Page 35 of Charmed and Alarmed

“Hi!” I say brightly when somebody finally answers with a grumbled, “What?”

“Do you happen to have any availability for a walk-in today or tomorrow? Nothing fancy! I swear, I will be the easiest client ever and will tip you one hundred percent!”

This plea falls on deaf ears. After a pause, the grumbler replies, “I can fit you in on Tuesday.”

My shoulders slump. “Nothing sooner? My sister’s engagement party is?—”

“Tuesday is the best I can do.”

I hang up with a low curse, turning to smile apologetically at Holden as he hangs his laptop bag off the back of a kitchen chair. “Sorry.”

“What service are you desperate enough to tip one hundred percent for?” he asks, grinning.

“A haircut.” I finger the ends of my dark waves, grimacing. “I always had to have it long to fit in a bun, and today it occurred to me I don’t have to do that anymore. It’s stupid. I’ll just put it up.”

Strolling forward, Holden reaches out a hand to join mine, looking appraisingly at my hair. “Why is this so important for you to do today?”

I shrug, feeling a little embarrassed now that I have to explain the impulse. “There will probably be a million pictures, and I guess I wanted to benew Leniinstead oftrying to be the old Lenifor them.”

As if he understands this perfectly, Holden nods, lowering his lips to meet mine in a brief, chaste kiss. “New Leniandtrying to be the old Leniare both beautiful.”

Butterflies erupt in my belly as I gaze at him, struggling to remain calm and not just melt into a pile of goo on the floor. For someone as inexperienced in relationships as I am, this guy seems to be making it his personal mission to make me fall as hard and fast as possible.

I swallow, my heart lifting as a different possibility comes to mind. “Can you do it for me?”

Holden looks startled. “Do what?Cut your hair?”

I nod. “It doesn’t need to be perfect or anything. Just, you know, not this.” My feeble laugh doesn’t quite come off as genuine.

For a moment, he just looks at me. “Okay,” he agrees at last, obviously cautious. “I can try. No guarantees.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “You didn’t get your cosmetology license in architecture school?”

“Shockingly, no.” He lowers his lips to mine again, kissing me sweetly.

Feeling strangely fluttery and off balance, I draw back, walking to the kitchen drawer to retrieve the scissors as Holden pulls a stool out from the little island to the center of the room. I manage to find a spray bottle of Honor’s and a comb that must belong to Sophie. Neither of us says a word as we get everything in place, until it’s all done, and there’s nothing left but to do it.

Something hot and restless shifts beneath my skin as Holden draws toward me, a nervous smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “You’re sure about this? I don’t want to fuck up your hair, princess.” He’s teasing me, but I can sense a genuine, underlying anxiety.

Reaching out, I weave my fingers through his and squeeze. “I’m sure,” I promise. “It’ll turn out better than if I did it myself, which was my next plan.”

Something is happening here that has absolutely nothing to do with my hair. I can feel it hanging over our heads, growing heavier and heavier by the second.

I can barely breathe as I climb onto the stool, and Holden picks up the spray bottle in one hand and the comb in another. He moves in a circle around me, frowning in concentration as he works it through my hair. The only sound in the kitchen is my breathing and the periodic hiss of water from the bottle.

There is no reason this moment should feel so… intense. We’ve had a crazy amount of sex at this point, the man has probably seen every inch of my body, ten times over. Yet sitting here, fully dressed, as the same man combs my hair in careful, measured strokes, I’m all but flayed open.

“How short do you want me to cut it?” Holden asks, pausing in front of me.

I swallow, lifting my hand to show him a point just above my shoulder, and while a flicker of uncertainty shows in his handsome features, Holden doesn’t question me.

As he lifts the scissors, I let my eyes fall shut.

Snip.

My heart lurches. “Thank you for doing this,” I whisper, feeling the gentle pull of his fingers in my hair. Holden doesn’t reply at first.

Snip.

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