Protection at Nightfall

by E L Thorne

  Still smiling, she said, “Today’s your day. Seems like just yesterday you were here.”

  I hoped that didn’t mean she was disappointed to see me.

  “Grant!” Lana’s screech disrupted the salon’s serenity. She lunged my way, locking me into a hug.

  Noticing Chelsea’s crestfallen expression, I quickly pulled from Lana’s grasp. “Hi, Lana. Sorry, I think I’m late for my appointment with Chelsea.”

  “When are you going to let me tend to your hair... and other needs?” Lana’s hand drifted down across my chest as I drew away.

  I threw a glance at Chelsea, hoping she hadn’t seen that, and even more, hoping she knew I wasn’t interested in Lana. I needed to make it clearer to Lana to back off, it seemed.

  “I’m good. Thanks.” I kept my voice cool but had to pry her other hand off my bicep. I walked up to Chelsea. “No hug for me?”

  “I wondered if you’d already gotten your daily allotment.” A smart-ass smile crossed her face just before she turned and reached for the robe.

  That was what I loved about her—her sense of humor. And her awesome personality. Well, there were a couple more things. Her nice full kissable lips and a body a guy couldn’t help but notice.

  “Not when it comes to yours.” I gave her a wink and took a seat since her turning around to get the robe negated a hug.

  She laid the nylon fabric over me, wrapping the collar around my neck. “I need to get one that’s larger, so I can actually close it around your neck.”

  “You’ve been saying that for a couple of months now. I’m beginning to think you’re all talk.”

  She laughed and put her hands on my neck, her thumbs and fingertips rising up to my scalp, her nails raking my skin, her thumb pads massaging.

  “You know you don’t really need a haircut just yet. I don’t know why you get your hair cut so often.” Her eyes twinkled, dark chocolate against her fair skin.

  “Really? No clue?”

  It was past time for me to quit beating around the bush, as Mae had pointed out.

  The blush that colored Chelsea’s cheeks made her eyes sparkle and fueled my want to see how far that blush extended. Her reaction also affirmed she was at least a little interested—maybe.

  I breathed in deeply.

  My bear’s senses took in her scent. My eyes closed, partially in response to the fierce need to claim her that effused my body. My bear sought to take control of the situation and make her ours, make her mine, mark her for life.

  “So what do you say?” I struggled to keep the eagerness from showing in my voice.

  “To what?” She ran her fingers through my hair again. “Let’s go to the chairs, wash this hair, then we’ll see if I can give you a trim.”

  I followed her to the back, fighting to keep from staring at her luscious hips as they swayed.

  “Grant?” She turned around to face me.

  I’d missed something she said. “Yeah?”

  “Never mind.”

  “No. What?” I took hold of her hand, stopping her from leading me to the back.

  “Oh, I was just asking you to finish your thought from earlier.”

  If she only knew how many thoughts I’d had... But I knew what she meant.

  “I was asking what you’d say to the idea of maybe dinner. We could head into the city, not this town”—I laughed because the town we were in could hardly be called one—“and we can do something?”

  She tilted her head. “Something?” Her voice had a little teasing in it. She indicated the chair.

  I sprawled into it, the contraption barely containing my large frame.

  Behind my head, she turned the water on and sprayed my hair with the warmth. She leaned over me, reaching for the shampoo. Her closeness intensified all the thoughts already swirling in my mind.

  A hundred years ago, two hundred years ago, things would have been different. That was before I’d found a mate I wanted—Chelsea. That was when any willing woman would’ve slaked my desires.

  Not anymore.

  Chapter Six

  Chelsea

  I leaned over and tried to get a squirt of the shampoo into my palm without rubbing my chest in his face. There were times I hated having big boobs. I wasn’t sure if this was one of those times.

  “Chelz?”

  I loved when he’d given me that nickname. Remembered the day clearly. I’d never been called that before.

  I exhaled slowly and gazed into his deep-blue eyes, fighting the urge to lean down and kiss him. Knowing that I’d never give in to that urge. “Yes, Grant?”

  “Um, you have a... You missed, and it kind of...” He lifted his hand to point.

  Mortification settled in.

  The shampoo had squirted a dollop right onto the front of my shirt. And I’d been so into him I hadn’t even noticed.

  I ran my thumb over it. And to my horror, doing so only served to make the spot grow larger. Talk about embarrassed. And, crap! He was watching me. But not in disgust—to my great relief—but with a lot of interest. His gaze lifted to my eyes, the intensity there stealing my breath. Oh, my. Was he as attracted to me as I was to him? And wouldn’t that be amazing… to kiss those lips, to be held in his strong embrace, to hear him whisper my name…

  “Uh…” I gave him a sheepish grin. “Thanks.” For noticing. For the daydream. “For telling me.”

  Amusement—and something else—flickered in his eyes. “You didn’t say yes.” He reminded me that I hadn’t answered his question about going out.

  Was he taking pity on me because I didn’t have a life? Because all I did was sit at home after work, night in, night out, and read those stories about hot highlanders claiming their willing women? About werewolves taking a bride and making her one of their own?

  I lathered him up, and a blush rose to my cheeks as I thought of the story I was currently reading. A book about a girl like me who fell in love with a sexy alien who was on Earth to abduct her. Except the alien fell in love with her, and instead of stealing her for his people’s evil intentions, he ran away with her and started a new life.

  I sighed without realizing it at first, and rinsed out the shampoo suds. Of course, I wouldn’t say no to Grant. Even if his reasons for asking weren’t necessarily the same as mine for accepting. I could use a friend in town, other than my boss, Mae.

  Mae kept telling me if I had a better car, I could go into the city. It was only an hour away, and I could make friends my own age, and date, and stuff like that. Mae didn’t know I used my car as an excuse because I didn’t really want any of those things.

  I avoided high-population areas. And I didn’t want any man other than Grant. The only man I’d wanted since I’d first laid eyes on him. Talk about setting my sights too high.

  Oh well.

  “I’ll go with you.” I reached for the conditioner, careful not to get any on myself, careful not to rub my boobs in his face.

  His expression lit up with a smile that showed off perfect white teeth.

  I raised the stream of water, rinsing out the conditioner, then patted his head with a towel. Because he kept his hair short, towel-drying it was an easy feat.

  I led the way to my chair. Having small talk was limited because of Lana’s proximity. That and Lana’s constant leaning toward my station meant there was no privacy.

  I wrapped up his haircut, a five-minute job that I stretched into fifteen just so I could keep my hands on him, even if it was only his head.

  “Let me blow it dry? It’s chilly outside. You don’t want to go out and catch a cold.”

  Chapter Seven

  Grant

  I laughed. “I didn’t take you for the superstitious type. Colds are caused by viruses, not by temperature.”

  “That’s not superstition.” Chelsea smiled.

  “So you believe in things you can’t see?”

  Mae glanced up from the desk in the reception area.

  I knew she could hear me.

  She tossed
me a sideways glance, as if to question what my reason was for asking that, as if to question my wisdom. Or my motives.

  I shook my head, one shake, almost imperceptible, then turned back to the luscious, brown-haired woman next to me. “Well, Chelz?”

  “I believe in a lot of things.” Her smile held a secret.

  I hoped I’d get a chance to learn it.

  “How about Friday at seven? I’ll pick you up at your place.” I didn’t need to ask her where her place was. She rented a room from Mae.

  The salon fell silent.

  Everyone turned toward the door.

  I looked to see what had garnered their attention.

  Jeff Landers.

  I bristled. The instinct to resort to violence rose in my bear. I picked up a scent of fear that carried over from Chelsea. Clearly, she didn’t care for the land developer. I could understand her dislike, but why was she transmitting fear? Why was she afraid of him?

  Jeff let the door close with a slam, ignored Mae’s greeting, and strode straight for Chelsea’s station. “I hope I’m not late.” His voice had an arrogant twist to it.

  I glanced at him, and he locked eyes with me. “Have you given my offer any consideration? You have far more land than you need. The community would benefit from an amusement park in Bear Canyon Valley. You’re the only one keeping this community from its prosperous dream.”

  I fought back the derisive laughter that rose in my throat. The only one who thought this community needed an amusement park to kill its tranquility and run its residents off was Jeff Landers.

  “I think I’ll keep my land.” I walked by the man, noting that he stood in such a way I had to make a concerted attempt to walk around him, or I’d run into him.

  I opted for the latter and bumped shoulders with the guy.

  Jeff was no slouch, probably reaching six foot, but he winced when I shoulder-bumped him. He turned to Chelsea. “I’m hoping you have an opening. I didn’t make an appointment.”

  Mae cleared her throat. “You really should have made an appointment.”

  “Since when do I need one?” Jeff glanced over Mae’s head at me, his eyes glinting with defiance and insolence. “So, do I get my haircut, or not?” He glared at me, then softened his gaze as his eyes landed on Chelsea.

  I gave Mae a pointed look. Pretty much asking for permission to kick his ass.

  She shook her head slightly.

  Too bad, because I would have liked to have had permission to take Jeff’s impertinence and petulance outside for a lesson.

  “I’ll take care of this.” Mae took my bicep and guided me toward the door.

  Behind us, Chelsea was saying, “Sure, I can help you out, Jeff.” Her voice was stilted and forced, much like her smile.

  I waved to her. “See you Friday.”

  Chapter Eight

  Chelsea

  I cringed.

  Grant saying that out loud made Jeff’s eyes narrow.

  I hadn’t wanted to help the rich developer. I could tell he had a cruel streak, and he had set his sights on me. Why that was, I had no idea. Maybe it was to make Lana jealous. They used to date. That was probably it.

  Either way, he tipped 100 dollars every time he visited, and I wanted to get him in the chair before Mae’s temper flared. Mae made it no secret that she didn’t care for Jeff. You’d think he’d learn his lesson and go to the city for his haircuts. He worked in the city, so why he came here... Yeah, probably to make Lana jealous. I bet I was right to begin with.

  So, why did Jeff’s appointments always manage to coincide with Grant’s? Even the land developer’s walk-ins coincided with Grant’s.

  Jeff’s predatory glances and his way-too-familiar touches on my arms, neck, and shoulders made me cringe inwardly. I fought to keep Mae from seeing how revolting I found his advances. He reminded me of a man I’d like to leave in the past forever. A man with a truly horrible, cruel streak.

  His expression stern, Jeff sat in the seat. “What’s this about Friday?”

  “Nothing,” I mumbled.

  Telling him anything about my date with Grant would serve no purpose. I wasn’t into playing head games and pitting men against each other. And I wasn’t even remotely interested in Jeff.

  After making quick work of washing, rinsing, and cutting his hair, I didn’t offer to dry it. He, however, asked for a dry.

  I glanced at Mae, hoping she’d shake her head.

  She nodded.

  Crap. So I complied, and did it cheerfully, although half-heartedly. Admittedly, the cheerful part was faked.

  I spent the moments drying his hair daydreaming. Today was Wednesday. Tomorrow was my early day. I could go into the city for a new outfit for my date with Grant on Friday. That would be nice. Maybe I could find something slimming that would accentuate the right curves and hide the wrong ones. I glanced up at Lana as I took the smock off Jeff. Her slim figure was a contrast that reflected my indulgences in guilty pleasures, particularly dark chocolate.

  I glanced away from Lana and turned to Jeff. “Thank you, Jeff. See you next time.”

  “Say, Chelsea?” His voice was loud. Too loud. It made me uncomfortable. “What would you say to going out with me?”

  I glanced at Mae. Her eyes narrowed at his words.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Jeff.” I rubbed my palms on my too-tight jeans, probably transmitting my nervousness. “I thank you, though. I’m flattered.” Not exactly, since I didn’t trust him, and something about him made me very nervous. Plus, it was clear he and Grant did not get along. Was Jeff doing this to get to Grant?

  Jeff gripped the banister on the way toward the reception desk. “I wish you’d reconsider,” he said through clenched jaws.

  “Can I think about it?” I hoped that would appease him, get him to stop, maybe even go away.

  “What’s to think about? A down-and-out, broke hairdresser would turn down a successful man like me? Do you know who I am?”

  I didn’t want to look at Mae, fearful that she was upset by the drama. She’d been so kind to give me a job here. I didn’t want to be responsible for a scene in my friend’s place of business. “Please, Jeff, lower your voice. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Of course. Saturday?”

  “Hell, no.” His voice was a nasal, offended hiss. “Hell, no. I don’t want his seconds. Tonight. I’ll pick you up at closing time.”

  “It’ll be late, and I won’t have time to change. Maybe another—”

  “I’ll be here tonight. You look fine.” He spun on his heel, threw a bill on the counter, and with a hasty, “Keep the change,” he stormed out.

  I stared after him, aghast. Now what? I had put myself in a bad position. I wanted nothing to do with him. And I didn’t trust him. And he wanted to get revenge of some sort on Grant. And I liked Grant. Okay, okay, I really liked Grant.

  Sigh.

  Feeling eyes on me, I turned, catching Mae’s squinting, narrowed glance. I grimaced.

  “I’m sorry...” I started to explain, to tell her I didn’t want drama. I didn’t want to bring problems to her and didn’t want them in my own life. I’d had enough of drama and avoided it at all costs now. I avoided it as much as I avoided the attention of strangers and the law.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” Mae’s voice was bitter.

  “I didn’t mean to upset him. I know, I should have accepted the first time he asked, I—”

  “You should have done no such thing. That’s not what I meant at all.” She put her arm around me. “You are not obligated to go out with anyone, whether they’re clientele or not.”

  A sob rose in my throat at the woman’s kindness. I hadn’t felt this kind of acceptance since...

  Well, I couldn’t remember the last time.

  Chapter Nine

  Chelsea

  The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. It was almost closing time, and already dark outside.

  Mae cleared her throat.

 
I looked up at her, wondering what she was going to say, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind and wasn’t going to tell me she didn’t need any drama with her clientele, and that I would have to leave the salon. Forever.

  “I want you to feel free to cancel with Jeff and Grant.”

  “Oh, no!” I blurted. She’d caught me off-guard. “I mean... well, I...”

  Spit it out, Chelsea.

  It’s not easy to say it out loud.

  I wanted to go out with Grant. I wanted a lot more than that. I thought of his hard body, his wide chest, and expansive shoulders. A warmth flooded my body, starting in my chest, rising to my cheeks. How I hated that blushing came so easily for me.

  Maybe this was Mae’s way of saying that she didn’t want me to go out with either man. For all I knew, Mae liked Grant in that way. And I didn’t want to interfere with it.

  Not to mention, Mae was a stunning woman with flashing, almost-black eyes and a tan that seemed to last year-round. I didn’t think my pale-rose coloring could compete with her vivid complexion and features.

  Maybe Grant was asking the wrong woman out, and I should back out gracefully and let his courtship with Mae take its course. But... I didn’t think I could handle watching Grant and Mae date.

  “Chelsea?” Mae was patting my shoulder. “What were you saying? You were going to say something?”

  A wave of sadness and reluctance washed over me. I shook my head, resigned to what I had to do. “No. Nothing. I was just agreeing with you. I shouldn’t date your—our—clientele. It’s bad business. I’m sorry.” I stared down at the black tiled floor, littered with cut hair. “I should sweep.”

  I didn’t look back at Mae. I slipped away to the back room, allegedly for the broom, but mostly to allow myself to regain my composure. I didn’t want anyone else to see how upset I was.

  So much for the shopping trip for something nice to wear on a date with Grant. Maybe I’d make the drive into the city tomorrow, anyway, treat myself to a meal and some dark chocolate—yum!—and get myself a new outfit, anyway. Forget all these pipe dreams about someone like Grant being interested in me.