by Barbara Lohr
“Thanks, think I need a cup.” But she hated to tear her eyes from the unfolding drama.
Giving Bella his full attention in the mirror, Adam asked, “Now, what would you like this morning?”
Scrunching her shoulders together, Bella whispered, “I don’t know.”
“Well, then. Let’s consider our options.” Like a magician, Adam grabbed a silver cape from behind his station, snapped it open and draped it over her. Pulling her hands out from under it, Bella patted the shiny surface the way she’d pet Pipsqueak.
Adam began to play with her hair. “Would you like bangs? How long do you like your hair to be?” Right now her hair had no particular style, and Harper felt a little embarrassed about that. Usually she braided Bella’s hair, caught it up into a ponytail or let it hang loose with the headband, kind of how she wore her own hair. But maybe Bella’s hair called for a different approach. She could see that from Adam’s expression.
“You have naturally curly hair.” Squeezing handfuls of the hair that had been dubbed a rat’s nest, he let it spring back against his palm. “Did you know that?”
Yes, Harper definitely wanted to conk herself on the head. Bella did have naturally curly hair. What they thought was unruly was really her natural curls, allowed to get kind of scrubby.
“No, I didn't know that,” Bella said in her timid, nasal tone. “Is that good or bad?”
Reaching over to his station, Adam grabbed a big-toothed comb. “Depends on how you look at it. Naturally curly hair can be a lot of fun. You just have to know what to do with it. This morning we’ll learn that secret.” Such a showman.
By that time, Bella had Adam eating out of the palm of her hand. Or was it the other way around?
“Want to do some experimenting after we shampoo and condition your hair?” Adam asked.
When Bella looked to Harper for her opinion, she shrugged. “This is the morning to try some new things, don't you think?”
Adam leaned closer to his new customer and crooned, “We’ll never know until we step out into the unknown, will we?”
Yep, definitely a showman. Mesmerized, Bella gave a slow nod of her head. Adam had become the Pied Piper.
In two shakes, he had her down from the chair and walking with him over to the shampoo bowls where he also had a booster seat in place. “Hey, I didn't know you worked with children in your salon,” Harper murmured as Adam pulled out several expensive-looking bottles.
His lips never moving, he shot back. “I don’t. This is a special case.”
Although Bella looked a little nervous when he lowered her head into the niche of the black bowl, she soon relaxed under the warm water and Adam’s skilled hands. Harper sipped the hazelnut coffee, glad to hand her charge over for just a while. Instead of closing her eyes, Bella stared straight up at the ceiling. “Are those sparkles up there?” she asked while Adam worked up amazing suds with shampoo that smelled like jasmine.
“Sure is, darlin’. I love sparkles.”
“Me too.” The bond had been established. Bella closed her eyes, safe in the hands of a kindred spirit.
Of course, Adam never stopped talking during the entire shampoo. He told her about the superb sushi he'd had the night before. Bella actually asked questions, screwing her face up when she learned sushi was raw fish. Then he launched into the reasons why he’d moved to Savannah. Harper had never heard that story, and she curled up in a soft, black leather armchair while he described his small hometown and a little boy who never fit in. While she listened, it hit Harper that Adam was treating Bella like an adult. The little girl seemed to sense the respect in his voice, her attention never wavering.
When it was time for the conditioner, he poured what looked like liquid silver into his palm. “This is very special stuff.”
If Bella's eyes had been large before, they were now saucers. “What does it do?”
“It makes your curls beautiful.”
“Oh, good,” she whispered. “I need some of that.”
Opening her purse, Harper was relieved to see the case with all her credit cards. She was going to need them.
When Adam wrapped a towel around Bella's head, all you could see were her delicate features peeking out between the enormous black turban and a wide silver cape. She looked like a regal swami giving audience to her subjects. After lifting her down, Adam led her back to his styling chair. Turning toward Harper, he mouthed “So. Adorable.”
“Bella, do you go to school?” Adam asked innocently as he wielded a hair dryer.
She nodded somberly before dropping her eyes. Adam exchanged a look with Harper, giving a barely perceptible shake of his head.
“Do you like your teacher?”
Harper felt relieved when the expression lightened a little. “Oh yeah. Mrs. Davenport's cool.”
“It’s always good to have a cool teacher. What about the other kids? Do you have friends at school?”
Optimism was squeezed from the air when she heaved a sigh big enough to blow out ten birthday candles. “Nope. Not at this school. I’m new.” This would kill Cameron if he heard it. Harper tightened her hold on her coffee cup.
“Ah, huh. I know just how that feels.” Adam looked so crestfallen that Harper thought he might shed a tear or two. “Sometimes you have to work at making friends, Bella. A pain but that’s the way it goes.”
“I guess.” Her eyes were on his hands, so efficient, so gentle as he worked with the tangles that had miraculously become silky.
“Because people don't always like you right away, you know.”
The dark eyes flew to his face. “They don’t?”
Shoulders lifted. “Not always, because they don’t really know you.”
Bella had to think about that for a minute. “I guess so.”
“I mean, you've got to talk to them. You’ve got to do things with them.” Here, Adam glanced over at Harper. “When I first saw Harper dashing in and out of the house next door, she looked like a pretty hot chick. I figured she probably had lots of friends and didn't need any more.”
Bella was hanging on his every word. By this time, Harper had moved to sit in the next station to see what he was doing.
“But everyone needs more friends,” Adam continued. “Even Harper needed more.”
Bella's eyes flew to Harper, and she nodded very seriously. Heck, this was the truth. After she started dating Billy Colton, she wasn't as available for her friends. So when things started to go south with Billy, who could she talk to? One day when she took the trash out, she ended up sobbing out her sad tale to Adam, who was stenciling his name on the garbage cans.
“Sometimes it starts with one smile, one word, one indication that someone really needs you.” By this time, Harper knew the words weren't just for Bella but were also for her. And that was fine.
Turning the hair dryer off and hanging it on a wall hook, Adam grabbed a tall white can, the label scripted in silver. Yes, definitely good that she had those credit cards in her purse. “And here is how we make beautiful curls out of your hair.” With an air of expectancy, Bella sat up straighter.
After shaking the bottle thoroughly, Adam squirted a small bit into his palm and showed it to Bella. “Why do you think they call this whipped cream?”
“Hey, it looks like whipped cream.” She licked her lips. “Can I taste it?”
With a shake of his head Adam said, “Trust me. You do not want to eat this stuff. It’s yucky.” Then he cocked his head to one side. “Just like some people can look beautiful, but they're yucky inside.”
Yes, Adam was waxing eloquent this morning. Harper restrained herself from hugging him.
As the session continued, Bella was gradually given pixie bangs. Her shoulder length hair waved to her shoulders with a magical braid Harper could pull over as a head band some mornings. Watching how it came together, she decided she might try this for herself.
“It's nice when you can do a lot of different things with your hair,” Adam said, standing back and s
tudying his masterpiece. “Harper does all the time, right?”
Bless Bella’s heart, she nodded. But the truth was that Harper had been so exhausted trying to get her business going, she hadn't had time for this kind of fun. That had to change.
“Wait until Daddy sees you,” Harper said as Adam swept the silver cape away. She gave Adam a big hug. “You are the wizard,” she whispered in his ear.
His brows arched. “Oh honey, was there ever any question?”
Bella studied every different angle of her hair in the large three-way mirror in the reception area. Stepping up to the desk, Harper took out her wallet.
After popping products into a silver bag with Studio 5400 scripted on it in black, he handed the bag to Bella. “An early Christmas gift, my dear.”
“Thank you, Adam.” Bella looking so pleased clutching that beautiful bag.
“Oh no, Adam,” Harper protested quietly after Adam pushed away her credit card. “I can't let you do this.”
“Of course you can. Now get out of here. I've got clients coming.” And he shooed them from his shop. “Have a wonderful day.”
Of course when they got home, Bella burst through the door, searching until she found Cameron in his library. “Daddy, Daddy,” she screamed at the top of her lungs, grinding to a halt when she saw him engrossed at the desk.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Looking alarmed at first, Cameron broke into a smile when Bella pirouetted in front of him.
“Am I pretty, Daddy?” Everything hinged on Daddy's reply. That would never change.
“You are the most gorgeous girl in the whole world.” The love in his eyes said it all. And that was one of the reasons why Harper had decided to marry Cameron Bennett.
Not totally satisfied, Bella pointed back at Harper. “Except for Harper, Daddy. She's pretty too.”
And in this case? It felt great to come in a close second.
Chapter 8
After Bella had spun herself dizzy just to feel her ringlets bob, they all had lunch. Then it was out to the yard where Cameron tossed a Frisbee to Bella and Pipsqueak in the yard. It was hilarious to watch Bella try to hold her curls in place while she ran. At the end, he was tossing the toy just for the dog.
Harper was holed up in the dining room, and he couldn’t resist wandering in there. Some rough sketches were laid out on the table, along with fabric swatches, a ton of ribbons, plus other stuff like pinecones and oyster shells. Pretty colorful and definitely looking creative. She made him proud. Those uppity women were lucky to have Harper working on their houses. Cameron’s blood boiled when he thought of how Georgina and Brittany had treated her. His anger turned into a different kind of heat seeing her bent over her work dressed in those black tights and one of his shirts.
“Like the shirt.” Setting the crutches aside, he settled into a chair.
“Thank you.” Then she looked up and blushed because, yes, it was one of his.
“What do you think, Cameron? I have appointments with Georgina and Brittany Monday, so I have to get this right.” She pushed her hair back with the back of one hand as if testing herself for a fever.
Coffee mug in hand, he tried to concentrate. Really, he did. But when Harper fluttered her hands as she did to make a point, Cameron got distracted. Those copper-tinted curls swayed with her. With an aggravated sigh, she’d swat at them, so serious and impatient. He wanted that long hair draped across his chest again, and he had to shut his eyes against the memory. Didn’t seem to matter. Prickles still danced across his skin. This session might lead to nothing but frustration.
“So it’s that’s bad?”
His eyes flew open. Harper faced him, hands on hips and frowning.
“Not at all. Where do you come up with all this?” His contrite smile must have sold her.
“Here and there. I went to the library to page through some magazines.”
What Harper didn't realize was that a lot of people could search books and magazines for ideas. Being able to put the elements together set her apart. His admiration growing, he listened while she dove right back into her plans for Georgina and Brittany. They better be pleased with her efforts.
What a mess he’d made of the coming week because of his carelessness. Man of the house, but he couldn’t help her set all this up, which had been their original plan. Somehow, he'd cover it. Of course, Rick had agreed to help, and he’d bring two of the younger guys. The ones who weren’t married yet and didn’t have children commanding their time on the weekends, especially a holiday weekend like Thanksgiving.
Now he pulled his attention back to Harper and his shirt creeping up her thighs when she reached for something. Too bad about the tights but the weather was cold. Not that he needed much to recall how her soft her skin felt against his. He’d probably never be able to wear that shirt again without getting turned on.
Damn. Get it together, Bennett. He was supposed to be helping her, not sizing up her assets, and she had quite a few. “What do you think, Cameron?” After she finished telling him what both women had objected to, Harper looked to him for his opinion again. He felt flattered.
“So Georgina wants something deeper. Darker colors. Vintage, is that what she called it?” Lordy, southern belles had a way with words. They had to have the latest styles but when it came to their decor? Either coastal or vintage. At least, that’s the way it ran in Savannah.
“Classic,” Harper said with a hopeless look on her face. “I figure the lime green and aqua? That all goes to Julep. She was crazy about it when I mentioned it. Suits her.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Julep was a kick, and he liked her husband Tuck too. Used to having it all, she still didn’t seem to carry any hang-ups. Surveying her samples, Harper rearranged stuff as she talked. She was a bright woman, and he was proud of the way she’d taken hold of her interior design business. Sure, she’d started with him when he was working on the Winston House, but the rest was all her. She’d developed her own client base. Bringing the pragmatic touch of the Midwest to her work, she also met deadlines, adding to her success rate.
Holding up what looked like a brass bugle, she smiled. “Maybe, just maybe Georgina would like what I’ve planned for Brittany. Deep mauve red, with a rich forest green. Lots of shiny brass tones.”
Sipping his third cup of coffee, he settled back, trying to forget the dull ache in his ankle. “And Brittany?” Harper grabbed some ribbons, mostly green and red plaid, plus all kinds of designs. “My sketches aren’t finished yet, but I think she’ll love these.” She made one of her funny faces. “Guess I’ll find out Monday.”
When she tugged nervously on her hair, her large gold hoops caught the sunlight streaming through the windows. Puffing out her cheeks, Harper collapsed into the chair next to his. “Honestly, Cameron, I don’t know what I’m going to do if they turn this down. I’m out of time.” Suddenly, she was that uncertain girl again, the one he'd rescued at the bachelor party before she bravely tried stripping. Her kicks had done enough damage, and he’d called a halt.
“Don’t let them turn it down. Tell them it’s all their idea and how brilliant they are.”
“But they’re my ideas.” She looked crestfallen.
“I know, darlin’. But with these two? Let the ladies lead.” Then he stopped. Not the time to give away all his secrets.
Her eyes slowly slid to his. “Is that what you do? Let me think you lead?”
This felt about as safe as wading into the marsh when the tide was rolling in. “Aw, darlin’. You know that’s not true.”
Being so careful, she got up and rotated to set her tiny tush on his lap. He welcomed the warm weight of her curves and took her hips in his hands. “Oh, isn’t it?” She was playing with his curls. Probably time for a haircut.
“Didn’t I give into you when you insisted we not share a room until we are properly married?” he murmured low enough so Bella wouldn’t hear. He could hear her romping through the house with Pipsqueak yapping behind her. So much for her new
hairdo.
Her hands stopped. “You know how I feel about that. Propriety and everything. After all, my family goes to church every Sunday. They’re pretty understanding but let’s not poke the bear.”
“I know, I know. I’m just teasing you.” She’d threatened to move out completely and that would have been more than a mere inconvenience. For all intents and purposes, Harper still slept and worked on the third floor. Bella often camped up there with Pipsqueak, leaving him alone on the second floor in a master suite that seemed way too big for one person.
Harper continued to fret, plucking at the neck of his T-shirt. “Who knows what people say in their own homes. About us, I mean.”
“Harper, sweetheart? The War of Succession is over. And I don't give a rip what people say and where they say it.”
The ripe strawberry she created with her lips looked so tempting. “Easy for you to say. And it was the Civil War, not the War of Succession or War of Aggression.” She sighed as if she’d just been defeated by her own words. “Anyway, this will all be straightened out once the wedding takes place.”
“Right.” But there was one situation the Chicago wedding would not solve, and it annoyed him no end. His own family had become a problem.
Skimming a cool hand over the stubble he hadn’t bothered shaving today, Harper murmured, “You don’t think your mother and sister will change their minds? Or your brothers?”
“Sweetheart, trust me. This is not personal. I'm sure they’d like to be at our wedding, but that just might not be in the cards. They don’t have the clothes or the heart for the frozen north.”
Bending closer, she teased him with her lips. Inflamed him with her tongue. “Sure you can’t convince them? I know how persuasive you can be. You persuaded me to stay more than once when I tried to leave this job.” Her voice lowered at the end to a rough murmur that conjured up all sorts of images. Harper Kirkpatrick was bad to the bone.
“Actually it was your cooking skills that attracted me,” he murmured between kisses. “The way you brandished that meat fork. Who could resist?”