’s too late. She’s looking at me with a weird expression and I can feel my face heating. I open my mouth, unsure what I plan to say, but Harlow beats me to it.
She grins at me. “Not my usual first date, but points for originality.”
The playful statement is enough to break whatever weird tension seems to have popped up between us since that handshake and we both laugh. I dip my head in a nod.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She smiles. “See you.”
Chapter 6
Harlow
What in the actual fuck was that?
It’s the one thought running through my brain over and over. Linc left almost 20 minutes ago, and my heart is still beating too fast. There’s also this weird rolling sensation in my belly like the first dip on a roller coaster every time I remember that handshake. A handshake, for god’s sake. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s not like I’m twelve and hoping he’ll ask me to the middle school dance. Been there, done that. I’m almost 30 years old now. And nowhere near that innocent. So, why did that brief touch send me into a tailspin?
Because it’s Linc, I tell myself. It’s the one guy you’ve always wished would notice you. Today’s conversation was probably the longest I’ve ever had with him, just the two of us. We’ve hung out in group settings with his brother and Piper and Luke. Layna has even joined us on occasion. But it’s always been at Peach Fuzz. Always in a crowded room with dozens of other people. Not once, in all the years I’ve known Linc, have we spent any time alone together. The second Luke and Piper left us, it was like the air had become charged with electricity. Had Linc felt that too? Or am I a crazy person who’s just imagining something that doesn’t exist after almost 2 decades of obsessing over the same boy?
“Get it together, Harlow,” I mutter to the empty shop.
Great. Now I’m talking to myself. I need to stop obsessing over Lincoln Prescott. There’s never been anything between us and there never will be. He’s just being a nice guy. He’s always been that way, always ready to lend a helping hand. I’d be stupid to try and read anything more into that.
I look around at the empty salon. While the water might be gone, the floors are a mess of dirty footprints. With a sigh, I get to work mopping them. By the time I’m finished, it’s fully dark outside. My back and shoulders are sore and there’s a dull headache forming behind my eyes. But I feel better now that everything is clean. I turn to look at the two sinks, taking in the broken pipe beneath one of them. Technically, I can work with one sink for a while. It’s not the end of the world.
I try to ignore the small voice telling me that this is just the beginning. This building is old and has needed major updates since well before I bought it. The broken pipe is probably just the first of many things that might go wrong. Not to mention the wiring. I’d had so many plans for this space when I’d first bought it. I’d planned to update the sinks and the chairs. Not to mention the cabinets. The only thing I’ve managed in the past few years is new paint. I thought I’d have more time before I’d be forced to make the improvements. I know what Linc and I discussed, but I wonder if I should just face the fact that this place needs more than I’ve been giving it.
I know what’s in my savings account, down to the cent. I’ve been saving since I purchased the building 4 years ago. I’d planned to use it to buy a house, but now I wonder if that’s going to be possible. I reach for my phone and pull up the listing for the house I’ve had my eye on for years. It’s a bit too large for one person, but I know in my heart it’s supposed to be mine. It’s also slightly out of my price range, hence the years of saving. I scroll through the listing photos, feeling a pang of regret for what I know I need to do. What good is buying a house if my business falls apart around me? My focus needs to be on getting this place in shape. Then I can worry about how to buy my dream house. I just hope the house doesn’t sell again before I can find a way to buy it.
Closing the tab, I pull up the wish list I made for the salon when I bought it 4 years ago. I’ve updated it regularly each time I’ve found something that’s perfect for the space. I have the exact sinks and faucets I want, along with the chairs. I know what each item costs and there’s a running total at the bottom of the list. I know exactly what it will take to buy the items I need. What I don’t know is how much I'll need to spend to have them installed. But I know someone who does.
Chapter 7
Harlow
I wake up early the next morning after a fitful night’s sleep. After Linc left last night, I’d spent nearly 2 hours scrubbing the floors in the shop and airing out anything that had gotten wet. Luckily, nothing seems to be permanently damaged besides the pipes themselves. Along with whatever is happening with the wiring in the building.
I try not to think about everything that’s wrong and focus on getting ready for Linc’s arrival. Now that I’ve decided to renovate the building, I need to find a way to talk to Linc about it. I want to see if hiring his company is an option. I know he’s been busy lately. He’s even had to hire more people onto his crew. He may not have time to fit my shop into his schedule. But I trust him to do a good job and to give me a fair price. I don’t delve too deeply into my reasons for trusting Linc when technically, I barely know him. It has nothing to do with my silly childhood crush. That would be ridiculous.
By the time Linc arrives, promptly at 9am, I’m a walking ball of nerves. I don’t know if it’s the thought of seeing him again, one-on-one; or if it’s the worry over what this endeavor will cost me. Either way, I have knots in my stomach as I watch him walking toward my front door from his truck. He’s wearing a pair of light wash jeans that fit him entirely too well and a dark gray Henley that shows off his muscled forearms. His long hair is pulled back off his face and my hands practically itch to touch it. A shiver runs through me, and I swear I feel myself grow wet just from looking at him. This is going to be a long morning. Doing my best to ignore the flutters in my belly—and lower—I paste on a smile and open the door to let Linc inside.
“Good morning,” I say. “I hope I’m not messing up your Sunday?”
He shakes his head. “This shouldn’t take too long. Ella and I have plans to have lunch and ice cream later. But she’s with Cole now.”
I nod. “Ice cream is always a good call.”
He grins, setting off more of those stupid flutters inside me. “Ella thinks it was her idea and that she’s pulling one over on me,” he says as he walks toward the sink in the back. “But the joke is on her because I’ve been craving one of those massive sundaes from Judy’s all week.”
I laugh. “They make the best sundaes in town.”
“Damned right, they do,” Linc says with a nod. “Alright, let’s take a look at what I’m working with.” He walks toward the back of the salon where the two sinks are located, talking as he goes.
