Page 29 of Royal Agenda

“Trouble in paradise?” Ryker chuckled. “You have been married for three months.”

“Well, the honeymoon period isn’t what it used to be. She told me to pick up my socks or go back to my own apartment.”

“Oddio!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t know what you said but yeah.” He rubbed his hand across his stubble, filling the air with a scratching noise. “Do you have anything that smells good? She likes honey.”

Ryker glanced over his supplies. He had a small sample of after-shave oil from a place in Virginia. He plucked it off the counter. “We will use this.” He held up the cream-colored bottle with the image of a bee on the front.

“Sounds good.”

Ryker set Carl with a hot towel and prepared his razor. He made short work of shaving his whiskers and then trimmed up his neck, ears, and eyebrows for good measure. He could not leave a gentleman less than his best for his lady love. When he finished, he whipped the cape off of Carl and spun him around to look in the mirror. “You will capture her heart all over again.”

The man looked fifteen years younger–it was the eyebrow trim. Ryker was a firm believer that unruly eyebrows aged a man faster than sun exposure.

Carl turned his chin right and then left. “Looks good. I’ll see you next week.”

That was the biggest compliment Carl had ever given him. He took a moment to look at the sample bottle and then pulled up the website for Sticky & Sweet. They had several products that interested him, so he called the shop directly to place the order.

“Sticky and Sweet; this is Jo. How may I help you?” said a pleasant voice.

Ryker swept as he talked. “I am a barber, and I would like to know if you have a shaving product specifically for a man’s head.”

There was a pause. “We do. One of my husband’s best friends shaves his head almost daily, and we developed a cream specifically for him. The scalp is often sensitive.”

“Esattamente!” Exactly, he exclaimed. “Women’s shaving cream works well enough but daily use can cause irritation.”

She giggled. “I can tell you’re passionate about your work.”

He paused. Cutting hair was not his passion, but he had been taught to give every responsibility his best effort. “Per favore send ten bottles of the shaving cream, and,” he checked the website, “I would like a dozen of the aftershave cream and a dozen of the wrinkle cream. Men should care for their skin, too.”

“Of course. Where would you like them sent?”

He rattled off the number for the credit card he used for barber shop expenses and The Palm’s address.

“Florida!” she exclaimed. “We’ve been talking about expanding to Florida.”

“That would do well for you. There are many dry-skinned people here.” He glanced at the clock. Walt would be here for a trim any moment. “I must go, and you have an order to fulfill, sí? I expect it to arrive in three days, sí?”

“Okay, your highness,” she chuckled, softening the tease. “Thank you, and have a wonderful day.”

He hung up and then nodded. The woman was like his SEAL friends and joked as a way of creating camaraderie. Although he believed she was more refined than his American cohorts. They would just as soon grow Viking beards and long hair if he did not try to keep them presentable. Liam already had the Viking hair going, and Wolfe the beard—a nicely trimmed beard thanks to Ryker, but still. Of course, some of them fought him tooth and nail. One day, they would understand—one day, they would find a woman who would appreciate his efforts.

Walt came through the door, followed by Don and Harry. The three of them had stony faces and intense eyes. The whole energy in the room set Ryker on edge as if he were in a boat in the middle of the ocean and a storm approached.

Nine

“I’m glad to hear that it’s going so well, Celeste.” Grace stood in Grandma’s backyard, watching the waves through a hole in the magnolia bushes. She badly wanted to walk the beach where she could swipe her bare feet through the sand and ground herself. But the sound would drown out the call that was already difficult to hear.

The back door opened and she spun around to see Grandma step onto the patio. She began tidying up the cushions on the outdoor furniture, killing time while waiting for Grace to finish with the phone call. Once again, she was in a tracksuit. The stunning dress they’d bought at the Leather & Lace Bohemian Boutique was stuck in her closet, probably for the rest of time. Grace may have to be content with the fact that she actually got Grandma to try it on in the store.

“I’m over half-way done, and Diego is a huge help,” Celeste gushed. “He’s so kind and quiet. I can’t believe he’s a priest already—he’s only twenty-six.”

Celeste had a note of hero worship harmonizing with two notes of romance in her voice. A non-Catholic priest, thank goodness, Grace thought.

“As your boss, I have to warn you against fraternizing with a coworker. I’m paying Diego for his time on this project, so try to keep it professional.” Diego was, in turn, donating the money to the church fund. He didn’t feel right about keeping it when generations before him had kept the records she cataloged.

“Will do—but I may pay to stay an extra month on my own.” She giggled.

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