Page 18 of His Claim

Greta making margaritas.

Gravel drinking half the margaritas; refer back to then wanting to light a fire.

Meg tapped my leg. “Are we doing this or not?” she asked.

Did I want a streak of purple in my hair? Ten-year-old Tatum was screaming yes, while thirty-six-year-old Tatum was just a bit hesitant. It wasn’t like I had a job that frowned upon colored hair. The bookstore I worked at was so open and accepting of everyone that they probably wouldn’t even bat an eye if I showed up with purple hair.

“Do it,” Lennox cheered. She pointed to her hair. “Meg does my pink for me, and she’s great.”

“See,” Meg bragged, “I totally know what I’m doing.”

“Underneath,” Greta called.

Meg tipped her head to the side. “What the hell is she talking about now?”

The blender whirled for a few seconds and then stopped. “Dye the underneath of her hair.”

“Peek-a-boo,” Lennox cried. “That is a great idea. It’s the in-between of having fun hair and being normal. If you want to see your pretty color, flip your hair around or put it up. Don’t want to see it? Leave it down. I think it’s a great idea.”

I leaned my head back. “I kind of really like that idea.”

Meg clapped her hands together happily. “Excellent. Let me mix up the dye, and we’ll get this show on the road.”

“I still am surprised that you brought your hair dye along,” I laughed.

Meg shrugged and squirted a blob of this and another blob of something else into a plastic bowl. “Lennox had mentioned the other day about her hair needing a refresh, so I grabbed my bag when King said we were heading up here. I also just like to always be prepared.”

Meg mixed up the two globs, and I peered into the bowl. “Uh, that doesn’t look purple.”

“It’ll darken up really quick,” Meg promised. “I’m nowhere near being a scientist, but it’s got something to do with oxidizing.”

“I’m going to take your word on that because I barely passed science in high school.”

Meg circled her finger at me. “Spin around.”

I turned and straddled the toilet. “This okay?” I couldn’t see Meg, but I felt her move behind me.

“Perfect. This is going to go super quick. All I gotta do is section off your hair, and you’ll be peek-a-booing in no time.”

“What do you think Murphy is going to think about your hair?” Lennox asked as Meg combed my hair.

“Uh, well...” I really didn’t know what he was going to think.

Murphy was pretty serious, but that was when it came to his work. Did I think he would ever dye his hair a funky color? Heck no. But I didn’t think he would not like what I was doing.

I think.

“As long as you like it, he’ll like it.” Meg patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry. King loves my hair. Snapper loves Lennox’s hair. And I can tell you for a fact that Cyn loves Rigid’s hair. You’re going to look amazing.”

“I’m not doing this for Murphy,” I blurted. “I’ve always wanted some funky hair, but I’ve never had the guts to do it.” Was this the best time to do it? Probably not, but why not? “And Murphy and I aren’t anything. I literally hadn’t seen him for five years until yesterday.”

“Girl,” Meg drawled. “I believe you, but the way that man was looking at you earlier, you might be something more than what you think.”

I rested my hands on the back of the toilet and sighed. “He wasn’t looking at me in any way. He feels guilty that I got tangled up with all this Brandt business. That’s all you saw.”

“Right,” Lennox laughed. “We’ll just let you believe that for now, sweetie.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to see how he looks at you with purple hair when he gets back.”

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