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Authors: Shelley Michaels

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‘Now, how about you help me forget all
about the bad things in my life and remind me of the good?’ He mutters down to
me, his mesmerising blue eyes penetrating mine with such lust, my heart almost
stops.

We finally fall asleep with our limbs a
tangle and me feeling safe and secure in the knowledge that he is getting
closer to solving who is responsible for Ollie’s death.

********

‘Nate!’ I cry out as I come hard, his
tongue lapping at sex as he continues to thrust his fingers deep inside me.

‘Oh yeah, baby,’ he growls, ‘on all
fours,’ he demands, helping me to flip over onto my stomach.  ‘Jesus,
fuck, Soph.  I’m not going to last five minutes at this rate,’ he
complains, lifting me up onto my knees and ploughing deep inside me, his hands
opening up the cheeks of my backside to sink deeper into my hot, wet depths.

‘Fuck, I’m coming again,’ I cry out,
barely having time to recover from the last orgasm before more waves engulf me.
He quickens his pace, pounding in and out, around and around as my inside
clench him into me. 

‘Fuck!’ Nate growls and shudders his
release, collapsing on top of me, pushing me into the mattress.  ‘What the
fuck,’ he lifts onto his elbows to relieve me of his weight.  ‘I feel
about thirteen years old,’ he complains, ‘can’t control my dick!’

I giggle, exhaustedly.  ‘Bloody
hell, Nate,’ I pant, ‘I’ve had more orgasms in the past twelve hours than I
have in the past twelve months,’ I express, tiredly.

‘You woke me up, beautiful,’ his lips
find the crook of my neck.  ‘There I was, in the land of nod, when some
siren decides she wants to suck my dick dry.’

‘It’s a good dick,’ I comment.

He chuckles, his body shaking with
amusement, ‘you got two hours until you have to leave for the airport, you want
to get some shut eye?’ he pulls out of me, ‘or you want to clean up and explore
some more?’

********

Thankfully, by the time I arrive back in
Krystal, the paperwork I had been waiting for had arrived.  I had my
social security number and the relevant licenses to work the salon, a way of
clawing back some of the unforeseen expenses I had faced when moving into
Ollie’s.  If I could earn some money while waiting for answers, it meant I
could stay longer. 

Nate was still in Boston, having more to
investigate, but he had driven me to the airport and kissed me senselessly in
the car, before notifying me he would be back in Krystal mid-week.

I spend the weekend preparing the salon
for opening on Monday morning. I hadn’t confided in anyone my intended plans
for the salon, in case there was a problem with the paperwork, and now wonder
if I should have put out some fliers to alert potential clients of my existence. 

Krystal operated by word of mouth; I figured
that all it would take is to open the doors and offer an inexpensive
introductory price, and hopefully clients would come running.  Krystal
itself didn’t have a woman’s salon, so I would entice the women in with the
pure fact that I was on their doorstep.

I appear at Ellie’s Sunday lunchtime,
craving some girlie company and good food, and knowing Ellie will satisfy that
hankering.

‘Hey, girl!’ She grins, as I enter the
doorway.  She comes forward and hugs me tight, ‘I’ve missed your funny
accent, how did the funeral go?’ She guides me to my table and sits opposite
me.

‘Sad, but okay,’ I nod, wondering whether
she was aware of Nate’s intention to join me.  ‘But best of all, it’s
over,’ I state.  ‘Thank you for your support El’s,’ I send her a heartfelt
smile.  ‘You have been so kind to me, and I want you to know how much I
appreciate your friendship.’

‘Jesus, girl, you dying or something?’
Ellie’s eyebrows raise to the ceiling.

I giggle, ‘I mean it, thank you.’

She waves a hand, dismissing my
gratitude.  ‘You hungry?’

‘Starving,’ I admit.  ‘What’s the
special?’

‘Meatloaf?’ she asks.

‘Fuck, no! Looks like dog food,’ I twist
my mouth disapprovingly.  ‘I’ll have breakfast if I may, pancakes and
eggs?’

‘Cheeky bitch!’ She calls, but smiles as
she makes her way to the kitchen.  ‘Soda?’

‘Diet, please,’ I call.

‘Light!’ she corrects me.

‘Jesus fuck, woman,’ I roll my eyes.

Ellie giggles, ‘someone’s been around my
brother for an extended amount of time,’ she winks.

 Yeah, she knows.

********

Monday morning dawns to a hot, humid day
in Krystal.  I am up at the crack of dawn, eager to begin the day.  I
dress in a short floaty, floral skirt, tank top and push my feet into my wedge
sandals before I prepare a breakfast of muesli and yoghurt. 

I had called through an order to Ollie’s
supplier, but he wouldn’t entertain me as a customer until I settled Ollie’s
overdue account, which reluctantly I did.  I was beginning to haemorrhage
money just paying off a few of my brother’s debts, and it was now becoming
crucial that I bring some money in rather than continually pay out. I had a substantial
savings account, thankfully, due to the success of my own business, but that
would only last for so long.

Anxiety curls in my stomach as I open the
doors to Ollie’s salon.  I put the flex sign on the pavement, or sidewalk
in the United States, and pull down the awning that covers the front of the
shop.  I’m set to go.

I watch with baited breath as the town
begins to wake and people pass by curiously peering inside the barbershop. 
I wonder what they make of me opening my dead brother’s business.  

‘Morning Ma’am,’ the police officer
enters the shop and glances around suspiciously.  I imagine this must be
Frank, who was the first person I met in Krystal, on the night I arrived.

‘Good morning,’ I call, pleasantly. 
‘Are you looking for a haircut,’ I ask, cheekily.

His lips twitch, ‘not today, Ma’am. 
I noticed the paperwork approving your license to trade here, thought I would
pass by and introduce myself.  Officer Frank White, Ma’am,’ he tips the
hat of his uniform.

‘Oh, how sweet of you,’ I smile, holding
out my hand.  ‘No more of this Ma’am business, Officer White,’ I tease,
‘Sophie Parker.’

He grasps my hand and squeezes it
lightly, ‘pleased to meet you, Miss Parker.’

‘Sophie, please,’ I send him one of my
most dazzling smiles. 

‘Sophie,’ he nods.  ‘No customers?’

‘Not yet, I guess it’s early days,’ I
shrug.  ‘If you could pass on the word that I am open for business, I’d
appreciate it,’ I asked boldly.

‘Sure will, Ma’am,’ he nods, this time I
don’t correct him. I guess he feels more comfortable calling me Ma’am. 
‘Anything you need now, you call the sheriff’s office, you hear?’

‘Of course, and thank you, Officer
White,’ I call him, but he’s already walking out of the door.

An hour later, a tornado, in the form of
a very pretty sapphire eyed woman, enters, ‘what the fuck, Sophie Parker,’
Ellie calls, standing before me with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

‘What?’ I puzzle. Shit!  Maybe she
didn’t know about Nate and me and has just found out.

‘You have to learn to communicate better,
since when are you opening your brother’s salon?’ She speaks in an accessory
tone.

‘What?’ I garble, shocked by the fury on
her expression.

‘You don’t think it’s polite to inform
your girls that you are opening your brother’s salon?’ She questions, ‘Does
Nate know?’

‘No, and no,’ I respond, blandly.

‘Honey, if people don’t know you are
opening, how are people gonna know you have opened?’ She expresses as if I am a
five-year-old child.

‘Word of mouth,’ I inform her, scowling
towards her.

‘Word of whose mouth?’ She splutters,
‘you don’t tell anyone, how can they spread it?’

‘It’ll get about, by tomorrow the whole
of Krystal will know,’ I scoff.

She frowns, ‘right!’  Swivelling on
her heels, she exits as promptly as she entered, leaving me dumbfounded.

An hour later, a group of six girls,
three of them I met at the Karaoke bar a couple of weeks ago, enter the salon
in a waft of perfume.

‘Hey doll,’ Beth announces, hugging me
swiftly into her bosom.  ‘Me and my girls need to make some hair
appointments, is that cool?’

‘Of course,’ I grab the diary, awaiting
their requirements.  I booked the girls for their various trims, styling
and colours and two of them asked whether I did manicures.  I decide on
the spot that I would go where the work takes me and mentally order a nail
table for the front of the shop, along with the products I require. 
‘Yeah, I can do that,’ I nod.

‘Great!  She does beauty, girls,’
she calls over to the others who are busy admiring the figure of Detective Johnson,
from the front window as he walks up the street toward the shop.

‘No way!’ One of them explodes.   I
then proceed to book in manicures and pedicures and hoped and prayed I could
get a swift order from Ollie’s supplier.

Detective Johnson enters the shop and
takes in the gaggle of women. 

‘Ladies,’ he purrs, confidently and they almost
melt on the spot.  They all respond to his greeting with a girly, ‘
Hi
,’
as they touch their already immaculate hair.  Detective Johnson is clearly
considered a catch.

He is a looker, without a doubt, all
blonde and surfer dude with his green eyes and luscious lips.  Not Nate,
dark and dangerous, a different genre of gorgeousness.  His eyes move
directly to Beth, and he provides her a sexy smile of her own.  She
flushes, her eyes lighting at his arrival.  It looks like there’s mutual
appreciation between them.

‘Hello, Detective Johnson,’ I smile,
welcomingly.  ‘You need a trim?’

He runs a hand through his blonde locks,
‘actually, I probably could do with a bit off,’ he states.  ‘But, that
isn’t why I am here,’ he grins. 

‘Oh, okay,’ I glance over at the girls
who are almost dribbling at the sight before them.

Beth calls, ‘we should go,’ and hustles
the girls out. ‘Tomorrow, at three?’ Beth checks over her shoulder at me.

‘Tomorrow at three,’ I confirm, with a
wave, before turning my attention back to Detective Johnson.

‘What can I do for you, Detective?’ I ask
politely, ‘is there any news on Ollie’s investigation?’

‘Not directly,’ he points to a leather
chair sat in front of one of the workstations.

‘Of course, please,’ I invite, sitting my
backside on the edge of the adjacent chair, anxiety stirring my middle.

‘Brad,’ he smiles, ‘the name, Brad.’

‘Oh okay,’ I relax slightly, surely if it
were something of major importance, Brad wouldn’t be so chilled. ‘Please, call
me Sophie,’ I insist.

‘Okay, Sophie.  I just wanted to
check on a few things.  Nate was hoping to be able to have a chat about
this with you himself, but is up to his eyes in shit in Boston,’ he updates
me. 

‘Is he okay?’ I ask, my insides tightening
at the possibility that this has something to do with my dad and the funeral.

‘He’s ace,’ he assures me, ‘Nate told you
about your brother’s habits?’

‘Drug habits, yeah,’ I nod, patiently.

‘Just for peace of mind, more than
anything, we are going to be keeping an eye on the property,’ he glances around
the salon, ‘both down here and the apartment upstairs.’

‘Keep an eye out?’ I echo.

‘Yeah, drivebys, dropping by to make sure
all is cool. Nate suggested we fill you in beforehand rather than spook you,
that okay by you?’ He quizzes, positively.

‘I guess,’ my brain is racing one hundred
to the dozen.  ‘Why?’ I finally ask.

‘Why?’ He repeats.

‘Why do you feel the need to drive by and
drop in?’ I elaborate, suddenly feeling very apprehensive.

He sends me a measuring glance for a
moment before responding, ‘your brother was into drugs, Sophie,’ he announces,
‘with drugs comes dealers, you get me?’

‘I think so,’ I mumble.

‘Oliver owed some of those dealers a
hoard of cash,’ he explains, carefully.

‘You think one of those dealers killed my
brother because he owed them money,’ I finally comprehend the necessity for
protection.

‘It’s a possibility. Nate wants you kept
safe,’ he confides.

‘I thought Nate was working with his own
people,’ I relay the information Brad gave me last week.

He nods, ‘that’s correct, his people are
in Denver, Eli is in Denver working from a different angle,’ he confides, ‘I’m
here, I will protect you until the time comes you don’t need protecting, or
Nate does it himself.’

‘Okay, do we know how long this
protection is going to last?’ I question.

‘Until we feel you are no longer under
any threat,’ he expresses, ‘maybe I’ll grab a cut while I’m here.’ He spins in
the chair and regards his reflection in the mirror opposite.  ‘I imagine
once the word gets out the stunning Brit will run her hands through your hair, for
a price, every guy in Krystal will be visiting your salon,’ he compliments me,
although I know he is purposely distracting me.

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