The Summer He Came Home (Bad Boys of Crystal Lake 1)

“The things I’m going to do to you, Maggie, just might be illegal in some states.”

Cain turned and headed toward his truck, keys jangling in his hands loosely. “Make sure you get lots of sleep,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Because you’re sure as hell gonna need it.”

Chapter 17

“Do not cut any of that hair off!”

The loud words startled both Maggie and the hairstylist who held a good chunk of Maggie’s hair between her fingers.

It was Monday afternoon, later in the day, and A Cut Above was buzzing with clientele, stylists, manicurists, and shampoo girls. The shop was located downtown, near the clock tower, just east of the town hall. Out front every single parking space was filled, and the sun glanced off the windshields, blinding anyone who cared to look.

Maggie’s one client of the day, Annabelle Jenkins, was done—her three-bedroom bungalow only took a few hours—and on impulse, Maggie had decided to treat herself to a pedicure and a haircut. It had been months since she had anything done with it. In fact, the last time her locks were trimmed, it had been a work of art created by her son.

Lori Jonesberg appeared in the mirror behind her, her expression focused, intense. “I’ve had a cancellation, Sandra, so I’ll look after Ms. O’Rourke. The clean towels have just been delivered and need to be put away.”

Sandra stepped back and let Maggie’s hair fall from her fingers. “Sure, Lori.” The tone was respectful, but Maggie caught the narrowed eyes before Sandra disappeared from view.

Lori’s fingers threaded into Maggie’s hair, and she lifted the heavy weight, checking the ends thoroughly before letting the tendrils fall again. “I’ll have to take about an inch off the bottom but no more.” Her dark eyes crinkled. “They look damn good, considering you use the cheapest product on the market.”

“I…” Maggie started.

“It’s all right. You don’t have to thank me. I really did have a cancellation.” Lori winked before turning to one of the girls behind her. “Grab my tray and bring a coffee for Maggie.”

The young teen scurried to do Lori’s bidding. The owner of A Cut Above was petite, standing five foot five in her four-inch spikes, but she was a dynamo nonetheless. Maggie studied her in the mirror. She was also no longer a solid brunette. Lori’s chic cut was now dyed a deep chestnut with blond and red highlights.

“I heard the garage sale did huge business.” Lori’s gaze was still focused on her hair as she spoke.

“Uh, yes, Luke said they raised a significant amount of money.”

“That’s good,” Lori murmured as she cocked her head to the side and lifted a piece of Maggie’s hair. “So what are we doing today?” Lori frowned as she studied Maggie’s head.

“I thought a cut?”

Lori shook her head.

Maggie bit her lip “Maybe? I was thinking something different. I’ve had it long for years, and I”—she shrugged—“thought that a change could be good.” At Lori’s frown, she arched an eyebrow in question. “Or not?”

“No.” Lori shook her head again. “No, we’re not going to take much off. Trust me on this.”

Okay. Maggie was a little unnerved at the sudden attention and the woman’s desire to make her over.

The young teen appeared at Maggie’s side just then and handed her a steaming cup of coffee. She rolled up a tray beside Lori and left as quickly as she’d come.

“We’re not?” Maggie asked.

“Nope.” Lori leaned in close to her ear. “Guys like Cain, rockers? They like their women to have long hair.”

Heat stained Maggie’s cheeks as a slow grin rolled over Lori’s face. The woman tugged on her hair. “They need something to hold on to, you know, when—”

“Lori,” Maggie interrupted, embarrassed.

The petite brunette laughed and reached into her tray. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot. I’m just teasing.” She cocked her head, and their eyes met in the mirror. “I’m right, mind you, but if you don’t want to talk about the fact that you’re having sex with Cain Black, I’m fine with that.”

“I’m not,” Maggie sputtered, suddenly aware of the glances and whispers aimed in her direction.

“Honey, don’t bother denying. Because if you haven’t done the nasty yet”—Lori held up a large swath of hair—“you will.” She fingered the piece, let it drop, and smiled at Maggie. “I’m going to add a few layers to give you some shape. Your color is gorgeous, but we’ll add some highlights, some blond and a few darker pieces. It will make the texture shimmer and add depth.”

Rebecca Stringer-Hayes strode into the salon at that moment, spied the two of them, and walked over. “Lori, I was hoping for a quick trim.” The blonde’s gaze lingered on Maggie, a cool smile in place as she adjusted her large bag across her shoulders. It was Gucci, and not a knockoff either.