by Gary, Codi
CHASE TREPASSO HAD thought a city of 19,000 people was small, but the culture shock of Rock Canyon’s barely 4,000 citizens was crazy. It was like Mayberry married the NRA and they had a baby: that would be Rock Canyon. He’d laughed the first time he’d walked into the liquor store and saw that you could buy a gun with your beer.
Moving here had been on a whim. He’d been looking to sell his tattoo parlor in Elko, Nevada, and relocate, so he’d grabbed his map and started searching. When his finger had fallen on Rock Canyon, he’d checked out the real estate and the town, figuring a little small-town charm was just what he needed. That first month of getting everything set up had been hectic, but it was worth it for the peace. Now he was able to work on the next issue of Destructo Boy, the comic book series he’d started when he was eighteen, which was due to his editor later that month.
It was a benefit and a curse, that peace.
He’d spent a lot of time at the parlor, or at one of the local haunts, Buck’s Shot Bar, networking and making a few friends, but he was finding it hard to break into a new town. Especially one as close-knit as Rock Canyon.
Despite the size of it, the people who lived there were the same as every other town he’d lived in. The same narrow-minded older generation, same tough college kids wanting something “cool” on their biceps, and the same women looking for a man to take care of them.
He’d tried to avoid those types by going out with a few bad girls, or as bad as they got in a town like this, but all of them had been the same. Girls who drank too much, dressed a little wild, and were up for anything. But in the end they’d all wanted the one thing he had no desire to give: commitment. He just didn’t seem to have it in him. He couldn’t even believe he’d actually bought a house in Rock Canyon. He’d always rented, but something about the old farmhouse had spoken to him. Still, just because he was thinking about settling for a while didn’t mean he wanted to settle down for good. Especially not with any of the girls he’d dated so far.
Chase tried to stop thinking about his love life and take his pool shot, but then Katie Connors walked into Buck’s Shot Bar, her honey-blond hair curling over the shoulders of her red short-sleeved top.
She smiled at Grant Henderson, the bartender, and said something to him before moving on to one of the booths. Katie was put together real nice: just enough up top to balance out her bottom half, and with hair so thick and long Chase couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands buried in it.
The first time he’d met her, he’d been very attracted to her, but he knew her type. An angelic good girl on the outside but nasty and self-righteous on the inside. He avoided girls like her for a reason, and so, after handing her his card, he’d moved on.
Not for very long, though. In a small town like Rock Canyon, it was hard to avoid someone, and Chase found himself bumping into Katie everywhere: at the grocery store, the gas station, the coffee shop, and especially at Buck’s. It also hadn’t taken him long to learn that whatever his preconceived notions had been, there wasn’t a mean bone in Katie’s body. He’d watched her help an older lady out with her groceries, just to be nice, and when someone’s dog had been running down the middle of Main Street, Katie had rescued it. He only knew that because he’d watched her crouch in the middle of the road, pat her legs and call the mutt to her. After that, he had doubled his efforts to stay clear of her. A good girl with a kind heart? Both were too easy to break.
A couple weeks ago, he’d joined Katie for a game of pool with her friends Steph and Jared, telling himself that no one else was playing, but when she’d missed her shot, he’d been an idiot and offered to show her how to make it. The smell of her hair and the way her butt had fit back against him had given him an hour-long stiffy and an even longer conversation in his head about why getting involved with Katie Connors was a really bad idea.
Despite his resolve to ignore her, he’d caught himself studying her today when he’d dropped his check off. The way she bit her lip when she’d obviously had something to say to the cranky old hag, Mrs. Andrews, but held it back, even when she was irritated. He’d seen her do it before with others and wondered why she kept it in. She was never obvious with her annoyance, but it was there, just a slight tightening in her smile. Did she keep quiet because she wanted everyone to like her? Because they did. People in Rock Canyon might walk all over her, but they held Katie Connors up as all that was goodness and kindness.
He’d bet his chopper, though, that Katie might be all cool sweetness on the outside, but she was a firecracker on the inside.
And boy, had he fantasized about Katie Connors letting that sharp tongue loose and maybe using it on him. In some real fun ways.
She sat down out of his view and he took his pool shot, wondering why he was so fascinated by a small-town hairdresser who bottled up her emotions like a shaken soda pop.
’Cause she’s out of your league, and that makes it all the more interesting. You always want what you can’t have.
When the game ended, Chase headed back up to the bar and noticed her doodling on a napkin while she munched on some chili cheese fries. The way her eyebrows knit together in concentration made him want to read what was on that scrap of paper. Something told him it wouldn’t be her grocery list. He leaned over the bar and asked Grant, “Hey, what’s Katie drinking?”
“Sorry, dude, but there’s no way in hell you’re making it with Katie Connors,” Grant said.
“Maybe I just want to talk,” Chase offered.
Grant snorted and made a clear drink with a lime wedge and some leaves, then handed it to him. “Uh-huh. Well, whatever floats your boat, dude, but if I was buying Katie a drink, it wouldn’t be because I was looking for conversation.”
“Thanks, man,” Chase said, taking the glass. “Can I get a beer too?”
Grant handed him the beer. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”
THE MOJITO HAD not improved Katie’s mood. She shoved another chili fry in her mouth and thought of how bleak her life looked. It wasn’t like Rock Canyon was swimming with eligible men who had steady incomes and nice manners. Her mother had always put a lot of stock in a man with manners. Jimmy had always been polite to her mother, and she had never said an unkind word against him, except that he was charming. Her mother’s tone had been less than complimentary when she’d said it and, looking back, she had probably been trying to tell her something. Even Ted Bundy had been charming.
She doodled on her napkin, her thoughts dwelling on her mother. Her strong, capable mother, who had raised her by herself after her dad had left when she was two. As far as she knew, they had never divorced, and her mother had never considered remarrying. She’d seemed fine alone, holding on to her manners and her morals like a security blanket.
Katie wondered what her mother would say about everything that had been happening the last few years. When she’d lost her to breast cancer three years ago, Katie had felt broken and lost. Her mother had been her rock. Her cheerleader. Her conscience.
Had her mother ever gotten tired of being good, tired of doing the right thing? If Katie could do anything she wanted, without repercussions . . .
Struck by an inspiring idea, she put the pen to her napkin and started making a list of the things she had always wanted to try or had always been told she shouldn’t do.
One. Get purple streaks in my hair.
When she was sixteen, she’d wanted to dye her hair purple. Her mother had told her no, that it was vulgar and a fad.
She bit the end of the pen and remembered the night after graduation, when she’d gone with all of her friends to Twin Falls and everyone had gotten a tattoo but her because she was terrified her mom would see it.
Two. Get a tattoo.
In ninth grade, when her friend Brittney Richards had stolen a pair of cheap sunglasses from Hall’s Market and been caught, her mother had told her she couldn’t hang out with Brittney anymore. Katie had tried to explain that Brittney had only taken the glasses be
cause she and Steph had dared her to, but her mother hadn’t relented.
Three. Steal something.
On and on the list went, her mother’s voice ringing in her head with “Ladies don’t do this” or “Good girls don’t do that.” She had to unfold the napkin just to make more room.
“You looked like you could use another.”
Katie’s head snapped up from her list and she covered the napkin quickly. “Hi, Chase. What are you doing here?”
Stupid question. Why else did someone go to a bar? To drink.
He slid into the seat across from her and passed her the mojito. “Shop’s closed Mondays. Didn’t feel like hanging out at home.”
“Oh. Well, thanks for the drink, but I probably shouldn’t. I need to head out soon so I can get up early. You know what they say about worms and birds.” She could tell she sounded like she was rambling, but she couldn’t help it. It happened when she got nervous.
“So you have to be up early, which begs the question . . . What brings you here?” he asked.
“I didn’t have any food in my house and didn’t feel like grocery shopping.” She tried to act casual, but the way his eyes kept shifting toward her hand was making her heart pound with anxiety.
“So you chose to come to a bar on a Monday night?” he said, his dark brow arched.
“They have great chili fries and I was in the mood for something greasy and really bad for me,” she said defensively.
He nodded toward her hand with a grin that was nothing short of evil. “What were you writing? You looked like you were thinking really hard.”
“Just my . . . to-do list. I have a lot of things to do for the Extravaganza. I was trying to remember everything, but this mojito’s really getting to me. Besides, my handwriting is so messy, I can’t even read what I wrote anyway.” She swallowed and let out a nervous giggle.
“Huh. Well, if you’re feeling a little tipsy, I could finish writing it for you.”
She watched his hand creep across the table and yelped in terror. “No thanks! I think I’ll just save it for tomorrow, you know, go after it with a clear head.”
She started to slide the napkin closer to her, but quick as a snake, Chase pulled the napkin out from under her hand. Panic rose up, tightening her throat, and she cried hoarsely, “No!”
But Chase had already brought it under his nose, and those teasing eyes shifted as he scanned the first line. “‘Number one. Get purple streaks in my hair.’”
She wanted to die. She wanted to curl up in a ball and die a slow, horrible death. Grabbing her purse, she threw some bills down for Grant before bolting for the door. She couldn’t just sit there and listen to him read off each idiotic idea that had come into her head after one mojito.
Note to self: Next time you decide to make a crazy list of things you want to try someday, do it at home.
CHASE WAS TOO startled by Katie’s abrupt departure to stop her. He hadn’t meant to upset her; he’d only been playing around. He looked over the list again, and could see why she was so spooked. A surprised smile spread across his face as he read:
One. Get purple streaks in my hair.
Two. Get a tattoo.
Three. Steal something.
Four. Say the first thing that comes to mind.
Five. Go skinny-dipping.
Six. Go to a sex shop.
Seven. Try handcuffs.
Eight. Tell Jimmy exactly what I think of him.
Nine. Drink and flirt too much.
Ten. Have a one-night stand.
Chase folded up the list and put it in his pocket. Who would have thought little Miss Play by the Rules would make such a naughty list?
Smiling as he left the bar, he decided that first thing tomorrow he would call K.C.’s Salon and get an appointment with her. This was the perfect chance to satisfy his curiosity, and get over his crazy attraction to the uptight blonde.
If the only way he could get her undivided attention, and pitch his master plan to help her complete any and all of the items on her list, was to get a thirty-dollar haircut, then so be it. Besides, he couldn’t wait to see prim-and-proper Katie Connors get a little hot under her collar.
Chapter Two
* * *
KATIE ENJOYED HER little salon, loved the laughs that came from being in a room with a bunch of women. She’d rented a chair in a larger salon for years, which hadn’t been cheap but was a lot less than owning her own place. The problem with renting a chair was that you had no say about who would be renting next to you, and Katie had gotten tired of the backstabbing and client stealing. She wanted to be able to choose who she worked with. She’d always planned on buying a salon someday, but she’d also planned on being married before that ever happened.
So she’d saved every tip, every extra penny to pay for a dream wedding that never happened. Instead of using her money on the perfect dress, she’d put a down payment on her house and rented the salon space from Maeve Kettle, who’d done the rinses and styles of the ladies of Rock Canyon for forty years. Katie had done some painting and updated all the equipment, but it had been hard finding beauticians and manicurists who wanted to work in such a small shop, let alone a small community. After six months, though, she had two other stylists and two manicurists who were all easygoing and worked well together, and she’d just hired Kitty the month before to help organize their schedules. Overall, K.C.’s Salon was doing great.
Katie had a pretty light day on Tuesday and was just finishing up a cut and highlight when Chase walked in. Ducking down and slinking off to the storage room seemed like the best plan, but she couldn’t leave Daphne O’Neal’s hair wet, and with her luck, someone would ask her what she was doing, thus drawing more attention to herself. She didn’t know how she would face him, though, knowing he had probably read every word on her list and laughed at her expense. She was mortified and yet ticked off that he had the nerve to poke his nose into her business.
When Chase caught her gaze, he smiled with so much sexy arrogance her cheeks burned.
“Be right with you!” she called shakily.
Turning her back on him to finish blow-drying Daphne’s hair, her eyes kept straying to his reflection in the mirror. He had on a pair of loose jeans and a blue T-shirt tight enough to show off some very drool-worthy pecs. Jimmy had been short and stocky, whereas Chase was tall, with lean muscle. He leaned over to say something to Kitty, and Katie noticed that every female eye seemed to be watching him, and if the way he flashed that pearly white smile around was any indication, the cocky jerk knew it.
Bigheaded jerk. Showing up here with his charm and his hotness, all to tease her. Well, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him fluster her. Turning off the dryer, she smiled at Daphne and said, “You’re set. See you back in a couple of months. Make sure the shampoo and conditioner you’re using is for color-treated hair, okay?”
Daphne turned her head from left to right and gushed, “Of course, Katie. You do such a good job on my hair. I love it!”
Katie smiled, although her eyes were on the hunk of juicy male resting against the reception desk, watching her every move. Turning away from the mirror and his blatant perusal, Katie grabbed her broom and started her post-appointment cleanup. Daphne left her tip on the station desk, and despite her resolve to not let him get under her skin, Katie looked over in time to see Daphne flashing him an inviting smile. Chase just nodded at her, ignoring her disappointment, and turned his unnerving gaze back on Katie. He gave her a knowing grin, and imagining what he must be thinking about, she swept harder.
When she couldn’t stall anymore, she put the small broom back and tried for casual, but it sounded a little squeaky to her ears. “Hey, Chase, what brings you by?”
Kitty, always so helpful, answered, “Oh, Chase is here for a haircut. He called this morning.”
Katie’s nerves went from frazzled to haywired. She eyed the already short strands and could tell that it hadn’t been too long since his last
haircut. “Looks like you just had one.”
“Yeah? I did a few weeks ago.” He stood up and moved closer to her until she had to look up at him. She tried not to think about how good he smelled as he said, “Is it a problem that I like having my hair cut? For me, nothing feels better than having someone’s fingers run through my hair.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Well, almost nothing.”
At his suggestive words, her heart pounded like a hundred hoof beats and she tried to ignore the way his mouth tilted up in a small smile, a smile that said I know exactly what I’m doing and you want me bad, don’t you? The guy thought he was so irresistible.
Well, he kind of is. I mean, between the eyes, chin, and that body, who wouldn’t go a little gaga over him?
How could she be attracted to the man who had taken something so personal from her last night and was here now, teasing her, taunting her with his presence? When had she gone completely cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs and started lusting after any hottie with a body no matter how despicable he may be?
Trying to regain some composure, she said, “Oh well, sure. Come on back. Do you know what you want to have done?”
“Just short on the sides and a little longer up top so I can spike it,” he said, easing into the chair of the washing sink, his lips still twisted in that annoying smirk.
Sliding the cape over him, she tried to focus on her irritation and not on his very nice lips. She turned on the water to hot, slowly decreasing the temperature until it felt good on her skin.
“All right, just let me know if it’s too hot or cold.” She ran her hands through his already short hair and over the skin of his neck, helping him lean back. She relaxed as those gorgeous eyes closed, no longer looking at her like he could see inside her head, and said, “Feel good?”
“Awesome,” he said.
Filling her hand with shampoo, Katie began to work it into his hair, using her fingers to massage the scalp and give gentle tugs on the strands. She leaned closer to him, watching his handsome face soften, and when she heard a small groan escape him as she found the two pressure points on the back of his neck she tried to remember he had read some very personal things about her and as a result, had come to her place of business to mess with her. Only a mean-spirited snake would harass someone he hardly knew.
