by Haley Travis
Snipping Up Love
Insta Love Shy Girl Romance #5
By Haley Travis
Copyright 2020 Haley Travis. All rights reserved. Cover design by Lexie Renard.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted or duplicated in any form whatsoever without express written permission of the author. This book is intended for sale to adults only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual people or specific locations or details is completely coincidental, or intended fictitiously. All characters are over 18, no sex partners are related, all sex is consensual. This is fantasy. In the real world, everyone practices safe sex at all times. Right? Right.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
The Series
Chapter One - Katy
Chapter Two - Dan
Chapter Three - Katy
Chapter Four - Dan
Chapter Five - Katy
Chapter Six - Dan
Chapter Seven - Katy
Chapter Eight - Dan
Chapter Nine - Katy
Epilogue - Katy
Other Stories & About the Author
***
Enjoy more of the “ Up Love - Insta Love Shy Girl Romance ” Series.
#1 - Icing up Love
When a cake decorator meets a former hockey player,
the icing meets the ice in a whirlwind fast romance.
#2 - Packing Up Love
When a moving man falls for a damsel in distress,
his overprotective urges are too heavy for a girl labeled, “Fragile”.
#3 - Snapping Up Love
Will an event photographer keep his focus when the perfect model steps into his life?
#4 - Inking Up Love
Can a tattoo artist keep his hands steady when the girl of his dreams walks in the door?
#5 - Snipping Up Love
When a billionaire visits a new hair stylist,
‘a little off the top’ becomes ‘over the top’ in an instant romance.
#6 - Roasting Up Love
A cafe owner brews more than java when
he meets a web designer with an empty mug and an empty heart.
#7 - Serving Up Love
A billionaire hands a sweet event server his own heart on a silver platter.
***
CHAPTER ONE
* Katy *
When I finally found an almost affordable apartment in downtown Toronto, I thought that my job would provide me with an easy source of friends. I’d only been a hairstylist for about a year, and everyone who had worked at the shop in my hometown was incredibly friendly.
But apparently, things were different in the big city. Every stylist seemed intent on building their own clientele, and was less concerned about helping the shop, and helping everyone else out.
I found myself gravitating more to the barbershop side of the space whenever I wasn’t busy. At least the men were chatty, and the customers seemed to like having a young lady around to compliment their new cuts. Having very few people to really talk to was beginning to wear me down.
My boss Tasha told me to go home for the day since it was incredibly slow, and I had no appointments booked. Since I had no clientele of my own yet, I usually took care of the walk-ins. But I was so bored and lonely that instead, I went over to sit near Max’s station. His favorite client, little old Mr. Heffernan, came in every four weeks for a trim, and the two of them were always a riot together.
I listened intently to all of their superstitious beliefs about why it would be three more years before our hockey team took the cup. I didn’t follow sports, but it was fascinating how excited and hilarious they became, egging each other on.
They grew quieter when a large man in a crisp white shirt and black pants came in and sat in the waiting area. He was perhaps in his early forties, and carried himself with an almost regal attitude.
“Hello, Mr. Whittaker,” Max said rather formally. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“No worries, take your time,” the big man said, looking around the room. His eyes met mine, and suddenly I felt strangely unnerved. It was as if he were sizing me up, analyzing every part of me.
I suddenly wished that I had worn a nicer dress. I had to buy cheap but trendy clothes for work because they always got destroyed from a splash of hair dye or a fallen straightening iron. Since jangling bracelets seemed rude next to my client’s ears, I wore slim leather cuffs, so at least I had some jewelry. I didn’t like to wear rings while working with people’s hair. Now I found myself analyzing every choice I had made while putting myself together this morning.
“New girl, come here,” the man said, standing up.
I looked to Max in surprise, but he nodded urgently. I found myself standing in front of this stranger without even knowing how I got there.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Katy.” Realizing he likely didn’t hear my whisper, I cleared my throat. “Katy Michaud.” I didn’t understand why he made me feel so small and nervous. I was fairly short, but my overall size didn’t normally seem petite. He was just so huge.
“I’m Dan,” he said, shaking my hand gently. “Do you work here?”
“Yes.” Why did my voice sound so small? “I’m a new stylist on the women’s side.”
“But you can cut men’s hair too?” It sounded like more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, of course.”
He took my hand and led me to the empty station beside Max. It was so strange that he just took my hand as if he were used to controlling people. Yet it was also rather nice, somehow. “I have an important event tonight, and I can’t look like I just got a new haircut. But it’s a tiny bit too long at the top.”
I stood behind him, and instantly began running my fingers through his thick, dark hair. Picking up a pair of Max’s scissors, I used them to point precisely. “So you only want an eighth of an inch off?” I indicated.
“Exactly.”
“And I’ll just shave up the back to tidy everything?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t say please. His commanding tone was strange. It wasn’t exactly arrogant, it was just that he seemed to expect me to obey him.
“Would you like a shampoo first?” I asked.
His eyes met mine in the mirror, then he smiled. He had been handsome before, but as those deep blue-black eyes lit up with a tiny twinkle, I felt a shiver run through me. He was gorgeous.
I saw his eyes flick to my chest for a split second. “Katy, I wish I had the time to have you bent over me, scrubbing my hair. But I’m in a hurry today.”
It was obvious that some men loved having their hair washed by a female stylist since it basically put our breasts in their face. And since I was pretty curvy, that was certainly the situation. It was strange that I was disappointed that he didn’t have the time. It was also odd that he’d point it out like that.
“Max, is it okay if I just use your kit?”
“Of course,” he said. He was looking at me very strangely, almost as if he were nervous around Dan.
He was finished with Mr. Heffernan, so they moved over to the bench at the back to continue their rambling about sports.
“Tell me about yourself, Katy,” Dan said briskly as I begin to comb and trim his hair.
“It’s a short story,” I said. “I grew up outside of Peterborough, and just moved to Toronto a month and a half ago.”
“Why did you move to the city?”
“I needed a change. And I want
ed to be closer to the big museums and the art galleries. I really enjoy people watching,” I confessed, unsure why I was sharing this with him. “I could spend hours at a café on Queen Street just staring at people walking by, and wondering why they chose that haircut, that jacket, why they put themselves together that way.”
He looked at me with the strangest expression. “Did you move to Toronto with family?” Then his jaw grew tight before he said, “Or a boyfriend?”
I shook my head with a shy smile. “Nope. Just me.” My fingers worked through his thick hair quickly, blending the sides up carefully.
“How old are you? You live alone? All by yourself?”
“I’m twenty-two,” I said. “Yes, I’m alone. And I was really lucky to find a tiny basement apartment.”
He actually shuddered. “You don’t belong in a basement, beautiful. You should be at the top of a tower.”
I laughed lightly, but he didn’t seem to be joking. “Well, Dan, a girl just has to get by in the world any way she can.”
He began to shake his head, then realized I had razor-sharp scissors near his temple. “Sorry,” he muttered. His eyes darted around the salon. “Do you do men’s cuts very often?”
“Not really. Just one guy so far. He had very long hair, a musician I think, and he’d only let someone with long hair touch his.” I grinned at him in the mirror. “I think he was paranoid that anyone who didn’t understand would cut too much off.”
Dan’s tight crooked smile was confusing. “Would you date him?” he asked suddenly. “A musician?”
I shrugged. “Sure. I mean, not that guy in particular I don’t think, but I’d go out with anyone that I clicked with if they seemed nice.”
One of Dan’s eyebrows raised. “Was he a rich or poor musician type?”
I laughed. “Definitely poor. He was very apologetic that he could only tip me five dollars.” I still couldn’t read Dan’s expression. “But I’ve never gone out with a rich guy. To be honest, I’d probably date a poor man before a rich man.” Walking around his chair to double-check everything, I didn’t know why Max shot me a sharp glance.
“What’s wrong with rich men?” Dan asked with a smirk.
I shrugged again. “Nothing, probably. I just wouldn’t know how to act around them. If he took me to some sort of elegant event filled with fancy people, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
I took Max’s razor and gently tipped Dan’s head forward to tidy up his collar line. It was a relief that the loud buzz made it hard to chat for a moment. This guy was a bit weird. But he was also almost uncomfortably handsome. It was tricky to keep my eyes in place so that it didn’t seem like I was staring at him.
It was also strange that my hands gravitated toward him as if they were magnetized. Brushing a piece of hair off the edge of his ear was normal with anyone else, but with him, it was a caress. I couldn’t quite make my hands behave.
Bringing out the duster, I quickly whisked away the stray hairs at the back of his neck. Then I was completely unable to stop myself as I leaned in, blowing gently across the back of both of his ears. I’ve never done such a thing before. I could see in the mirror that his eyes closed as he clearly enjoyed my breath across his skin. Did he feel this strange pull as well?
“What do you think?” I asked. “Just a little off the top, like you asked. And a bit of a tidy up around the sides.”
He turned his head back and forth, then his eyes flashed up to mine. “Perfect. Thank you, Katy.”
“You’re very welcome,” I smiled.
He stood up, towering over me, then his arm slid around me as he pulled me close to whisper in my ear, “You’re my new favorite stylist, little one.”
Then he hugged me. Actually, it was less of a hug, and more like a feeling of him... possessing me? His hands pressed gently against my back, moving across the thin fabric of my dress, his heat filling me and making me tingle. My hands automatically circled his neck, as he brought his face closer.
His lips brushed against my cheek so softly it could have been an accident. But it was definitely a subtle kiss. My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him. Then he released one arm, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I need your number, little Katy.”
He unlocked his phone and entered my number as I told him, his thumb moving like lightning across the bright screen.
“I’ll contact you tomorrow and take you to dinner.”
Again, it wasn’t a question. But even though he was oddly demanding, the way his hand was still stroking my back, his deep eyes burning into mine, there was no way I could refuse.
“Okay. I’ll be done at six.”
His lips met my forehead for just an instant. He slipped me sixty dollars, which was more than double the price of a men’s trim, then he was gone. The bell jangled over the side door as I tried to breathe normally again.
CHAPTER TWO
* Dan *
I’d gotten this far in life by listening to my gut. Houses, cars, investments, my gut was never wrong. When hiring smart, trustworthy people, my gut reaction was more accurate than any reference or resume.
But never in my life have I had this reaction to a girl before. It was unsettling.
She was ethereal. A little angel come to earth. She seemed artsy. Creative. I could easily imagine her sketching flowers out on the huge back patio of my house, laughing with my housekeeper Rosa as they decided what we should have for dinner.
Her soft, delicate skin made my heart race. Her lovely dark hair made her look pale and precious. Her big blue eyes seemed so trusting, and so timid at the same time. She was obviously cautious, a bit nervous about the world.
So there was no way I could terrify her at the start of our brand new budding relationship by telling her that I’m one of the richest men in the city.
I knew that many people looked down on the rich these days, talking about hoarding money and wasting resources. But my father’s company had always been as eco-friendly as reasonably possible. Since I took over his company, I made sure that our environmental programs more than offset anything negative.
We also gave a ton of money to various charities and had education programs across the province. As soon as I explained all of this to Katy, she would know that I’m not an evil corporate overlord.
But I was definitely rich. I would certainly want to take her to fancy places. Just the thought of walking into my company’s annual gala with that sweet, curvy beauty on my arm filled me with pride.
It had been nearly impossible to stop myself from staring at her incredible breasts, and ample hips. Her plentiful hourglass figure actually made my mouth water.
Her pretty little doll face had seemed quite coy. She was definitely a shy girl, and I didn’t want to be the jerk to put her on the spot or make her feel more nervous than she already was. If I was going to win her over, I was going to have to stay undercover, in a manner of speaking, and get her to fall for me hard so that she wouldn’t judge me when she found out the whole truth.
Jumping into the back of my town car, I had Larry, my driver, take off before she could see. I immediately sent a text to Laura, one of my assistants, to find a low-key, casual but fun restaurant for dinner tomorrow night. I also asked her to find any arts events that were within walking distance of the restaurant.
It had been a long time since I’d been on a date without my car and driver. Mind you, it had been a very long time since I’d been on a date.
My assistants had stopped asking me if I was taking a ‘plus one’ to the endless events I attended, knowing that if I ever was, I would inform them immediately.
Staring out the window on the way to my office tower, I realized that I was grinning ear to ear. Katy was such a darling little treasure, and she had definitely felt the pull between us. There was no way a girl would let a man practically kiss her if she didn’t truly feel it.
CHAPTER THREE
* Katy *
I tossed and turned all night, wondering
if I was losing my mind. The stress of moving, having extremely little money, and not very many people to talk to, had all been wearing me down.
But letting a total stranger kiss me at work? That was not something that I would ever do. Not in a million years. Yet there was something about him that simply drew me in.
Since I had no idea where we were going for dinner, I wore a simple dark blue dress, that miraculously stayed clean all day at the shop.
I added long dangling silver leaf earrings, and a couple of blue and purple beaded bracelets. There was no way I could wear heels that were very high because I was on my feet all day, but the low heel on my chunky black boots gave me an extra inch of height.
Thinking of how tall and wide Dan was give me a thrill. There was just something about a huge man that turned me on. But also, it was fascinating how direct he was. I had always been quiet, and I knew that I was a bit too nervous about things that shouldn’t affect me. But maybe if I were with a man like that for a couple of dates, I could learn how to open up a bit.
It was bizarre that I didn’t know a single thing about him. He seemed like some sort of businessman, I guessed, but there was no way to know, and Max wouldn’t say a word.
Checking my phone mid-afternoon, there was a text from Dan, confirming that he’d pick me up at six. I responded, telling him, “Okay – see you soon”. My date with him was really happening, but I certainly couldn’t let my hands shake from nerves while I was working.
It was reasonably busy at the shop all day, with plenty of walk-ins. I even had an appointment at five-twenty pm, with a friend of the long-haired musician. Pete also had quite long hair, and was equally paranoid that I would take too much off.
“That’s why I don’t use terms like just a bit, or just a trim,” I reassured him. Combing out his hair, I pointed with the scissors. “I think you need that much taken off to get rid of the split ends. Is that okay?”
