by Stacy Finz
“What are you doing with that?” Colin asked.
“I’ll give you one guess.” Before he could answer, a blast of warm air hit the back of his shoulders. “I just want to get you dry before I shape you a little more.”
This might well rank as the longest haircut on record, Colin thought as Darla took another whack at his hair, doing weird crap with the sharp edge of the scissor.
“Colin, you’re in for a big surprise,” she said, finger-brushing his hair until she got it the way she wanted. After removing the hot towel from around his face, she continued to trim little wisps from his facial hair, moving his face from side to side.
When she finished, Darla just stood there, cocking her head from left to right, appraising him until he felt his face heat under her scrutiny.
Finally, she spun the chair around so he faced the mirror. Holy shit. He did a double take, not recognizing the person staring back at him. No longer did he look like a man who’d just come off the mountain. The difference was startling. Shocking, really.
“Well, what do you think?” Darla stood tapping her toe, waiting in anticipation.
Colin bent closer to the mirror, studying his profile and played with the sandy brown locks that barely hit his chin. “I think it’s pretty good,” he said.
She shot him a look. “How about, ‘Darla, you’re a flipping rock star.’ ”
After ringing him up at the register, Colin left a big tip and walked out onto the square, relieved to inhale a rush of cold air and embrace the wide open.
“Colin?” Maddy, who’d been leaving the police station, came walking toward him, wearing a quizzical expression on her face. “Is that you? Oh my God, you look amazing.”
He felt his cheeks turn red and said, “I got a haircut.”
“I’ll say. Owen didn’t do that, did he?”
“Owen’s fishing,” Colin said. “His daughter, Darla, did it.”
“You’re kidding.” She stepped back to take it all in. “It’s a beautiful cut. And I love how she did the goatee thing . . . It’s so GQ. What prompted this sudden makeover?”
He shrugged, his ears turning hot from the praise. “I was starting to look like a bum.”
“You look like a movie star now,” Maddy said, moving in closer so she could brush at his hair with her fingers.
“Hey, don’t get me on the wrong side of the law.” As if on cue, the police chief walked out onto the square.
“Honey,” Maddy called to her husband. “Come look at this gorgeous haircut Owen’s daughter just gave Colin.”
Rhys Shepard bobbed his chin at Colin in greeting.
“Doesn’t it look wonderful?” she prodded.
“Sexy,” Rhys said, and Colin had to stifle a grin. The chief turned to his wife. “You going back to the inn?”
“Just for an hour. I promise.” Rhys clucked over his pregnant wife like a mother hen. Colin was glad to see them happy. Maddy was one of the few people he counted as a friend, and when he’d first met her she’d been going through a rough patch.
“Colin,” she said, “I know that Sophie and Mariah already invited you, but I want to make sure you know how much we’d love to have you and your family for Thanksgiving. Emily is cooking. You don’t want to miss out on that.”
He smiled at her. “Thanks. I appreciate you including me. My family can’t make it, so I’m going to Harlee’s.”
“They’re not coming?” Maddy asked, surprised.
“No.” He looked up at the dark clouds that filled the sky. “They’re afraid that with the storm moving in, they won’t be able to get out.”
“Harlee, huh?” Maddy’s expression grew smug.
“Don’t read anything into it, Maddy. She’s my neighbor. That’s all.”
Pretty soon, he knew, the news of him having dinner with Harlee would be spread all over town. That’s the way it worked here. Even though he was only a bit player in Nugget, people were hard up for gossip. And Harlee, as pretty as she was, managed to draw a lot of attention.
“I’m not reading anything into it. Nor am I reading anything into the fact that you got that beautiful haircut.” She continued to grin in that self-satisfied, knowing way that made Colin feel like the liar he was.
“Don’t mind her.” Rhys came to Colin’s defense. “It’s hormones.”
“I better get going,” Colin said, looking up at the sky again, trying to gauge how long he had before the next dump of snow.
He wanted to bring a bouquet of flowers to tomorrow’s dinner and the pickings in Nugget were slim to none. There was a small market in Graeagle that sold nice arrangements, so he jumped on the highway and headed to the neighboring town. At least there, they had their own gossip. No one would care who he bought flowers for.
And if he decided to stock up on condoms for the long winter, no one would care about that either.
Harlee’s parents had made it as far as Donner Pass before turning back to the Bay Area. They’d forgotten chains and the roads were too treacherous to drive without them. It looked like it would just be Colin and her for dinner. And she’d made enough for an army.
She took away two place settings from the table, and replaced the silly cornucopia she’d bought at the Nugget Market with candlesticks, and lit them. May as well have a little ambience, since it would just be the two of them. Outside, the snow came down in buckets. Harlee had never seen so many flurries.
The sound of Colin’s truck engine pulled Harlee to the front door. Max bounded out of the passenger seat and covered her face with kisses as she bent down to hug him. Colin came bearing gifts too. A big bunch of mums, sunflowers, Gerber daisies, and roses. A bottle of Zinfandel and a jug of cider.
“Oh my goodness, Colin.” He’d gone to so much trouble.
“I didn’t know what to bring.”
When he handed her the flowers, Harlee reeled back in surprise. “You cut your hair . . . and your beard.” He still had scruff. A short, boxed beard, like Ryan Gosling. She’d thought he’d rocked the Grizzly Adams look, but now he was drop-dead gorgeous. And younger than she’d originally pegged him for, definitely closer to her age.
She walked around to check out the back of his hair. “Who did it?”
“Huh?” He turned around to face her. That’s when she noticed the dimple in his right cheek.
“Your hair. Who cut it?”
“Darla,” he said, definitely uncomfortable with the attention.
She moved in closer to brush back a stray lock. “You look amazing, Colin. And you smell good too.” He had on a woodsy cologne. And he’d dressed up in a crisp button-down shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans.
“You look good too.” They just stood there together, gawking at each other. Well, maybe it was just Harlee gawking. But God, was he delicious.
“I’m sorry your parents couldn’t make it,” he said. “And thanks for letting me bring Max.”
“Of course. I love Max. I hope you brought your appetite.” She moved into the kitchen, where she rummaged through a cupboard for a vase for the flowers and checked the oven. The turkey was just about done. She’d let it rest while making the gravy.
“What made you decide on this?” She pointed to his hair and beard.
He shrugged. “I wanted something lower maintenance.”
“Darla did a great job.” Harlee kept stealing peeks at him. “She’s having a difficult time making a go of the barbershop. Besides you, Griffin, and a few kids, she hasn’t had any clients to speak of. Hopefully you’ll be a walking advertisement for her.”
“I did notice the place was empty,” Colin said, taking the oven mitts away from her and hefting the bird onto the counter. “I thought the shop would be buzzing the day before Thanksgiving.”
“Colin, you think it has anything to do with . . . How do I say this?”
“The blue hair, the feathers, the dagger nails.” He smirked.
“Yeah. That.”
“No.” Colin shook his head. “I think it has everyt
hing to do with Nugget’s reluctance to accept change. When Maddy and Nate rehabbed the Lumber Baron, the town fought them tooth and nail. Now the townspeople have come to terms with the inn. I think most people really like it. The same will eventually happen with Darla. But in the meantime, Nugget is hanging on to Owen.”
“It would be great if you could talk her up.” Harlee whisked together a roux for the gravy and slowly added turkey drippings to the pan.
“I’m not much of a talker-upper. But I’ll do what I can.”
Once the gravy was done, Harlee checked the Brussels sprouts roasting in the oven. The potatoes had been kept warm on the stovetop. All she had to do was carve the turkey and they could sit down to eat.
This would be the smallest Thanksgiving in Harlee’s history. Usually her whole family gathered, and often the Robertses invited friends. The kitchen always bustled with people and the football game played in the background, which reminded Harlee to turn on her iPod. She knew Colin liked music and had made a playlist.
“What do you want me to do?” Colin asked.
She took another look at his chiseled face and thought, Me. Fat chance of that happening, given his past standoffish behavior. “You want to pour us drinks?”
“Sure.” He opened the bottle of wine and let it breathe and poured himself some of the cider.
She put serving bowls and platters on the dining table and told Colin to dig in. No sense standing on ceremony with just the two of them. She put a bowl out for Max with dog food and turkey drippings and she could hear the dog scarfing in the mudroom. Before Colin sat down, he stoked the fire.
“This looks great, Harlee.”
“A lot of food for just the two of us.” She surveyed the spread. “But I’ll send you home with plenty of leftovers. Turkey sandwiches for the next week.”
As he reached for the bread, his sleeve inched up and Harlee saw the quincunx tattoo again. He saw her looking at it and said, “Don’t ask about it, Harlee.”
She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay. I was just curious, because it’s so different.”
His face softened. “Is there anything you’re not curious about?”
When it came to him, she was curious about everything. “How come you’re single?”
He let out a breath. “Because I like being alone.” Harlee noted the emphasis on “alone.”
“Why are you single?” His gaze heated as his eyes moved over her sweater dress.
“San Francisco is a tough town for single women,” she said. “All the really good men are gay. The others are either tech nerds or unctuous hipsters. And the one thing I’ve learned from DataDate is you can’t trust any of them.”
She served herself up more cranberry sauce. In her family she was the only one who ate it. “So you’ve never been married or in a long-term relationship?”
“Nope,” he said, proceeding to inhale everything on his plate and going for seconds.
“What about . . . the uh . . . physical part?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Sex? Is that what you’re asking me about? I have sex, Harlee.”
Just not with her. “I’m sorry, it’s not my business.”
His mouth quirked. “Since when has that stopped you, Lois Lane? What about the reporter guys at your work?” She got the impression he didn’t really want to know but was trying to put her on the spot, the way she had him.
“A few,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong; I dated.”
For a minute she saw something flicker in his expression. Maybe sadness, but it was so fleeting she couldn’t make it out. “Oh, I almost forgot. My mom sold all three of the pieces you sent her. She wants more, Colin, especially for Christmas. She’s thinking about selling one of the log beds. That way she can do it up with handmade quilts and pillows.”
“I could do that,” he said. “Maybe I should deliver it, save her on shipping. I could also set it up for her.”
“Ooh, if you do that I’d like to go with you. We could stay at my folks’ house.” She got the feeling he hadn’t liked that idea. The man was so damn prickly.
When they finished dinner, Harlee insisted that they leave the dishes and relax in front of the fire with a slice of pie. They were halfway into it when he got a call on his cell phone. Harlee figured it must be his sister to wish him a happy Thanksgiving. But she could hear a man’s voice on the other end and it didn’t sound good.
When he got off the phone he said, “I’ve got to go, Harlee.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Sophie and Mariah took some of their dinner guests over to the new house to show them the progress. It turns out the roof is leaking. Snow’s getting inside. I’ve gotta see what I can do to cover it until Monday. I’ll come back afterward to help you clean up.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Harlee waved her hand dismissively. “Darla is planning to come over. She’ll help. I’ll keep Max for you.”
“I hate to leave this way. That was the best meal I’ve ever had. I mean it, Harlee.”
“I’m glad you liked it. I’ll have the leftovers packed up for you when you pick up Max.” She ran to get his jacket and watched as he put it on. “Thanks for the flowers, the wine, and cider.”
“You’re welcome.” He took off out the door, but came back a few minutes later. She’d already begun doing dishes but could hear him in the foyer.
“Harlee,” he called. “Come here.”
She returned, thinking that maybe he couldn’t start his truck. That’s when he pulled her hard against him and kissed her. A heart-melting kiss, raw and sensual, that went on forever and ever. She could feel his need pressing against her and his low growl of pleasure made her cradle his neck to drive him deeper. His tongue, tangling with hers, made her hot as molten lava. If not for the strong arms that held her, Harlee would’ve wound up on the floor, in a puddle. Colin pulled her even closer and she could feel his heart pounding. In that single, solitary moment, Harlee had never felt more desired—or more wonderful.
Then, just like that, he stopped kissing her, let her go, and left.
Chapter 11
On Monday Sophie came into the barbershop. Even eight months’ pregnant, Darla thought she looked stunning. Whoever did her hair was a true artist.
“Hi, Soph. What can I do for you?” she asked, figuring that she was passing out some Neighborhood Watch pamphlets. Sophie and Maddy had organized the merchants on the square ever since last winter when some dope dealer terrorized the town.
“Maddy said you were selling hair-care products.” Sophie turned to the large set of display shelves and blinked. “And boy, are you ever. This is good stuff, Darla.”
“Thanks.” Word was finally spreading. “What are you looking for?” Darla came off the barber chair where she’d been clipping in an I Dream of Jeannie ponytail. She’d dyed it pink to match her latest hair color.
“Shampoo and conditioner. But nothing with parabens.” Her hand went unconsciously to her belly and she looked at Darla skeptically, like she probably didn’t know what parabens were.
Darla felt Sophie’s hair. “Very healthy. But you’re prone toward oily, aren’t you?”
“You’ve got it.”
Darla rummaged through the shelves until she came up with two red bottles. “These will regulate your extra sebum without damaging your hair. There are no preservatives in it, so you don’t have to worry about hurting your baby’s development.”
“This is wonderful,” Sophie said, obviously impressed. “It’ll save me a trip to Reno. And Darla, I saw Colin today. What a fantastic job you did. The man has been talking you up like you’re the Second Coming.”
“He has?” It didn’t seem like Colin’s style, since the man barely spoke. Maybe her career was looking up after all.
Sophie paid for the shampoo and left. Woo-hoo! Her first sale. She was dancing around the shop when Griffin came in.
“What up, Pink?”
“I just made a sale. Sixty bucks in shampoo
and conditioner. And my dad thought the products would be a big flop.”
Griff smiled. “Your dad is driving me batshit. He and the mob won’t let the bait thing go.”
“What bait thing?”
“They want me to sell fish bait at the gas station. They think it’s the best idea since the Snuggie.”
She laughed. “Just humor them. Tell them there’s a world shortage on night crawlers. What did you do for Thanksgiving?”
“I went to McCreedy Ranch. Emily killed it with her deep-fried turkey. There were a ton of people over there, including your boyfriend, Wyatt.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. Did Lina go?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing trouble in Romper Room paradise. Darla didn’t think the girl was old enough to vote.
“Uh, she’s dissatisfied with our arrangement.” he said.
“And what’s that?”
“Friends.”
“With privileges?” Darla arched a brow.
“No. She’s too young. I want her to get the full college experience, not have a boyfriend waiting in the wings. But I don’t like making her unhappy. She’s important to me.”
Ah, Griffin was one of the good ones. “What are you planning to do?”
“Stand firm. Luckily, her brother will kill both of us if we start something. I hear he’s a good shot.”
Everyone knew the police chief was a good shot. Last winter, Chief Shepard killed that meth dealer. Darla had lived in Sacramento then, but even she had heard the details. It had been the biggest news in Nugget since the eighteen hundreds, when the Donner Party got stranded in the Sierra and turned to cannibalism to keep from starving to death.
Griff changed the subject. “What did you do for Thanksgiving?”
“We had dinner with Ethel and Stu, Dink, and Grace and Earl from the Nugget feed store.”
“So pretty much the entire Nugget Mafia?”
“Yep,” Darla said, chuckling. “Afterward I went over to Harlee’s. Colin left before I got there because of an emergency at Sophie and Mariah’s construction site.”
