by Liz Isaacson
She started praying that she’d be able to deliver a good haircut for him, and that he’d like it. Her fingers shook, and she really needed them to stop. She didn’t want him to find her nervous, and the only person she’d ever been worried about cutting their hair had been her sister. Betty was so critical, and she’d said she was “pleasantly surprised” with Patsy’s haircut. Betty was the queen of backhanded compliments, but Patsy took what she could get from her sister.
Patsy tapped the barstool as Cy approached. “Right here.”
“Motorcycles aren’t like horses,” he said, pausing before he sat down.
“You’ve said that.”
“But I have ridden horses, and I did grow up on a farm.”
Patsy slid the drape around him and snapped it at the back of his neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, desire popping through her. “You have a lot of hair.”
“Yeah.” He reached up and pushed his hand through it too. “My mother is going to be thrilled.” He chuckled and took a deep breath. “I grew it out in California, and I don’t live in California anymore. It’s time for a change.”
“The cowboy hat will fit better,” she said, reaching to plug in the clippers. “What are you thinking? How short are we talking?”
“Have you seen Gray?”
Patsy plugged in her clippers and stood back. “You are not going to a military-slash-lawyer cut like Gray.”
“No? Why not?” Cy twisted to look at her.
Patsy just shook her head. “It’s not you.”
“What is me, then?”
She stepped to the side, so he could see her better without that twist in his spine. They looked at one another, and Patsy lost her voice for a moment. Then she asked, “Do you trust me?”
“One hundred percent,” he said.
A slow smile crossed her face, and for the first time in a long time, Patsy felt truly happy. The feeling sparkled inside her, and she wanted to trap it and keep it with her. Just like she wanted to do with Cy Hammond.
“All right,” she said. “Now sit up straight and look down for me.” She looked through her attachments and found the largest one, snapped it into place, and clicked on the clippers. Buzzing filled the kitchen, and Cy tensed as Patsy ran her fingers along the side of his neck and then placed the small appliance against the nape of his neck.
The dark hair fell to the floor in soft curls, and Patsy said, “Oh, boy. This is a lot, Cy.”
“It’s fine,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring.
She continued up the back of his head and around his ears. She shaved up the sides, and then stopped. Cutting hair was like riding a bike, and her fingers knew exactly what to do. She picked up the scissors and started trimming the top, leaving it long enough to style to the side. She’d never cut one of her boyfriend’s hair before, and she wondered why.
“Let’s say it’s your birthday,” she said.
“It’s in May,” he said.
“Okay,” she said. “It’s May, and it’s your birthday. Two questions: One, how old would you be, and two, what would you want for your birthday meal?”
“My birthday meal?”
“Yeah. When I had a birthday growing up, my mom made us a birthday meal. All of our favorite things. When we turned twelve, we got to choose a restaurant, which was a big deal. We never went out to eat.”
Snip, snip, snip. Patsy moved around to the other side and started evening things out.
“And the whole family didn’t even go. Just one parent and the birthday kid. My mom took the girls. My dad took Joe.”
“Just when you turned twelve, huh?”
“Yep.” She brushed the hair off his shoulders where it had collected. “My mom made dinner every night. Meat and potatoes and some sort of vegetable. The meat was always dry. Always overcooked.” Patsy giggled and shook her head, still working around the crown of his head. “But she made great scalloped potatoes. And dessert. We always had an apple dessert.”
“I bet you did,” he said.
Patsy told herself to stop talking. Why did her mouth run away from her like this? Hadn’t she just told herself she didn’t have to tell him anything else about herself or her family?
Yes, yes, she had.
“I had to share a birthday with Ames,” Cy said. “I still do, I guess.” He chuckled, and Patsy wondered if he was nervous. “Anyway, as a kid, I wanted boxed macaroni and cheese. Always. Ames has never appreciated the simple things in life, and our dad spoiled him with steak and seafood from the age of three. So he wanted stuff like steak sandwiches and shrimp scampi.”
“I don’t even know what shrimp scampi is,” Patsy said.
“Right?” Cy laughed, his shoulders shaking. She liked the sound of it, and she liked how easy it was to be here with him, cutting his hair and talking. “Ames has always been the diva of the family.”
“And Colton’s the best friend. Wes is the CEO. Gray’s the stuffy lawyer. You’re the…free-loving, surfing, motorcycle guy?”
“That’s way too many descriptors,” he said.
“Narrow it for me.” She stepped back and looked at her work. She put on a shorter attachment and started to blend the lower half of his hair into the upper half.
“I’m the fun one,” he said. “Simple.”
“The fun one.” She made sure everything looked uniform and even, laughing to herself. “That is simpler.”
She finally took the attachment off and shaved his neck, unsnapped the drape, shook the hair from it, and said, “You’re done.”
Cy groaned as he stood up, and he faced her. “Thank you, Patsy.”
“Yeah, sure.” She looked down at the ground, and he did too.
“Wow,” he said, bending to grab a chunk of his hair. “This is a lot.” He reached up with the other hand and ran his fingers through his hair. “Holy cow, it hasn’t been this short in years.”
“Bathroom right down the hall. Go look.”
He held her gaze for another few seconds, and then he turned and went down the hall. Patsy drew in a deep breath, getting the scent of his cologne and his skin. He’d permeated her cabin now, and Patsy really liked it.
She just hoped he liked his haircut too. Please, dear Lord, she thought. I really like this man. Help me not to make a mess of this relationship. Just this once. Okay?
“Holy cow,” Cy called from down the hall, and Patsy’s heart leapt into the back of her throat.
Chapter Seven
Cy stared at himself in the mirror, stunned at the pretty boy haircut he now sported.
“You hate it,” Patsy said, pausing in the doorway.
“No,” he said slowly. He reached up and pushed his fingers through the top—which still had some decent length—and moved it to the left. “This side?” He honestly wasn’t sure how to wear it. “Or this way?” He combed it to the right. “Nope.”
He moved it back to the left and ran his palm down the back of his head. His hair was short.
“I’d do that side, yes,” she said. “And you can put some product in it, and it’ll be amazing.”
He met her eye in the mirror, and he felt like she was pretty dang amazing. “Thank you,” he said, turning and easily taking her into his arms. “I really like it.”
“Are you just saying that?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled against his shoulder.
“No.” He released her and stepped back. He couldn’t help glancing at himself in the mirror again, and he felt like he’d been completely reborn. New town. New building. New haircut.
New girlfriend?
He let Patsy go down the short hall to the kitchen, where she started sweeping up his hair. “I’m going to preheat the oven for the pizzas,” she said, and he finally pulled his attention from his reflection.
“Okay.” He took the few steps down the hall. “Would you take my picture? I want to send it to Ames and the other brothers.”
“Sure.” Patsy leaned the broom against the counter and took his phone. “All righ
t.” She held it up and pointed it at him, and Cy struck a pose.
Patsy burst out laughing, and Cy couldn’t help doing the same, dropping his stance. She shook her head and said through her giggles, “Not like that. You seriously looked like you were going to attack me.”
Cy chuckled and self-consciously ran his hands through his hair, swooping it to the left.
“Just smile,” she said, and since he already was, he kept the happiness on his face while she tapped on his phone. “Perfect.” She handed the device back and returned to her cleaning. He looked at the photos, and he actually really liked them.
He looked clean-cut, but not military. His hair was darker than he’d thought, and he didn’t have a stitch of gray anywhere. Thankfully. He wasn’t even forty yet, and he’d lived a fairly easy lifestyle in California.
The past few months had been stressful, but they obviously hadn’t taken their toll yet. Construction on his new shop would continue as soon as the New Year started and the weather allowed.
He’d have Rev for Vets open by the end of March, and they had to stick to a pretty regimented schedule to do it. His house would come after that, and a touch of foolishness bumped out with his next heartbeat over the way he’d asked about living in the other cabin here at the lodge.
It made no sense for him to move up here. He had one reason and one reason only: the gorgeous blonde now tapping buttons on the oven to get it preheating.
He looked away from her just as she turned around, and he put his new photo in the brothers text with the words, Patsy cut my hair. What do you think?
He hoped he’d get a favorable response, and if he wasn’t with Patsy, Ames would probably call. His strait-laced, no-nonsense, police officer brother got twitchy if his hair grew longer than two inches, that was for sure.
Wow! Colton said. It’s amazing, Cy.
Looks great, brother, Wes said.
Ames’s message came in only a moment later. Totally suits you. You look like you could run a business now.
“Gee, thanks,” Cy muttered, though he wasn’t really annoyed with his twin. He’d just slipped his phone in his back pocket when another message came in. He pulled it out to find Gray’s commentary.
I really like it, Cy. Looks amazing.
And not two seconds later: Patsy? Like the Patsy who works at the lodge?
He’d been in the lodge when Cy had asked her out over the PA system. He probably just thought Cy wouldn’t actually follow through.
Yeah, they’re dating now, Colton said, and Cy’s lungs stuck together.
Whoa, whoa, he typed out quickly. No, we’re not.
You’re on a date with her, Ames said.
“No,” he said out loud, typing the two letters. I’m just spending the afternoon with her.
In her cabin, Wes added. They’re making dinner and cuddling by firelight.
Sounds like a date, Gray said.
Cy’s irritation grew, and he needed to get out of this brothers text. Fast. I’m out, he said. Talk amongst yourselves. But we’re not datING.
Did you or did you not ask me to help you make a plan for a DATE?
Cy ignored Ames’s text and shoved his phone in his back pocket.
“Everything okay?” Patsy asked, and he focused on her.
“I have four brothers,” he said. “Who all think they know better than I do.”
She nodded, a knowing glint in her eye. “But did they like the hair?”
He grinned at her and looked at the ingredients she’d gotten out while he’d been texting. “Yeah, they did.”
She grinned back at him, and said, “Okay, so this is what we’ve got. Put on anything you want,” and Cy took in his options.
“What are you going to put on yours?” he asked.
She placed a ball of dough in front of him. “I like green peppers, pepperoni, and olives,” she said.
“A woman after my own heart,” he said, and he unwrapped his ball of dough.
“Really?” she asked. “I pegged you for an all-meat type of pizza eater.”
“That’s good too.”
“White sauce or red?”
“Either,” he said. “I like the white sauce with bacon and ham and pineapple.”
“Okay, no.” Patsy kneaded her dough liked she’d done it countless times before. She probably had. “Pineapple has no place on a pizza.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I am not kidding.” She gave him a pointed look. “You’ll notice there are no fruits here to choose from.”
Cy scanned the ingredients again. “I see that.” He couldn’t help the glow of happiness moving through him. “You obviously like apples. So what’s the deal with pineapples?”
“No deal,” she said. “They just shouldn’t be eaten warm.”
Cy pressed his dough into a round disc. “My mother makes an amazing pineapple upside-down cake. That’s got warm pineapple.” He reached for a spoon. “With ice cream, it’s not bad.”
“So you don’t like warm pineapple either.”
“Sure I do,” he said. “There are no rules when it comes to pineapple.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Patsy smiled at him and added, “And you never did say what you’d like for your birthday meal.”
“Sure I did,” he said.
“Oh, come on,” she said, tossing him an exasperated look. “I’m not going to make boxed mac and cheese for your birthday.”
Cy ducked his head, once again glad for the cowboy hat. She was already planning to make him a meal for his birthday, and he found himself looking forward to that though it was five months away.
“Oh, all right,” he said. “If I were going to get anything I wanted for my birthday meal, I suppose it would be fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, and this creamed corn my mother makes. It’s amazing.”
“What kind of gravy?”
“Brown.” He sprinkled cheese over his sauce and glanced at her. Everything about the last couple of hours appealed to Cy, and he vowed not to leave her cabin that day without another date on the horizon.
The next morning, Cy opened the front door of the cabin where he’d stayed the night, the sunlight bouncing off the fresh snow blinding him. He pressed his eyes closed and threw up one hand to shield them while Sophia’s little dog trotted out like he didn’t even realize the world now carried another foot of snow.
“You’re going to get buried, bud,” he said to the pup, but Jonas bounded happily down the steps, disappearing into the drifts but popping right back up again.
Cy had stayed at Patsy’s until well past dark. Sophia had come back, and they’d all enjoyed more s’mores. Finally, he’d had to admit he couldn’t sleep on their couch, and when he’d gone out, Jonas had come with him.
He’d asked if he could take the dog with him, and Sophia had been more than happy to oblige. His truck was still parked up at the lot by Patsy’s cabin anyway, so it wasn’t a problem to take the dog back.
Cy simply couldn’t get himself to leave the porch and trudge through the snow.
In the distance, a humming started, which grew to a buzz. Finally, he realized what he was hearing—a snowmobile. Sure enough, only a few seconds later, the machine came over the rise in the hill that led to the stables, and Cy could only stare when he realized it was Patsy manning that thing.
“Wow,” he said to himself. “Would you look at that?” She was easily the sexiest woman he’d ever met, and he couldn’t wait until they could spend more time alone together. She’d said she needed to work for the next couple of days, as they did a deep clean on the lodge while there were extra hands to help.
Not only that, but that giant tree that they’d set up and decorated had to be taken down and all the pine needles cleaned up. Patsy said they usually started un-decorating the tree only a couple of days after Christmas, and the tree left the lodge the day after New Year’s. The family left very soon after that, and then it was back to business as usual.
“Thoug
ht you could use a ride,” Patsy said as she brought the snowmobile to a stop at the bottom of the steps. “Where’s Jonas?”
“Out there somewhere,” Cy said, and the little dog popped his head up.
“Come on, Jonas,” Patsy said, and the black pup hop, hop, hopped over to her. He got right on the back of the snowmobile, and Cy shook his head as he tromped down the steps.
“I think you’re in my seat, bud,” he said, throwing his leg over the back of the snowmobile. The dog pressed into Patsy’s back, and Cy picked him up and settled him on his lap as he situated his feet.
“Ready?
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Okay, hold on.” She took off like she was trying to win a race, and Cy yelped as he got thrown backward. He leaned forward and grabbed onto Patsy, not worrying about squishing Jonas between them. The dog would be safer if he did.
Patsy didn’t pull any punches, and she handled the big snowmobile flawlessly. She took him all the way to the edge of the parking lot, which had already been cleared.
“Wow,” Cy said. “You guys are efficient around here.”
“We know how to deal with snow,” Patsy said.
Cy got off the snowmobile with Jonas in his arms and turned back to put the dog back on the seat. “Thanks for the ride,” he said. “And thanks for yesterday. It was an amazing Christmas for me.”
“Me too,” Patsy said, smiling at him. “I’ll call you in a couple of days?”
“Can’t wait,” Cy said, and he tapped two fingers to the brim of his hat. He forced himself to walk away before he forced another awkward exchange, and he didn’t look back when the buzzing of the machine started up again.
He had a house to go home to, but he didn’t want to be alone. He’d forgotten to put the rubber band on his wrist after breakfast yesterday, and he felt on the edge of restlessness. He needed something to get this energy out, and Colton had a treadmill at his place.
Ames’s truck sat in the driveway too, and Cy knew he’d have to talk about his “date” with Patsy. Surprisingly, he wasn’t dreading it, though he was planning to make sure his brothers knew going on one date and dating were two different things.
