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)
Saxon rested his forehead against mine for a beat. When he finally pulled back, his thumb traced a lazy line along my lower lip before he dropped his hand. “Go inside, sunshine.”
The nickname melted me all over again. “Good night, Saxon.”
“Night.”
I opened the door, and my knees were unsteady as I took one step inside. I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder one last time. Our gazes met, and the intensity in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.
I was in way over my head with Saxon…but it didn’t make me want him any less.
5
SAXON
The next evening, I was early, and I didn’t bother pretending it was a coincidence. I stepped inside The Color Loft with the last rush of clients already gone and the place settling into that end-of-day quiet.
Ivy stood at her station with her back to me, wiping down the chair and comb tray with easy, practiced movements. Her dark hair was swept away from her neck, but a few loose strands brushed the soft line behind her ear. I sauntered to the wall beside her mirror and leaned a shoulder against it, my hands in my coat pockets as I let myself watch her without hurrying the moment.
She noticed me in the glass before she turned. I watched as small changes hit her face—the blink, the quick breath, and the professional smile she tried to shape over nerves that didn’t want to be hidden. Her chin tipped up as though she had the upper hand here while she stowed a pair of shears in their slot like she hadn’t just been caught staring.
“You again?” she asked, her voice light. “Aren’t you tired of taking me home?”
“I don’t see that happening.” I held her eyes steadily in the mirror, letting her hear the implied promise.
She laughed, the sound low and a little breathless, but while the expression reached her mouth, it didn’t make it to her eyes.
That detail landed hard. I watched her with a little more intensity, trying to see what I was missing. She was doing a good job of playing it cool, but there was a flicker there—something wary. Then the truth finally slithered into my brain. She thought my interest would burn hot and fast, and then I’d move on.
Not a fucking chance in hell, sunshine.
She moved through the last beats of closing, dropping her comb into the blue disinfectant and wiping the tray again even though it was already clean. I saw the moment her fingers slipped—she’d removed the comb from the container, and it skated off the lip, bounced, and started to fall. I shifted quickly, caught it before it hit the floor, and straightened. When I came up, we were closer than either of us expected, enough that her soft vanilla with a clean floral note hit me full and made my pulse kick.
She was right there, her soft brown eyes lifted to mine, cheeks pink and mouth parted. Her breath caught when I passed the comb into her hand, and my thumb grazed the inside of her wrist. I suppressed a smile when I felt the small, involuntary shiver climb through her muscles.
The air between us turned thick and hot. Finally, I broke the silence. “You can keep trying to pretend you don’t feel something between us, sunshine. But I’m not going anywhere.”
Her throat worked on a swallow, her eyes searching mine. Then she nodded once—a tiny movement, like her body had agreed before her brain could assemble a counterargument. Turning back to her station, she slid the comb into its slot, buying herself a second to pull her mask into place. I let her have it. She liked control, and I could respect that.
I braced my shoulder against the wall once more. My palms itched to bracket her hips, and I felt a clean jolt of wanting her every time she drew breath. I wasn’t going to pretend the urge away to make this easier on her. We were going to happen, but I was willing to give her a little more time.
Once the lights had been snapped off one by one, she locked up, and I walked her to the SUV. The ride home took the normal hour and change with the usual stretch of brake lights, her knee bumping the console now and then like she’d forgotten where her leg ended, and small conversations slipping out between street signs as if the dark made it easier.
At her door, I kissed her good night, longer than the night before, slow and warm and sure. Her hand slid up the front of my coat like she was trying to memorize the width of my chest through it. Pulling back took effort, but leaving took even fucking more. Somehow, I did both.
The next day, I came bearing offerings and a gift for my girl. I walked in midafternoon with two brown bags from the deli three blocks over. The one with the ridiculous line and the better bread that I knew Ivy loved. I set them on the front counter, and Missy’s eyes went wide.