hairdresser.”
The blonde smiled at him. “You’re staying with the Lawson’s, right?”
“Yep.” The blonde was gorgeous, no doubt about it, but his mind was on another woman. “How will I know Bree when I see her?’
Shit, that hadn’t come out right. Subtle as a bus arse-ending a motorbike.
“You don’t know what Bree looks like?” The older woman studied him.
He’d have thought that was obvious. Too late to back down now. “I’m afraid not.”
“Huh. Well, she’s at the hairdresser. Ask there for her.”
The blonde smiled, edging closer, one slim hand on the trolley handle. “I’m Felicity.”
“Hi. I’m Nick.” He gave them all a sweeping smile. “Thanks ladies.”
He made his escape, waiting impatiently at the checkout while the man ahead of him put his groceries through before Nick was finally through, the toothbrush in a small plastic bag dangling from his hand.
Out on the sidewalk, he started for the hairdresser, only to pull up short.
Hang on. Bree was at the hairdresser, maybe had those curler things in her hair, goop all over it. Barging in there and trying to make her happy to see him when she was sitting there with all that shit in or on her hair wasn’t the wisest thing to do.
Crap .
Maybe she was just getting a trim or something. That meant those steel peg things holding up chunks of hair, not a good look. Not that he’d give a flying fig, but it wasn’t going to win her over.
Shit and double shit . Nick frowned at the front of the hairdressers shop. Now what? Retreat? Forge on? No, he wasn’t that stupid. He’d been around women for years, he wasn’t a novice to their way of thinking. Certainly no expert, because who the hell would ever fully understand the apparently gentler of the human species? Get them riled up and they’d get you, either through stealth or straight on attack, and they could leave a nasty sting.
He didn’t think Bree would be like that, her letters hadn’t hinted at anything nasty, but one never knew. This was still uncharted territory.
Okay, ease back, Nic k. You haven’t thought this completely through. Uncharted territory required a bit of recon. He had time, all he had to do was be in town, work, keep his ear to the ground, and he’d soon find out who Bree was and where she worked.
Yeah, he just had to ease up on the throttle. He was here for seven weeks more yet, though he’d planned to check out some other towns in-between to give Alex and Harly time alone, but still, he would be here most of the time. Barging around like a bull in a china shop just wasn’t the way to do it. He could very well end up embarrassing himself and his friends.
Damn good sense. Even though he knew he was thinking correctly, he couldn’t help but be annoyed, not able to quite tamp down the impatience at waiting. Personally, he preferred the upfront directive - walk in, ask who Bree was, introduce himself and talk. This tip-toeing around was crap.
But he’d do it. Sighing, Nick started for the café. Damn it, he’d be subtle. Dumb arse.
Determined to remain calm and directed, Nick spent the rest of the day helping Alex and Paul, finding the building soothing. Certainly made a difference when the day was cool, the surroundings were green and he wasn’t worried about getting his head shot off.
Paul had the radio blaring rock songs, and the easy laughter of the carpenters and Alex was a soothing balm, helping to keep his mind off The Goodbye Girl.
The only thing that troubled him was the thought that while he was working, she could be packing and leaving town.
Squaring his jaw, he continued working.
By the time they knocked off work, he was dusty, sweaty and more than ready for a shower. Harly greeted them at the front door, Buffy at her side, Sunny waiting for him on the hallway table. Sunny took one look at the plastic bag in his hand and her whiskers
The blonde smiled at him. “You’re staying with the Lawson’s, right?”
“Yep.” The blonde was gorgeous, no doubt about it, but his mind was on another woman. “How will I know Bree when I see her?’
Shit, that hadn’t come out right. Subtle as a bus arse-ending a motorbike.
“You don’t know what Bree looks like?” The older woman studied him.
He’d have thought that was obvious. Too late to back down now. “I’m afraid not.”
“Huh. Well, she’s at the hairdresser. Ask there for her.”
The blonde smiled, edging closer, one slim hand on the trolley handle. “I’m Felicity.”
“Hi. I’m Nick.” He gave them all a sweeping smile. “Thanks ladies.”
He made his escape, waiting impatiently at the checkout while the man ahead of him put his groceries through before Nick was finally through, the toothbrush in a small plastic bag dangling from his hand.
Out on the sidewalk, he started for the hairdresser, only to pull up short.
Hang on. Bree was at the hairdresser, maybe had those curler things in her hair, goop all over it. Barging in there and trying to make her happy to see him when she was sitting there with all that shit in or on her hair wasn’t the wisest thing to do.
Crap .
Maybe she was just getting a trim or something. That meant those steel peg things holding up chunks of hair, not a good look. Not that he’d give a flying fig, but it wasn’t going to win her over.
Shit and double shit . Nick frowned at the front of the hairdressers shop. Now what? Retreat? Forge on? No, he wasn’t that stupid. He’d been around women for years, he wasn’t a novice to their way of thinking. Certainly no expert, because who the hell would ever fully understand the apparently gentler of the human species? Get them riled up and they’d get you, either through stealth or straight on attack, and they could leave a nasty sting.
He didn’t think Bree would be like that, her letters hadn’t hinted at anything nasty, but one never knew. This was still uncharted territory.
Okay, ease back, Nic k. You haven’t thought this completely through. Uncharted territory required a bit of recon. He had time, all he had to do was be in town, work, keep his ear to the ground, and he’d soon find out who Bree was and where she worked.
Yeah, he just had to ease up on the throttle. He was here for seven weeks more yet, though he’d planned to check out some other towns in-between to give Alex and Harly time alone, but still, he would be here most of the time. Barging around like a bull in a china shop just wasn’t the way to do it. He could very well end up embarrassing himself and his friends.
Damn good sense. Even though he knew he was thinking correctly, he couldn’t help but be annoyed, not able to quite tamp down the impatience at waiting. Personally, he preferred the upfront directive - walk in, ask who Bree was, introduce himself and talk. This tip-toeing around was crap.
But he’d do it. Sighing, Nick started for the café. Damn it, he’d be subtle. Dumb arse.
Determined to remain calm and directed, Nick spent the rest of the day helping Alex and Paul, finding the building soothing. Certainly made a difference when the day was cool, the surroundings were green and he wasn’t worried about getting his head shot off.
Paul had the radio blaring rock songs, and the easy laughter of the carpenters and Alex was a soothing balm, helping to keep his mind off The Goodbye Girl.
The only thing that troubled him was the thought that while he was working, she could be packing and leaving town.
Squaring his jaw, he continued working.
By the time they knocked off work, he was dusty, sweaty and more than ready for a shower. Harly greeted them at the front door, Buffy at her side, Sunny waiting for him on the hallway table. Sunny took one look at the plastic bag in his hand and her whiskers
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