Page 11 of Starlight Salon

“How do you know that?” I can’t keep the shock from my voice.

No one’s ever noticed before. He’s right. I always leave it loose when I work, I’m a hairdresser, clients need to see good hair. But as soon as I finish, it’s tied up, out of my face and off my neck. Sometimes I forget to carry hair ties and have to beg Isla for them.

“At the bar, you always put it in a twisty clip thing.” He drops his gaze and nudges his head against my arm, stubble scraping deliciously against me. “It looks different today.”

“I cut it early this morning. Stress got to me.”

“About what?”

I bite the inside of my cheek, deliberating if I should be honest with him. Don’t want him to think I’m insane, but…he notices my hair. “Getting the salon ready. There’s still so much to do,” I shrug. “So I cut my hair. It’s sort of therapeutic, but also forces me to focus on something else.” I needed to if I wanted any sleep.

“And now you’re more stressed because I didn’t fix the water.” He tilts his head so his eyes can meet mine; his hair brushes my arm sending shivers through me. His eyes are dark and intense, demanding my attention. “I’m going to fix it tomorrow. Don’t stress.”

“You might not feel better tomorrow?—”

“Don’t care. Won’t have you stressed.”

“Lachlan, I don’t want you feeling worse.”

“I don’t want you stressed,” he growls at me.

A thrill runs through me. “Okay.” I decide not to argue. If he’s as sick as he is now, there’s no way he’ll be able to fix the water, but I don’t want him to get worked up and hurt himself over nothing. It isn’t a big deal. So the salon doesn’t currently have hot water, I’ll figure it out. The goal is to get him better.

“Good.” His head drops against my arm, and he turns to the TV—as if we just had a normal conversation.

“Do you like being a plumber?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Something to do. It helps people a little, which is nice. I prefer the business side of it.”

“If you prefer the business side, why were you coming to the salon? You could have sent someone else.”

“Mm. They would’ve if they knew you needed your water fixed.”

“Huh?” He wriggles closer and his weight becomes heavier. He’s nearly asleep, but I refuse to let him, not until he explains himself. “What do you mean they didn’t know? Surely they know you’re sick and would take the clients allocated to you?”

“They know I’m sick.”

“So why wasn’t someone else sent to me?” I cup his cheek and gently force him to meet my gaze. His brown eyes are drowsy and warm as they stare at me.

“I didn’t tell them, so I’d have to come.” He presses a kiss on my bare arm. “Don’t trust them to fix it right.”

Warmth radiates from my arm through my body, and I suppress a shiver. “You wanted to come?”

“Yeah, baby. Gotta make sure the plumbing is up to my standard. Don’t want anyone fucking up your salon.”

He presses another kiss on my arm, throws his arm over my body and burrows into me. On his wrist, he’s wearing a pink scrunchie.

I blink at Friends running on the screen. What just happened? As he falls asleep clutching me, I try to untangle everything he said. I wrap an arm around his back and draw mindless circles on his bare skin. He huffs softly and rubs against me. He’s like a cat. A large cuddly cat who demands affection, and apparently doesn’t want anyone else touching my plumbing.

I bite my lip, brush hair out of his face and hug him close.

4

Lachlan

“Ah, fuck.” I yank the covers over my head to avoid whatever’s poking me in the cheek.

“Good, you’re alive.”