Page 46 of Pain in the Axe
Instantly, the tension eating at me released, and a rough laugh escaped me. She may have a punk-rock exterior with her tattoos and piercings, but she was sweeter than she let on.
“It was more of an involuntary manslaughter situation,” I joked.
She shook her head and took a step back. “I’m thrilled for you.”
I smiled. One night, we’d had a few drinks and spilled our past romantic traumas. Until my ex’s return, she was one of very few people who knew about Chloe.
“I’m making some changes,” I explained. “Therapy, a haircut, and some soul searching. I’ve got to be worthy of her. It’s time to fix my shit and make up for what I did when we were kids.”
She rubbed her hands together, her eyes flashing. “Then I’ve got my work cut out for me. We’re tackling that beard first,” she said, grabbing a cape. “Need to shape that up so she can see your handsome face.”
I closed my eyes, beyond grateful for her friendship and grace in this situation.
She waved me into the chair. “But don’t think for one second that you’re getting out of telling me every single detail.”
As she raised the seat, I winced. I definitely preferred listening over talking.
She brandished the clippers at me. “I’ll give you a tragic goatee if you cross me.”
Shit. No one had seen my cheeks since high school. I sure as hell wasn’t starting now. “Okay, okay.” I held my hands up in surrender. “What do you want to know?”
Becca put the clippers down and pulled out a pair of scissors, then got to work. “Is she single?”
“Yes.”
“She interested?”
My throat went tight. “I don’t know. But I think there might be a chance.”
“How badly did you fuck it up last time? Should I be rooting for her to murder you?”
I cringed, doing my best not to move while she trimmed my beard. “Badly. And it depends on how forgiving you are.” I’d spent years with regret, sure, but it wasn’t until I saw the firein her eyes that I realized how deeply I’d hurt Chloe. That she carried the same deep scars that I did.
With a nod, she spun her scissors with one finger. “You’re one of the good ones. I hope she sees that.”
I scoffed. “I’m sure she’s met a hell of a lot better out there. But a guy’s gotta hope.”
She made a low growling noise I’d never heard and glared at me through the mirror. “Gus Hebert, don’t you dare talk about yourself like that. You are the best catch in Northern Maine. She will never find anyone better.”
I shrugged. I didn’t agree, but I was too terrified by her intensity to argue.
“You don’t believe me? Take today, for example. You walked into my shop bright and early to honestly explain that you were spoken for.”
“My mama raised a gentleman,” I said. “And I wanted to avoid any confusion or awkwardness or hurt feelings.” Straightforward was my style, and Becca was a good person. She’d been through hell and deserved to be treated with respect.
Once she’d stepped in front of me and surveyed my beard, she started on my hair, clipping and shaping and cursing me out for waiting so long. “If you’re gonna let down all your admirers, then you may have a few more stops.”
“What do you mean?” I frowned at her reflection. I hadn’t dated in years.
She laughed. “Um, Emma Polansky?”
Emma? “We went to prom together.”
“Yes, and since her divorce, her parents talk constantly about setting you two up. They own the only grocery store in town. You can’t burn that bridge.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I’ll stop in and mention my affections are spoken for.”
“And Laurie, the bartender at the Ape Hangar.”
