Mistletoe Baby (Crescent Cove 9.50)

He grunted. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, I’m buying a house on the lake.”

“Where exactly?”

We discussed details, and surprise of all surprises, Gage was my new neighbor. Sort of. He wasn’t right next door, which probably was good for the state of my pumpkins next Halloween. He seemed much friendlier today than he had in December, but I wouldn’t exactly say he’d rolled out the welcome wagon.

Closer though. In general, the townsfolk were pretty friendly. Maybe eventually, I’d be one of them.

Dare’s idea of a loaner was more family friendly than my sports car. The Jeep was more practical than mine as well, especially to drive out to the lake view roads. I parked on the street near the hair salon and walked straight inside, ready to face my fate with a smile.

All right, that was a total lie. I was already sweating bullets, but I could do a poker face with the best of them. Especially when I had one hell of a bribe in my back pocket.

I hadn’t bought a house just to get a woman to go out with me.

Not exactly. That would’ve been crazy.

I’d done it because the house had spoken to me, as so much of this town did. It was as if I’d been caught in a web once I’d entered the town limits of Crescent Cove. One I didn’t want to shake free of anytime soon.

Stepping in to To Dye For made me think of Ellie immediately. Somehow it felt like her. I hadn’t been in many salons, but I knew this one with its farmhouse-style décor and plethora of plants was different. Special. Much like the woman I’d come to whisk away to my house on the water—

No, I’d come to ask her out for a low pressure lunch. I wouldn’t scare her away this time. I was living the casual life now.

Minus the offer I’d had accepted on the house she loved. A minor detail, really.

One she didn’t need to know about until after lunch. Way after. At least not until I walked her back to her car.

A pretty blond in a billowy poet’s blouse flashed a smile at me. “Hi, I’m Paisley. Do you have an appointment?”

“No. I’m actually looking for Ellie.”

“Oh. Oh. Ohhh.” On the third oh, she braced both hands on the counter and actually leaned over to check me out from head to toe. “You must be artist dude. Nice job, girl.”

“Excuse me?”

“So, Ellie actually isn’t available right now. As you can see.” Expansively, she threw back her arm to encompass the rest of the hair styling stations. It was a small operation but had room to grow. Everything was neat as a pin and welcoming. “But you are here. Very much here. Hmm.”

“Okay, is she due in today? I can wait. Or maybe you could tell me her hours?”

“No, I can’t do that. Confidentiality laws and all.”

I frowned. “But this is a salon. What if I wanted her to do my hair?” I swallowed hard at the inappropriate images that filled my head, most of them involving Ellie, shaving cream, and partial nudity.

Perhaps total nudity. It was my daydream. I could make it as X-rated as I wanted to.

As long as I stayed hidden by this counter.

“Hmm, that’s an idea, right? I can’t send you away if you wanted her to do your hair. Since you would be a paying customer and all. No freebies,” she added, as if she could sense I was about to demand a chop on the house.

“I’ll pay of course.”

“Right. Because paying customers have to be served no matter what. The client is always right. Isn’t that true, Melody?” Paisley asked an older blond woman blow-drying a high school-aged girl’s hair at the first station. “We have to make sure they’re happy.”

Melody frowned as she looked between us, and then it appeared as if Paisley did a quick hand gesture just out of my range of sight. “Oh, definitely. The customer is the boss. We just want to make sure they’re pleased.”

“Right.” Paisley nodded vigorously as she faced me again. “So, tell us, what exactly are your needs today?”

I glanced over my shoulder. “Is this going on YouTube? I feel like I’m being videotaped to be made fun of later.”