Barber Shop Ink: Always Blue in Memphis

by Penny Blush

  "So, what did you want to show me?"

  Chapter 12 Memphis

  “So, what did you want to show me?” I asked with my arms firmly crossed. I couldn’t trust myself not to reach out and touch her.

  I thought Hedge was beautiful last night when I held her asleep in my arms. She probably thought that she looked a ‘hot mess’, wearing a mammoth hoodie, no makeup, her hair free and wild. To me she was beautiful. I couldn’t stop staring at her all soft and natural with the lightest dusting of freckles across her cheeks under her eyes. She looked so sweet and vulnerable all I wanted to do was hold her in my arms all night. It took everything in me not to curl up on the couch with her. My arms felt empty with her gone, and my chest hurt from the loss.

  Geez, I may need to hand in my Man Card, getting all sappy over someone that I know nothing about. I mean, we've known each other for less than a day. I didn't even know her real name. She wouldn't tell me! At first, that pissed me off - it’s just a name for fuck’s sake, but she said I had to earn the right to know it.

  Fuck it, game on Sweetness, I love a challenge.

  Hedge changed so much since yesterday. It made me dizzy. She was the most complicated, woman I had ever met. At first, she was this snarky, angry frump when Jax kicked her off the couch. In the space of ten minutes, she changed into a snippy Lycra-clad tween with authority issues snapping and shoving at Jax before storming out of the house. We came back from the bar, and she turned into a Cinderella-Mary Poppins hybrid, weaving her cleaning magic throughout the house. She was relaxed, smart, funny and sassy out by the fire.

  I don't know what it is with this girl, I've known her for less than twenty-four hours, and she has me all twisted. I’m sure that this woman is going to kill me or at the very least get me into a whole lot of trouble

  I may be a romantic at heart, but I just don't have the time to fall in love, which is a bit depressing because I love love. I am a big romantic gesture kind of guy. I'm not afraid to tell people that I love them. I have been known to sit down and get sucked into the romance and drama of a movie inspired by a Nicholas Sparks novel. But once the credits roll on the love story, it's all action all the time. Topping the Man-Reserves up with fighting and explosions and car chases thanks to Bruce, Arnie, Sly and a Die Hard/Terminator/Rambo marathon, because I am a man, a manly man who likes fights and explosions and car chases.

  My life is complicated enough right now; I don't need to complicate it any further by adding a relationship to the mix. Lately, my sex life is just that, sex and nothing else. I meet a girl we hook up and then go our separate ways.

  What I don't do is go getting sappy over some chick, especially one I had just met, where all we had done is talk. It's not even like we had a monumental in-depth conversation where we got to know each other's deepest, darkest secrets. We had just been talking shit, and Jaxon her cousin had been there, but there was just something about her that spoke to me.

  Honestly though, between working at the shop, trying to manage my business and sorting out Pops debt issues, these days I barely have time to eat and sleep let alone get all moon-eyed over my friend’s cousin.

  Seeing Hedge today has me spinning all over again. I got an unobstructed view of the woman for the first time. The woman who, on every other occasion, was consumed by a mountain of clothing but right now she had me quite literally stopped in my tracks.

  I had just walked into Barber Shop Ink after having a shitty morning, dealing with some money issues left behind by my Pops. I loved the man dearly but Jesus Christ he had been dead for over a year and I was still dealing with his debts and the bullshit that came along with them. Grumbling to myself about how I may be debt free just in time for my own funeral when movement in the stockroom caught my eye stopping me mid-step. I stood there like some horny teenager just admiring the view, and what a view, it was outstanding.

  Standing in the middle of my stockroom was a tall, leggy woman dressed in a dark grey singlet dress that hugged the curves of her body. She didn't seem to notice that I was standing there, so I took advantage of the opportunity and let my gaze wander all over her, enjoying the first fun thing to cross my path all day.

  The mystery woman had the most amazing fucking legs, miles and miles of long toned legs. Legs that I wanted to be wrapped around me while I held that firm round ass in my hands.

  I let my eyes travel the swell of her hips, letting my mind wander imagining that it was my hands on her body, not just my eyes. The woman had toned shoulders and arms a slender neck revealed by dark brown hair that was pulled up in a high ponytail. A ponytail that I imagined wrapped around my fist as I slammed into her from behind. I wanted that stellar ass of hers in my hands so that I could truly feel how tight and firm it was, preferably while fucking her hard up against a wall, and just like that I’d gone from zero to horny in sixty seconds.

  Adjusting myself in my pants so that when she turned around, she wouldn’t be able to see how affected I was just from her rear view. It probably wasn’t ideal to announce my presence sporting a boner. Deciding I had stood there long enough staring like a creeper, I readjusted myself and cleared my throat.

  "Excuse me, ma’am, this is a staff only area.”

  “Oh hey,” the woman replied, not bothering to turn around.

  Who the hell did this chick think she was? Acting all casual like she belonged here, I can't deal with some Tattoo-Bunny thinking that because she’s hot, she could be all up in my business. I'd had a shitty day as it was and even though I enjoyed looking at her ass, I was done putting up with bullshit for the day.

  "I'm going to have to ask you to leave," I said starting to get pissed off.

  “Hey Memphis,” she said, turning around. “How are you doing? I've started already. I hope you don't mind. You umm, weren't kidding when you when you said that you need help."

  I was dumbstruck. I just stood there staring. The woman was absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was pulled back from her face in some fancy plait thing that she styled like a Mohawk into a ponytail high on her head that gave me an unobstructed view of her exquisite face. Big, bright midnight blue eyes looked at me expectantly. Long, dark eyelashes swept her high cheekbones when she looked down at the Tablet she was holding. Full plump lips smiled at me. Why did she seem so familiar? My brain caught up with what she had said, and then it clicked.

  "Hedge?"

  “Hey,” she smiled which made her midnight blues shine.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognise you,” I said shocked - and then my mouth took over before my brain kicked in - "with clothes on." Oh, my God, did I just say that out loud? "Err sorry, that's not what I meant," running a hand through the back of his hair, trying to figure out what to say to make this less awkward. "It's just that the last time I saw you, you were being swallowed by men's clothing and you know you didn't look …."

  "Human? It's Okay" she laughed.

  I was trying hard to continue being a gentleman, paying attention to what she was saying and not let my eyes wander all over her body. I caught her saying something about her not being at her best.

  Not at her best? What was wrong with this woman? Even though she was being swallowed alive by men's clothing, I could tell that she was beautiful. Yes, she was a hot mess when I first met her, but out by the fire she was laid back, natural and spoke her mind.

  I loved a woman who was happy in her skin, free to be herself and didn't feel that she need to be covered in heavy makeup, wearing clothing that made her uncomfortable, acting like a ditz because that's what they think a man wants. Don't get me wrong I love a woman all dolled up as much as the next guy, but I also love a woman's natural beauty.

  She was saying something to me about all the things that she found wrong with the shop, as she waved the tablet at me. Did that mean that she was taking the job? Does this mean she's staying? That means I'll be able to see more of her. I shuffled my feet, clearing my throat because the thought of seeing more of her had turned me into a twelve-year-old th
at had just been passed a note by the pretty girl in class.

  "So, are you taking the job?"

  Please tell me that you're taking the job. Please tell me that I didn't sound as desperate as I thought I did.

  "You might want to see what I've come up with first. You know before you commit to me," Hedge's eyes flared like she had just realised what she had said. I'm glad I'm not the only one who had lost the ability to filter my thoughts.

  “I’m pretty sure that I could handle you.”

  Why!?

  Why did all my inner thoughts come out around this woman?

  I could hear Captain Kirk yelling, “Shield’s at maximum,” to the mini Enterprise crew running my brain, ‘cos I sure as shit was no longer in control.

  "I'm sure you could," she whispered. Did her voice just get all husky? Apparently, she was feeling whatever the hell was happening here too. "Umm, so, yeah do you want to go into the kitchen or wherever and go over everything? I think you should go over everything first. So, that you know everything you need to know, to see if we're on the same page."

  I'm sure all the awkwardness, flirting and heat zinging back and forth between us, was not just in my sex-deprived head. I'm positive she feels something here too.

  "I'm a thousand percent certain we are." Internal voice, DAMN IT! Come on Brain I thought we were friends. "Yes, sure sounds good."

  I couldn't help it but slowly run my eyes over her body again. Christ Almighty, Hedge is HOT!

  "After you," she said, waving me before her.

  I knew exactly, what she was doing. She was totally checking out my ass, I could feel her eyes caressing me. After the ogling, I had given her; she could look all she wanted.

  Hell, Hedge could touch if she wanted.

  Sitting at the kitchen table, Hedge started by explaining, "first of all, I just wanted to reiterate that I am an obsessive-compulsive organiser. I make lists and spreadsheets and colour code everything.”

  "Okay, go on," I said, and Hedge began by explaining once again that she has organisation down to a fine art. My Grammes was a Virgo, so I knew what I was in for when dealing with the organisational skills of a Virgo.

  My Grammes was the most organised person I knew. “A place for everything and everything in its place,” she used to say. Not that her home was museum or anything, it was a warm loving lived in home. My brothers and I moved in with my grandparents when I was about five when our parents decided that they couldn't cope with having kids. I don't even know what happened to them. They just dropped us off one day saying that they had to do something and never came back.

  My grandparents stepped up and took over looking after us. They became parents again to Mark and Jake, my older twin brothers, and me. Having three growing boys in the house, Grams had to be organised and ran the house with loving military precision, with everything scheduled, written down and marked off.

  "Can I please ask you a question?" Hedge asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. I nodded for her to go on, "what's the story behind Barber Shop Ink?"

  "The building belonged to my Grandparents. Pops had his barber shop here for forty years before he died."

  I explained that my brothers and I were willed the building that the barber shop was in by Pops after his death. My brothers being career military men had no use for the shop, so it became mine. I had been coming to the barber shop to help Pops for as long as I could remember. I wasn't interested in learning to become a barber, I just like hanging out with him and I would sweep up the hair and chat with the customers. Because of that, I couldn't bring myself to sell the building. I had been tattooing for years, working for other people and after Pops had died, I took the opportunity and decided to open my own shop. I changed things just enough to make the shop work as a tattoo parlour.

  "Okay, thank you," she said, giving me a small smile, "that gives me something to work with, I figured there was a history."

  I had spent so much time at the barber shop when I was a kid that I knew every tile, corner and cobweb in the place. But this was my Pops’ place; it always was and always would be. I can still see him and hear him here even though he’s long gone. Thinking of Pops always made me feel a cross between nostalgic and sad. Hedge must have sensed my mood and changed the subject.

  So, I had a quick look at your accounting software, and I'm sorry to tell you this, but it is way out of date, like years out of date. The program that you currently have isn't loaded with the current tax rules and is not tracking payroll correctly. See here?"

  “Where?” I asked amazed that she thought I could see what she was pointing to, clear across the room.

  How the hell did she think I was supposed to see whatever the hell she was talking about all the way on the other side of the kitchen?

  “Right here, see ….” She once again pointed to the screen.

  Okay fuck this, this is officially ridiculous! I can't see shit with her being on the other side of the table. Also, I can't concentrate on what she's saying, ‘cos every time she sits forward to point to whatever the hell she is talking about; it caused her cleavage to push up and almost spill out of her dress. Every time I looked up, I got an eye full of purple and grey animal print covered, creamy skinned, full D's. Hedge was stacked, she had the most amazing rack, but when you're trying to be all professional and businesslike, having boobs in your face, praying to the God of Dudes that the flimsy material won't hold, well it was very distracting. I had to do something about this before I forgot my manners and this half wood I was currently sporting turned into a full-blown monster table lifting erection.

  I stretched out my legs until my booted feet met the legs of the chair that Hedge was sitting on, locking my feet around the legs of her seat. I started to drag her towards me.

  “EEEEK….” She squealed, “What are you doing?”

  I pushed the table out of the way so that she wouldn’t crash into it, and kept dragging her chair until she was nestled nicely between my legs.

  “Hi there,” I couldn’t help smirking “Hedge, how am I supposed to see what you’re pointing at on that tiny screen from all the way over the other side of the table?”

  Hedge lifted her head until she finally looked me in the eye. The expression on her face changed from being shocked at being dragged across the kitchen, to being stunned at what she had seen when she looked me in the eye.

  Okay here it comes, the standard freak-out. Hedge had spent the last fifteen minutes looking anywhere but directly in my eyes. My unusual eyes are always weirding people out. My Grammes always told me that they were special and unique, a way that my parents will always be with me. One eye ocean blue from my father, one eye chocolate brown from my mother, it was one of the only things that my parents had given me, and all they did was just freaked people out.

  “Whoa,” she whispered.

  Okay, that was not what I had expected. I was ready for the regular comments and reaction and then my required responses when people notice that my eyes are two separate and distinct colours.

  Yes, to answer your questions before you even ask them, I am aware that my eyes are two unusual colours.

  No, I don't see differently out of each eye.

  No, it doesn't affect my vision.

  No, it's not a handicap.

  Yes, they are distracting.

  People are idiots.

  It's like mentioning how tall I am.

  Yes, I am aware that I am six-foot-six, and yes, it's freaking tall. No, I don't have to duck going through doorways …Mostly.

  If everyone were the same, the world would be a boring place. I like that we are all different, but people, there is no need to make a big deal and constantly go on about it.

  Again, Hedge caught me off guard by doing the total opposite of what I expected. She sounded more awed than freaked out. Seriously, this woman is going to confuse the hell out of me before killing me.

  "The same," she whispered, “it’s a sign.”

  I couldn't take her looking at m
e like that anymore, she held my gaze like she was trying to stare into my soul. It was too intense, no one ever looks at me like that, they always looked anywhere but my eyes. Once they got over the initial shock, my eyes were just too freaky for people to look at and they would avoid eye contact. But not Hedge, she locked eyes with me and maintained eye contact.

  I leant forward placing a hand on the back of her chair, "What was that?" I asked, staring into her eyes.

  Her eyes that were an intense midnight blue and that sparkled as they searched my face. God this woman was going to be the death of me. She was gorgeous, and I could look at her all day, getting lost in those eyes.

  Being this close to her I couldn't help but smell her delicious scent, last night it had been disguised by the smoke from the fire, but not today. Today I got the full, untainted version.

  Holy-boner-inducing-intoxicating-smell Batman!!!

  Hedge smelled magnificent. She smelled like a like an ocean breeze mixed with a tropical cupcake, all fresh sweet and fruity. I wanted to kiss, lick and suck every inch of her starting with the spot behind her ear to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

  “Hedge, Sweetness you’re staring,” I said attempting to distract myself from doing the same.

  “I am?” She asked, slightly confused.

  “Umm-hmm.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just your eyes…”

  Here we go. “Don’t worry about it. I get that all the time, people staring I mean. I know they’re weird.”

  “No Memphis, it’s not weird,” Hedge raised her hand to my cheek. Her hand sent a zing of awareness through me. I had to suppress a moan as she started lightly rubbing her thumb under my eye. “It’s called Heterochromia Iridium. It's not weird at all. They're beautiful." Our eyes had locked moments before she dropped her hand whispering, "mirror image.”

  What the fuck just happened?

  What the hell did that mean, mirror image?

  What sign?

  I studied her face for a moment longer, before leaning back in my chair crossing my arms again so that I wouldn't reach out and touch her. Okay, it was time to bring this back around to being professional and not wondering what she had meant and what her amazing smelling skin would taste like, I tilted my chin at the tablet screen between us.