Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 87736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I nodded my head and did as he instructed. “Sorry,” I automatically said.
Isaac took the box from my hand, though he had to gently pry it from my grip because I was hanging on to it with both hands.
His eyes skimmed the box for a second, then he lifted them to look at my hair. I knew he’d want an explanation for why I wanted to dye my brown hair blond right now despite the fact that I’d been naturally growing my roots out for a while. Just like he’d want to know why I’d been carrying the blond dye around with me for a long time but hadn’t ever made use of it.
“No,” Isaac said with a shake of his head.
His answer caught me off guard. While I could do the dye by myself, I’d hoped to draw from Isaac’s strength to help me ultimately go through with it.
“Stop that,” Isaac said with a light shove to my shoulder. “I’m not saying no to you, I’m saying no to this cheap crap,” he said as he held up the hair dye. He immediately tossed it into the garbage can and grabbed my hand. His other was already wrapped around his phone. “Lorenzo, it’s Isaac. I need you.”
Isaac tilted his head and rolled his eyes in response to whatever the other person was saying. “Now Lorenzo, you remember what Maddox told you the last time he found out what you wanted to do to me in those fancy salon chairs of yours.” Isaac chuckled and waited a beat before adding, “I’ve got a new customer for you. Can you sneak him in like…now?”
I began to wave my hand at Isaac because the last thing I needed was to spend a couple of hours in what sounded like a wildly inappropriate stylist’s chair in an upscale salon somewhere. I’d been to plenty of those places while I’d been with Marcus. But Isaac ignored me and said his goodbyes to Lorenzo before hanging up.
“Isaac, I really don’t—”
“Yes, you do, and Lorenzo is harmless. His boyfriend used to be some well-known football player… a defensive tuck, I think.”
“A defensive tackle?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s it.” Isaac grabbed my hand and led me from the room even as he typed something on his phone. “Anyway, Lorenzo’s got a thing for being ‘punished’ for being such a flirt, so whenever his boyfriend is around—”
“I get it,” I interrupted. “Will said boyfriend be present today?”
Isaac glanced at his phone. “Oh no, he’ll still be at church in Greenville working on quilts with the ladies’ auxiliary club. They donate the quilts they make to hospitals all over the state. The hospitals put them on the beds of cancer patients, kids, people in hospice care…”
The image of a huge former football player surrounded by a group of little old ladies and sewing machines had me smiling.
Two hours later I was smiling for a whole other reason. Lorenzo, who was exactly like I’d pictured him in my head, and Isaac were standing off to the side so I could take in my new look.
Or rather, my real look.
I could feel tears pricking the backs of my eyes as I considered that I hadn’t seen the man looking back at me in a very long time… not since Marcus had entered my life.
“He’s going to hate this,” I murmured as nerves of fear mixed with nerves of excitement.
A shriek from off to my left had me realizing I’d spoken the words too loud. Lorenzo was babbling something in Italian while Isaac was trying to reassure him my words were a good thing.
“Lorenzo,” I called and held out my hand. “It’s beautiful,” I reassured him as I pulled him closer to the chair. I held his gaze in the mirror and allowed him to see the play of emotions that passed over my face as I took in the glossy blond hair that was rife with natural highlights and lowlights. It matched my natural hair color to a T. “Thank you,” I said softly as I looked at Lorenzo in the mirror. “Thank you,” I repeated more firmly.
Lorenzo was all smiles after that. He talked so fast I had no hope of catching everything about how I was supposed to take care of my hair but when he handed me a bag full of expensive hair products, I figured I’d manage.
It was late afternoon by the time we got back to the sanctuary. Dallas had insisted on driving us and staying the entire time, which admittedly, I’d been pretty relieved about, so I hadn’t protested overly much. I’d exchanged a few texts with Jett throughout the day, but they’d been benign and a little awkward. I hated the immediate doubt that went through me that last night hadn’t meant what I thought it had despite being so certain about it just that morning.