Catching Him (How to Catch an Alpha 1)

When my mom gets back, she gives me a kiss to my cheek and hands me a cup of coffee that I’m more than a little thankful for. I don’t know why, but today I feel like I just can’t wake up. When Deloris arrives right on time, I take her to the back of the salon. I add a blue toner to the shampoo, which will take out the yellow in her gray hair, and let it set for about ten minutes while she talks about her kids, who are not actually kids but adults in their fifties. Like always, I nod as she complains about them.

Deloris has lived in town for ages. She used to own the florist shop down the street but gave the business up to her kids when her arthritis got so bad she was no longer able to make the floral arrangements. Even though she no longer owns the business, she still considers it hers and is never happy with the way her kids are running things. Having gotten flowers from their shop on my birthday from my parents, I think they’re doing a great job, but what do I know?

Once her hair is washed and conditioned, I lead her back to my chair and give her a trim before I start the process of drying her hair and curling it at the same time with a small roller brush.

When I hear the bell over the door ding, I turn my head and start to smile at whoever is coming into the shop. I see it’s Charles, and I bite back a curse. He messaged me a few days after our date to see when I’d be available to go out with him again. I didn’t want to be rude, so I told him that I was slammed with work but would let him know. I haven’t messaged him back since then and assumed he’d take the hint. Apparently, he didn’t.

“Hey, Charles,” I say over the noise of the blow-dryer I’m still using.

“Leah.” He smiles at me, then looks around, smiling at the women who are waiting or already getting their hair done. I swear I hear a few of the women sigh as he comes toward me in his custom suit, with his hair perfectly styled and his tan probably purchased from the same place Grams gets hers done down the block.

I turn to face him when he reaches my station, and I flip off the dryer. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” He leans down, kissing my cheek, and I fight the urge to wipe the feel of his lips away. “I was in the area and thought we could get lunch.”

“I’m sorry.” I gesture with the round brush in my hand to Deloris’s head. “I’m working.”

“We’re almost done, aren’t we?” I look at Deloris in the mirror and see she has a hopeful light in her eyes and a helpful smile on her wrinkled face.

Crap.

“You’re just about done,” I agree with her, then look at Charles. “I really am sorry, but I have a few more appointments after I finish with Deloris.”

“I don’t mind waiting while you get something to eat,” my next client, Sandy, announces from one of the three chairs at the front under the window that looks out to the street. My eyes meet her big brown ones, and she smiles wide, showing off her too-white-to-be-real teeth.

Sandy is a beauty pageant coach. She always has on a full face of makeup and hair so big it’s a surprise she can fit through most doors. She comes in once a week for a wash and set and for me to use a can of hair spray on her head. She’s sweet to her core and such a romantic that she always has a romance novel in her hand. I adore her, but right now I want to strangle her.

“Thanks, Sandy. That’s sweet of you to offer, but if I push your appointment back, my day will be derailed,” I explain gently.

“Bummer.” Her face falls.

“Sorry,” I say, looking at Charles once more.

“Another time.”

I don’t nod or agree. I’ll call him later and let him know I’m seeing someone. I hope I can save us both the embarrassment by not doing it right now. “I hope you have a good day.”

“You too, sweetheart.” He kisses my cheek again just as the bell dings once more. When I glance over to see who has come in, my stomach bottoms out.

This cannot be happening.

Tyler’s eyes lock on mine, and I swear it takes every bit of strength I have not to run screaming from the salon. “Babe,” he says to me, and then he moves his eyes to Charles, who’s still standing right next to me. “What’s up?”

Charles puffs out his chest. “You’re her neighbor? The one with the dog.”