Page 33 of Securing Samantha
“A job?” Whiskey scratched his head.
Claire laughed. “Yeah. You know, where you get up for a purpose and do something for a few hours in the day and sometimes longer.”
“Do you think I can handle it? Who would hire me with my issues?” He stopped in the middle of the room.
“Why don’t you talk to Leo? Kassie built the team facility on the mountain with the purpose of helping him recruit men from the hospital who still want to work. With your connection to the team and healing, I think you qualify.” She stood and walked toward him. “It might help you to develop a sense of normalcy. As far as Samantha’s concerned, I think you need to take the first initiative. Communication with each other acts as a key in developing a good relationship for parenting and provides a solid base for friendship. Talk to her and if you can’t work together, I’ll help you.” Claire gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
Whiskey nodded and turned to leave her office. He climbed into his truck and gripped the steering wheel. He spoke to himself. “Okay you spineless shit. Go down to her shop and talk to her.” He put the truck in gear and drove down the mountain. He parked in front of the store. Samantha leaned on the counter texting on her phone. Every once in a while, she beamed when she glanced down at the device. He missed her smile. Since finding out he stayed on the mountain, he didn’t give her many reasons to feel happy. “Go in there and ask her if you can see your son. Let her know you aren’t completely worthless.”
He forced himself out of the truck. He opened the door and the bell chimed, making Samantha glance up from her phone. The grin disappeared as she straightened.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Whiskey approached the counter. Samantha dropped her phone on the counter and stepped back as if even getting close to him hurt her. He tried to hide how badly her actions cut him.
“Whiskey,” she addressed him.
“Hello, Samantha. I wondered if when the shop closed, we might go to the bakery for a cup of coffee?” He fidgeted as he waited for to her respond.
“Whiskey, I have a son and I can’t make impromptu meetings. I need to get home to him, we use a schedule. Our vacation threw him off our normal routine.” She moved to adjust some of the lip balms by the side of the counter.
He nodded. “I understand. I guess I didn’t think things out. Speaking of appointments, I wondered if you’d mind cutting my hair and trimming my beard. My hands shake and the only way I found I could tolerate it better is if I close my eyes. Shadow attempted to do it. As you can tell it didn’t go very well. I get uneasy with a man standing over me.”
Her eyes rolled. She sighed. “Whiskey…I” The bell chimed indicating a customer. Samantha smiled and walked around the counter to help the elderly woman. She grabbed a basket as the lady pointed to the teas she selected and chatted.
He moved out of the way as Samantha checked out the customer.
She grabbed the bag and helped the woman to her car. When she returned, she flipped the sign and turned off the front lights.
She stood by the door as if she waited for something. Whiskey realized she wanted him to leave. He shook his head and stared down at the floor, ashamed he even asked her. He didn’t realize how much her smell relaxed him.
“You don’t have to cut my hair. Can we schedule a time to discuss our son?” Whiskey stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the balled-up fists. The frustration on how he caused this reaction from her burned in his chest. The urge to grab her and kiss her senseless, whispering in her ear their favorite phrase hit him strong. But he knew she’d refuse any type of apology he threw out.
“I’ll do your hair and beard. Let me text Edie to let her know I’ll be late. We can discuss LJ at the same time. Don’t drop in anymore, Whiskey. Make an appointment. It’s tough enough without you making surprise visits,” she warned.
She moved behind a screen and motioned for him to follow. Samantha slowly draped the smock around him. “Will the cape bother you?” she asked as she adjusted it. She waited for him to check the tightness.
His fingers gripped the edge of the cape. He thought how the rebels dragged him by a rope wrapped around his neck. Funnily enough, he didn’t feel panicked with Samantha beside him and the lavender scent calming him.
“It’s ok. If I lift my right hand, I need you to step back and away from me. Kassie cut the length off when I first got here and washed it in some special stuff to get rid of any critters, but it itches something awful. I don’t know if it’s a memory or a reason. Can you take it down like I wore it before and cut my hair back too?” He stared pointedly at her shoes.
She rose when he mentioned Kassie. He hoped he didn’t make things worse, but he didn’t intend to hide how much her friend helped him and encouraged him to speak with Samantha.
“Your skin feels extremely dry and it’s compounding your issue. May I put my cream on your face? I think you’ll find it soothing.” She told him as she stroked his face examining his skin.
He didn’t respond right away. Whiskey’s mind stuck on her having her cream on his face. He felt the first erection he had in forever grow and suddenly became grateful for the cape hiding his lower half from her. He swallowed hard before nodding. He planned to grip the sides of the chair to get through the haircut. Now he clutched it for an entirely different reason.
“I’ll need you to lie back to wash your hair. Do you need the temperature adjusted any certain way?” she inquired.
“No, lass,” his voice came out strangled.
“If you’re not comfortable, I can dry cut it,” she offered.
“No. I want you to do this,” his accent turned heavy as he inhaled her scent. The smell reminded him of how easily she erased the anxiety within him.
She leaned over and turned the knobs letting the water run warm. She pulled jars from her shelf. Samantha stood beside him and set the products down. Her voice softened as she spoke, “I’ll rub some stuff to soak into your beard and then have you lean over the sink to wash it out when I finish your hair. I’ll place a piece of plastic over your chest and a towel.” She waited for him to give her the go ahead.
He felt the light sheet of plastic go over his upper half and she gently tucked it under the cape. Her fingers skimmed his neck. The smell of tea tree tickled his nose as her fingers started massaging the sides of his jaw and made their way into his beard. She worked the product into the mass, gently pulling on the scraggily length. When she finished, she rinsed her hands in the running water and wet his hair. A new smell relaxed him as she squeezed product in her hand and gently scrubbed his head.