Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Good,” he says softly, reaching out and smoothing his fingers down my wrist, the simple contact sending a tingle up my arm and across my scalp. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you tonight.” My stomach drops when he leans in and softly touches his lips to the corner of mine—definitely not the platonic cheek-kiss he gave Miranda earlier. “Ready, kid?” he asks Winter.
“Yeah.” She gives Miranda a hug, then comes over to hug me before taking her dad’s hand.
“Sammy, do not let him give you any money!” I shout as they start toward the front desk.
“You got it!” she shouts back, and Miles shoots me a look over his shoulder that is so filled with annoyance it’s cute. When I grin at him, he shakes his head, and I can hear his sigh of frustration from across the salon.
“So, Winter wanted to see you?” Miranda asks when they leave through the door of the salon. I look over at my best friend as she takes a seat in her chair giving me a wide eye look while taking a sip of her coffee.
“She needed a haircut.”
“And he drove all the way over here, when he could have asked you or me to cut her hair at the house this weekend?”
“M.”
“Just saying. It’s nice that he showed up to see you, even if he did use his daughter as an excuse to do it.”
Is that what that was? I mean, sure, he could have asked Miranda or me to cut Winter’s hair any time. He didn’t need to come to the salon. But he did say she wanted to see me, not that he did.
“You know, I liked Eli, but he wasn’t the best about showing affection or putting in effort. I’m happy Miles has no problem doing either of those things.”
“Let’s take a breath. He and I haven’t even been on a date.”
“Then it’s even more impressive that he drove over here on a Saturday, not knowing if you’d have a client or even a couple of minutes to spare.”
“M—”
“I’ll stop,” she cuts me off, holding up a hand. “I just wanted to point out something you likely missed, because you’re not used to having a guy put in effort.”
I want to tell her she’s wrong, but she’s not. Since she’s known me, I’ve been in a few relationships that I’ve kept afloat on my own, accepting the bare minimum from the men I’ve dated, not even realizing what I was doing until it was too late, and I exhausted myself. I thought Eli was different, and in some ways, he was. But in the end, it was none of the ways that actually counted.
“If you’re done, I’m going to get to work.”
“I’m done.” She gives me a soft smile, and I start to walk to the front desk but stop and turn on my heels. “I meant to ask you. One of my clients, Carol, needs a cut and color, but I don’t have any availability. Do you think you can fit her in?”
“Of course.”
“Awesome. Do you want me to call her, or do you want to?”
“Does Sammy know who she is?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call her.”
“You’re the best.”
“I know.” She grins at me, and I return that grin with one of my own, then walk over to greet my client.
CHAPTER 17
miles
“Win, it’s time to go!” I call from the living room after walking out of my bedroom. When she doesn’t answer or immediately come running out of her room, I frown and walk to her door that is wide open. “Win!” I call again, finding her room empty but her bathroom door closed. Again, she doesn’t answer, but I can hear a drawer slam, and something hit the floor. Without waiting, I turn the handle and push in the door, taking in the scene before squeezing my eyes closed. “Shit.”
“Bad word coin,” she whispers.
I open my eyes and wish I didn’t. Her hair that Emma cut and curled for her today is now lying in huge chunks on the counter and floor. The rest is in the garbage can she brought close to the sink.
“Winter Ann Thatcher.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but she still flinches at the use of her full name.
“I just wanted it shorter.” Tears fill her eyes, and my stomach clenches at the sight of them. Since she was born, I’ve despised each and every tear she’s cried, even the ones she’s used to get out of being in trouble. The ones now aren’t those kinds of tears. I can tell she’s scared, and it’s written all over her face that she knows she did something wrong.
With a deep breath, I walk into the bathroom and drop to my knees in front of her. “Come here.” I hold out my arms, and she falls against me, burrowing her wet face against my neck.