Page 10 of Ten

“No one else can figure out the client booking system,” Nisha remarked. “She keeps it just disorganized enough that she’ll always have job security.”

He fucking believed it.

When they reached Nisha’s station, he warily eyed the chair. “I’m not sure I’ll fit.”

“I fit,” she said reassuringly.

He frowned. “You’re also a foot shorter than me.”

“But a foot wider,” she remarked lightly.

“Hardly,” he grumbled, not at all happy that she would put herself down like that. Feeling more confident now that they were alone in her corner of the salon, he lowered his voice so only she would hear. “I meant what I said, Nisha. You’re beautiful. Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow. You’re the hottest fucking woman in this city.”

She gulped with surprise. “Ten.”

He stepped closer than he had ever dared. When she didn’t immediately step back, he took that as a good sign. She wasn’t putting up walls today. She was letting him in, and he was going to go as far as she would let him.

Her perfume tickled his nose, and he wanted to lean in and drag his nose along her neck and pulse points, to scent her like the dirty dog he was. “You smell good.”

She swallowed hard again, and her gaze dropped to his chest. “It’s Lost Cherry.” She finally dared to lift her gaze to his. “Tom Ford.”

He made sure to burn that piece of information into his brain for later use. He locked eyes with her, taking in the dark pools that seemed suddenly hazy. Feeling bold, he admitted, “I didn’t come here just for the haircut.”

“I figured as much.” Her gaze flicked to his mouth and then back to his eyes. “You’ve never been subtle about your interest, even if I don’t understand why a man like you would want anything to do with me.”

“Stop,” he commanded, not wanting to hear any of that nonsense. “Let’s get real, Nisha. You’re my superior in every way. I’m lucky you’re even letting me stand this close.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m considering letting you get even closer.”

His lips twitched with a smile. “How close?”

“I haven’t decided just yet.” She poked his chest with her forefinger and gave him a little shove. “Be a good boy, and we’ll see.”

If ever there was a woman who could drive him to his knees with one little finger, it was Nisha. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Sit.”

He did, but as he’d expected, it was a tight squeeze.

“Okay, I apologize. You were absolutely right. Let’s try the barber chair station.”

He hefted his bulk out of the salon chair and trailed her to a station near the front of the salon. It gave him another chance to study the swing of her full hips and the lush curve of her bottom.

There were only two spots dedicated to men, not surprising considering their clientele was overwhelmingly female. He got comfortable in the chair and caught Nisha furrowing her brow. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never used this thing before so I have no idea how the footrest works. Maybe Billie does? I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve caught her after hours pumping these chairs up all the way and spinning in them like a preschooler on a sugar high.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“To be fair, she’s amazing with kids who come in and are a little nervous. She’s great with Chess’s daughter. They play barber shop and sing songs while they wait and Billie always has a stash of Reese’s cups at the front desk for her.”

Nisha crouched down to examine the chair more closely, and she wobbled on her high heels. She reached out to steady herself, grasping his bare arm. Her grip seared him, and he wished more than anything that she would leave her brand on him. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine.” He fought the urge to place his hand atop hers, to stroke her soft skin. “You okay?”

If she was flustered, she didn’t show it. She rose gracefully and then pressed a lever with her toe. The footrest dropped, and she knocked him out with her smile. “There. Fixed.”

“Thanks.” He missed the heat of her hand on him as she stepped behind him. Her height and the added lift of the high heels meant she didn’t need to adjust the chair. In the mirror, her breasts perfectly framed his head, and he couldn’t help but wonder—.

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