Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
As if Delaney didn’t know what chair hers was.
She gave Linda a half-hearted thumbs up on her way past the desk to hang her coat and bag up in the rear hallway with the rest of the employee belongings.
“That’s new, huh?” her boss asked, pointing at her own nose but looking at Delaney’s.
“Yeah, I thought I’d try something.”
Linda grinned big. “It’s cute.”
“Thanks.”
“Jean wanted to take him,” the woman explained on Delaney’s way by again, “but she’s already got somebody in her chair for the next forty-five minutes, so today is your day, Delaney. Mr. Dalton said he didn’t have that kind of time this morning, and you didn’t have anyone booked in your first hour, right?”
“It’s fine. I’ve got him.”
“I’d get him, too, if I didn’t have arthritis in my damn back,” the woman muttered at Delaney’s back.
Or it sure sounded like that’s what she said. Really, Linda just didn’t like to cut hair.
It never failed to amaze Delaney the way women could go completely stupid in the face of a handsome man. It didn’t make much sense to her—maybe because she wasn’t one to let her physical attraction do the thinking and talking for her. The way a person’s body felt shouldn’t determine what their head or heart had to say about someone. Good-looking people—men included—were everywhere. She wouldn’t look like a bumbling fool just because she had to talk to somebody who looked good, either.
“Mr. Dalton?” Delaney asked, coming up behind the man in her chair.
He had a good view of her, and how she barely stood taller than the top of his head, when he glanced up into the reflection of the mirror. His wide, friendly smile showed off straight, white teeth and welcomed her closer so she could distinguish the dark browns of his eyes from the pupils that zeroed in on her.
“How does Lucas sound?” he returned.
Delaney grinned. “I can call you Lucas.”
He made the calls.
“Great. So, you’re the lucky one, then?” he asked.
Delaney arched one eyebrow. “The lucky one?”
“Cutting this mop.”
He gestured to the top of his head where his short crew-cut had grown out just enough to be noticeable. Of course, a bit of pomade could style his hair nicely even at the slightly longer length, but the cut of his blazer and the tightness of the red tie’s knot hanging down from his throat told Delaney he probably didn’t have the personality type to let his hair grow out much at all.
“It doesn’t look anything like a mop, honestly.” She smiled, stepping closer with a hand raised toward his hair. “May I?”
The man waved again. “Go to it.”
She quickly realized he hadn’t been playing with his phone when he sat the small item that had taken up his attention during her arrival to the top of the workstation’s glossy black counter. Her hand flew up to toy with the bottom end of a plain gold cross that hung from a chain around her neck, but as she had become aware that the cross charm became a thing she used to self-soothe, she forced her suddenly trembling hand back down to her sides.
Now wasn’t the time.
Certainly not for the shakes.
The pocket-sized Bible with gold foil lettering on the leatherbound cover almost seemed to mock Delaney from the corner of her eye. She hadn’t seen one like that in years, but she hadn’t opened her own in many more. Not that her lack of study meant she couldn’t recite the damn thing from almost start to finish when hours every night of her childhood had been dedicated to Bible study. Her siblings and cousins had even liked to quiz one another, so they kept a competitive edge in quizzing during Sunday school.
Delaney forced herself to put the Bible out of her mind, so she could do her damn job. Teasing the longer bit of length on the top of Lucas’ head, between her fingers she met his dark gaze in the mirror once again. “Are you just looking to trim it back up?”
“Nothing too scary,” he agreed, winking.
The wink made Delaney glance away to fret with the chair as if she might pump it up higher. Not a chance with the height of him sitting there. She had to do something else, though. She could deal with a man who was attractive, but charm was a different kind of beast, altogether. Men with charm they knew how to use, on the other hand, could make a better woman’s morals waiver at the best of times.
Just not hers.
Usually.
“And no fade,” he added as she placed the leather satchel filled with her sterilized tools onto the workstation. “I don’t need another reason to feel like my head is going to explode. I have enough as it is.”
Okay.
No clippers, then.
“Somebody doesn’t like fades?” she asked, digging through the bag to pull out the items she wanted to use. A comb. Scissors. Thinning shears. She found they helped for people who didn’t immediately like the way the hair laid on their head after a cut. Sometimes, a quick run through with the shears turned someone’s outlook around. “Your wife, maybe?”