Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 149(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
11
IVY
The buzz of a dryer filled the salon, steady and soothing after a long day. My last client was running a few minutes late, which gave me a rare pocket of calm. And the chance to scroll through my text thread with Saxon for what was probably the hundredth time.
Saxon
Still thinking about last night.
The message had come in shortly after I woke up, and I’d been smiling ever since. It wasn’t long or poetic, but it didn’t need to be. Just like him, the text was impossible to ignore.
Then there was the banter we’d exchanged throughout the day. I’d been surprised at his easy humor and butterflies had erupted in my stomach when I thought about how I was the only one who seemed to see this side of him.
“You’ve been staring at your phone for five minutes,” Missy called from the front desk. “Should I give you two some privacy or…?”
I rolled my eyes, fighting a grin. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” she singsonged, dragging the words out. “Because I’m pretty sure your face lights up like Times Square every time a certain wide receiver texts you.”
I pointed my comb at her. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Oh, I am.” She flashed me a wicked smile. “I’m rooting for the touchdown.”
I groaned, but the heat creeping up my neck betrayed me. “You’re unbearable.”
“Admit it. You like him.”
I tried for a breezy shrug, but my grin gave me away. “He’s…nice.”
“Nice?” Missy gasped, clutching her chest like I’d committed a crime. “Girl, he looks at you like you hung the damn moon. That’s not nice, that’s smitten.”
Before I could respond, Lorna poked her head out of her office, laughter dancing in her blue eyes. “Is Missy making you blush again, Ivy?”
“Always,” I muttered, busying myself by wiping down my station even though it was already spotless.
“I think it’s the guy more than Missy that’s getting to her,” Gloria drawled from her station.
Lorna smiled knowingly. “With how much time they’ve been spending together, I think she’s earned the right to blush.”
I pretended not to hear her, though the truth was written all over my face. Every text, ride home, and dinner date just pulled me in deeper, not to mention the orgasm he’d given me before he went back into gentleman mode on our first real date.
Catching my reflection in the mirror, with my cheeks flushed and eyes soft, I barely recognized the woman staring back.
The bell over the door jingled, snapping me out of my thoughts. My last client of the day had finally arrived.
She was the kind of customer every stylist dreamed about—sweet, easygoing, talkative enough to fill any silence, and tipped well.
“Sorry I’m late,” Mrs. Parker said, bustling in with her oversized tote and a flustered smile. “Traffic was a nightmare. I swear, I tell myself to leave ten minutes earlier every time I have an appointment, but something always happens to make me late. You’d think I’d learn by now.”
I laughed as she settled into my chair. “It’s fine. You’re my last for the day. No rush.”
“Well, bless you for being so patient.” She caught my gaze in the mirror and wagged a finger. “You’re always so kind, Ivy. It’s why I love coming here. You’re good for my blood pressure.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I teased, draping the cape over her shoulders. “Keeping your heart healthy and your hair looking fantastic.”
She sat back with a laugh. “And you do it so well.”
As I sectioned her hair, she launched into stories about her family. I’d met most of them through photos—kids, grandkids, and a niece getting married this fall. It was the perfect kind of mindless chatter to close out a long week.
“My nephew just broke up with that awful girlfriend,” she was saying. “Good riddance, honestly. She didn’t deserve him. Handsome boy, works in finance, great teeth. You know, I could introduce you.”
I bit back a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I think I’ll pass on the blind date for now.”
“Are you sure, Ivy?” I barely heard her cluck of disappointment over the jingle of the front door. “You’ve never mentioned a boyfriend. Are you single?”
The question hit mid-snip, and I nearly dropped my shears. I opened my mouth, fumbling for a polite answer when the low hum of awareness ran through my veins, giving Saxon away before I even heard his voice.
And when that familiar, deep rumble rolled through the salon, it was enough to make every hair on my arms stand on end.
“No.” Saxon’s tone was firm enough to carry. “She’s mine.”
For one stunned heartbeat, nobody moved.
My client’s eyes went wide in the mirror. “Never mind about my nephew.”
I turned slowly, my pulse pounding so hard it echoed in my ears. Saxon stood just inside the doorway with his gaze locked on me as though I was the only thing in the room.