erupted down her arms and legs. “Years of practice.”
She stirred, frowning as what he’d said pierced her bubble of contentment. “I think we’re doing fine now. We’ve both had previous practice.”
“Yeah, but tell me it was as good as this.”
It would have been easy to shut him down right then and there, but a lie that huge refused to cross her lips. So, instead of giving him what he wanted, she remained silent.
“Of course, it wasn’t.” He continued stroking her skin, his voice as gentle as his touch. “Chemistry like this doesn’t just come around every day. And you’ve had previous practice , so you know that already.”
He was right, and she hated it. “So?”
If she sounded disgruntled, she didn’t give a damn. He’d gone and killed her post-coital glow, and she wasn’t going to pretend she was happy about it.
“So, imagine having this every day. Any time you wanted.” His voice dropped to a low purr, and he turned his head to look at her.
“Until everything else turns to crap, and the relationship implodes, and we end up hating each other.” Even though she knew it was true, it still depressed the shit out of her. She closed her eyes and sighed.
“It doesn’t have to be that way.” His tone turned cajoling, convincing, and she hated herself for wanting to believe him.
“Has it ever turned out better than that for you before? Of course not, or you wouldn’t be single. I prefer to enjoy this moment right here and not weigh it down with all kinds of worry about which way it has to be or should be. Let’s just leave it at that and not push.” She looked at him again, snared by the compelling light in his green eyes. How he could have any hope left after three broken engagements, she didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to ask. Encouraging him to talk about this would be a stupid thing to do.
“You have to admit though.” He grinned at her. “That. Was. Awesome .”
She laughed, the serious moment passing, and she was grateful. She had a feeling he’d broken the tension on purpose, giving her an out because he knew she couldn’t take more. It was surprising, considerate. Not what she’d expect from such a forceful personality.
“Yeah, it was awesome.”
Chapter Four
The man had the persistence of a rabid terrier. Celia growled and swept up a few stray locks of hair around her cutting chair.
Over the last few weeks, Mason had gotten around her no dating rule by making a habit of showing up at her salon just before closing time. He was also annoyingly good at making himself useful. He’d rewired a dryer that liked to stop for no apparent reason, fixed a clogged sink and generally made her stylists love having him around. When they finished up for the day, he happened to be there to take her to dinner or to talk her into feeding him. It didn’t really matter which option they went with, he inevitably pulled her close, kissed her, stroked his hands over her body. And she was lost. He ended up in her bed every night he wasn’t working at the firehouse.
Which meant that he was due to show up any time, but she’d found a good excuse not to dine with him tonight. She was going to have to cut this off soon, and she ignored the way that depressed her. She sighed and set the broom aside, glancing around at the two other stylists who were cleaning up for the night. Then her gaze took in the rest of the salon, making sure everything was in place. It was, and it looked great—just the way she wanted it. She’d renovated when she’d purchased the building, retaining the feel of the old barbershop inside like she had outside, while updating to the sleek standards of a modern salon. The result was a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll—perfect for Celia.
The bell over the door jingled, and she didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Mason. After three weeks, her body was attuned to him. She glanced back and her heart turned over at the little smile that
She stirred, frowning as what he’d said pierced her bubble of contentment. “I think we’re doing fine now. We’ve both had previous practice.”
“Yeah, but tell me it was as good as this.”
It would have been easy to shut him down right then and there, but a lie that huge refused to cross her lips. So, instead of giving him what he wanted, she remained silent.
“Of course, it wasn’t.” He continued stroking her skin, his voice as gentle as his touch. “Chemistry like this doesn’t just come around every day. And you’ve had previous practice , so you know that already.”
He was right, and she hated it. “So?”
If she sounded disgruntled, she didn’t give a damn. He’d gone and killed her post-coital glow, and she wasn’t going to pretend she was happy about it.
“So, imagine having this every day. Any time you wanted.” His voice dropped to a low purr, and he turned his head to look at her.
“Until everything else turns to crap, and the relationship implodes, and we end up hating each other.” Even though she knew it was true, it still depressed the shit out of her. She closed her eyes and sighed.
“It doesn’t have to be that way.” His tone turned cajoling, convincing, and she hated herself for wanting to believe him.
“Has it ever turned out better than that for you before? Of course not, or you wouldn’t be single. I prefer to enjoy this moment right here and not weigh it down with all kinds of worry about which way it has to be or should be. Let’s just leave it at that and not push.” She looked at him again, snared by the compelling light in his green eyes. How he could have any hope left after three broken engagements, she didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to ask. Encouraging him to talk about this would be a stupid thing to do.
“You have to admit though.” He grinned at her. “That. Was. Awesome .”
She laughed, the serious moment passing, and she was grateful. She had a feeling he’d broken the tension on purpose, giving her an out because he knew she couldn’t take more. It was surprising, considerate. Not what she’d expect from such a forceful personality.
“Yeah, it was awesome.”
Chapter Four
The man had the persistence of a rabid terrier. Celia growled and swept up a few stray locks of hair around her cutting chair.
Over the last few weeks, Mason had gotten around her no dating rule by making a habit of showing up at her salon just before closing time. He was also annoyingly good at making himself useful. He’d rewired a dryer that liked to stop for no apparent reason, fixed a clogged sink and generally made her stylists love having him around. When they finished up for the day, he happened to be there to take her to dinner or to talk her into feeding him. It didn’t really matter which option they went with, he inevitably pulled her close, kissed her, stroked his hands over her body. And she was lost. He ended up in her bed every night he wasn’t working at the firehouse.
Which meant that he was due to show up any time, but she’d found a good excuse not to dine with him tonight. She was going to have to cut this off soon, and she ignored the way that depressed her. She sighed and set the broom aside, glancing around at the two other stylists who were cleaning up for the night. Then her gaze took in the rest of the salon, making sure everything was in place. It was, and it looked great—just the way she wanted it. She’d renovated when she’d purchased the building, retaining the feel of the old barbershop inside like she had outside, while updating to the sleek standards of a modern salon. The result was a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll—perfect for Celia.
The bell over the door jingled, and she didn’t even have to turn around to know it was Mason. After three weeks, her body was attuned to him. She glanced back and her heart turned over at the little smile that
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