“Maybe it’s the fun part you’re in need of.”
I gave him a soft shake of my head. “It’s a bad idea.”
“I’d make a really good memory.”
Honesty came bleeding free. “Or a really bad one.”
And I didn’t have the time or space for that.
And the last thing I needed was another reason for Reed to go ballistic.
Then another gush of air was being tugged from my lungs when he pushed to standing.
He swiveled around and leaned over me. He fluttered his fingertips down my cheek, the man nothing but fire. “Oh, it’d be a good one. Trust me.”
Cocky, cocky boy.
Why’d I like that about him?
But that didn’t change anything.
“Maybe in another lifetime.”
He blinked a few times as if he were catching up to another rejection, something I was pretty sure the man had probably never experienced before, and then he moved back to my station. He grabbed the same business card he’d returned to me and a pen from the container.
He scribbled something on the back of it, glancing at me as he did. “That’s too bad, considering we only have one life to live.”
He dug into his wallet and pulled out a stack of money.
Frowning, I rushed, “Oh, no, the cut is on me. I’m just grateful you brought my things back.”
His head shook, and he set the stack on top of the card. “I think it’s me who owes all the thanks. I mean, look at me.”
He was all easy smiles when he pointed to his hair that was framing his striking, defined face.
Right.
As if I were even a little bit responsible for all that perfection.
Some things you just had to be born with.
He started to walk away before he paused, cocking a grin at me from over his shoulder that somehow looked like a grimace. As if he’d managed to read something inside me when I’d never wanted him to have the power to peel back the cover. “Watch out for yourself, Grace. If you need to use that number? Use it.”
Then he strode off, disappearing out the arch, taking that energy with him.
I slumped over from the loss of it, hanging onto the back of my chair like I’d forgotten to breathe the entire time he’d been sitting there.
Or maybe the real problem was that I’d been breathing him in the entire time. The man overwhelming. Filling me too full. Full of foolish feelings and foolish ideas.
Because I’d wanted to say yes. I’d wanted to spend a few moments prisoner to those strange eyes, lost to that sensation that swept through me every time he was near.
But it’d be a mistake. I knew it.
It wasn’t as if I were still married. By the grace of God, I’d been granted that small gift. Cutting my legal tie to Reed. For the time being, I was keeping my last name until I was in the position to change the kids’ last name as well because I didn’t want them to feel separated from me.
Once I’d been granted the divorce, things had only escalated with Reed, and I couldn’t risk my judgment being called into question. It wasn’t fair, but that was just the way things were.
With the way he was watching me, I was pretty sure that he knew it, too.
I moved for the stack of money he’d left. I fluttered my thumb through the bills, scowling when I realized he’d left a pile of five twenties.
What on earth was he thinking, leaving me a hundred-dollar tip?
I really hoped he didn’t think I was that kind of easy. Then I picked up the card.
He’d written his name and number on it.
Ian Jacobs.
Ian Jacobs.
I let his name roll around on the tip of my tongue, fidgeting with the card, trying to convince myself to toss it into the trash.
Somehow doing it felt like blasphemy.
I whirled around when the voice hit me from behind. “Um, hello, care to fill me in on whatever was just going down on this side of the salon?”
Quick to toss the card back onto my station, I lifted a careless brow at Melissa and began to sweep up the little waves of brown hair littered around my chair, fighting the urge to pick a lock up and tuck it into my pocket like some kind of weirdo.
“I was giving a haircut. What does it look like I was doing?” I tried to make it come out as if she was the one who’d lost her mind.
“Um . . . that was no haircut. That was foreplay. It’s so hot in here that I’m about to have to go relieve myself in the bathroom.”
My brow knitted. “Are you always so gross?”
“Are you always in denial?” she shot back.
Three months ago, I’d come into Melissa’s salon, ready to beg for a job or to rent a station, even though I hadn’t actually cut hair in eight years, and even then, I hadn’t done it for very long.
But for some reason, I’d always maintained my license. Maybe I’d known all along that I needed that security.
Really, the only thing I needed was an address. A place of employment to put on those forms. Something that would say that I was both working hard and doing my best to make ends meet.
Something that made me look like an upstanding citizen.
Not a thief.
She’d had a station available.
We were about as opposite as opposites could be, but we’d formed some semblance of a friendship after Reed had come in here one day, acting the asshole, trying to back me into a corner. He’d tossed his power and influence all around, as if it was going to sway me, make me forget what I’d seen and the things that he’d done.
The second he’d left, she’d come running over, holding me while I’d tried to stay standing in the wake of his threats.
I gave a small shrug. “It was nothin’. On Saturday night, I lost my wallet and bracelet. He found them and brought them back to me.”
I waved my wrist in front of her face as proof.
She grinned like I was offering her a date with David Beckham, the girl basically salivating at the mouth.
“So, what you’re tellin’ me is the guy who found your things is a bad-boy Chris Pine. Maybe even more delicious, and that shit should not be possible. I mean, did you see him? All posh and suave with those tats peeking out? He’s like a present just begging to be unwrapped. Yes-fucking-please.”
A little jolt of possessiveness nudged at me before I rolled my eyes at Melissa. “Go for it.”
“Hello . . . I wasn’t talking about for myself.” She patted my shoulder. “My girl here obviously needs a little lovin’. When’s the last time you had yourself a nice big O that you didn’t give yourself? It’s just plain sad, especially when that man clearly wants to be the one doing the honors.”
I kept sweeping up that hair, doing my best not to mourn for it as I guided the pile to the stationary vacuum against the wall. “And you’re the one giving advice on the topic when you were the one who was just talking about taking matters into her own hands?”
She wagged a tattooed finger at me. “You know what, you’re right. There are much better alternatives. Leo’s is just around the corner. I’m sure there would be something yummy there to help me out. You could join me or go after Bad Boy Kirk.”
“Neither of those things are an option for me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “And why is it you have to go by jackass’s rules?”
That was what happened when jackasses always had the upper hand.
“You know why.”
Except she didn’t know everything. I’d never put her in that kind of position.
She pushed out a frustrated sigh. “It’s so . . . unfair. It makes me want to scream.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve done plenty of screaming for the both of us. But screaming doesn’t help anything. So, I do the only thing that I can.”
“But he’d never even know,” she all but whined. “This opportunity is too good to waste.”
“Your point is moot, anyway. I don’t even know his name or have any way to contact him.”
She reached around me and snagged the card from my station.
The little snake.
She narrowed her dark eyes in some kind of devious glee. “Liar.”
I groaned. “Give that back.”
She waved it in my face, jumping around, the girl shorter than me by about five inches, wearing her skin-tight black leathers and a corset. I had half a mind just to tackle her.