The Beauty Within (5 page)

“Yo, don’t think you’re gonna leave here without tellin’ a brotha some-

thin’!” Damon said, following Gunnar to his office. “Spill! I mean what I said.”

“I don’t understand your confusion,” Gunnar evaded.

“Are you serious?”

Gunnar just looked at him.

Damon closed the door and sat opposite of Gunnar’s desk. He allowed

Gunnar to make a show of doing paperwork before he went for the jugular.

“Do
not
string her along, man. I just may forget you’re my boss if you do.”

Gunnar looked at Damon with an arched brow. “String her along?”

“I’m a man, and I have male friends, and mostly all of my male friends are

heterosexual. I know that tone—hell, I’ve
used
that tone—you’re interested.

You just be real sure about what exactly your interest is. It may not be official

yet, but Tyler’s my baby sister in every sense of the word, and I will fuck you

up if you fuck her up, you understand?”

Gone was the amicable and open expression that usually graced Damon’s

face. He was all seriousness, and Gunnar didn’t even bother to deny what

Damon had said. He was interested, but he wouldn’t try anything with Tyler.

Though he knew she found him attractive, Tyler didn’t seem the type of

woman who would give a man consideration just because he was easy on the

eyes. She was a woman who needed substance, and while he thought he had

some, his might not be the kind of substance that would interest her.

“Is this because I’m white?” Gunnar asked. He didn’t think Damon would

care, but Gunnar thought it better to ask anyway.

“Hell no! You could be blue and brown with yellow and orange stripes!

Trust, ‘asshole’ is not designated to one race.”

Gunnar heard the bitterness in Damon’s tone that he had a gut feeling it

had little to do with this present conversation. He wanted to ask what had

happened to make Damon so protective over his girlfriend’s sister, but it really

wasn’t any of his business. He still planned to go to Soul Cuts again—the

prices were fair and the barber was talented—but it would only be a profes-

sional relationship.

Nothing more.

Tyler really wished she were more surprised to see Gunnar walking

through the door than she was, but she’d been expecting…hoping…he would

stop by for another haircut again.

She refused to think of the implications of doing so.

The Beauty Within

27

It had been two weeks since his first visit, and she hadn’t seen or spoken to

him since then; but given the way Damon had interrogated and Wendy had

teased, Tyler had deduced Gunnar had said something to warrant such

reactions. It was bad enough her sister had sniffed out her attraction from the

beginning, but the fact Damon all but said Gunnar had some interest in her

was a little more than disconcerting. Wendy, of course, had taken that and ran

all the way to the altar and a house in the suburbs, and Tyler had to tell both of

them just because there was a possible mutual attraction, that didn’t necessari-

ly mean anything would come of it or that she even wanted something to

happen. It was possible to window shop without going into the store and

making the purchase, after all.

Possible, but damn hard sometimes.

Gunnar was wearing his usual leather jacket and smirk, but instead of the

breakaway pants he’d been wearing the last time, black jeans hugged his

strong thighs and ass she knew damn well would make an excellent trampo-

line for a quarter. He took off the jacket and hung it on the coat rack this time,

revealing a deep blue crew neck sweater that enhanced the musculature of his

torso and arms.

She
really
needed to buy a new smock!

Tyler shook her head. The smock she wore had been her father’s, and its

sentimental value made it priceless. She would not become so silly over a man

to replace her father’s smock for one that would make her, what, sexier? Please.

“Hello, Mr. Daniels,” she said. She’d been sweeping when he entered, and

she hadn’t paused in her chore.

“Ms. Carver. How are you?”

“Fine. You? How may I help you?”

He brushed a hand over his head. “Can I get a haircut? I know I didn’t

make an appointment, but I figured it would be okay to walk in since the last

time I was here it wasn’t busy.”

Tyler shrugged, trying to go for a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Sure. You

can have a seat—”

“Ah…I was wondering if I could get a wash too? I figure I should go for the

full effect since I missed out on it last time.”

Tyler eyed him. His smirk didn’t seem as cocky as it had been in the past.

In fact, there was a hint of red in his neck and cheeks, and she was suddenly

struck by the fact he seemed nervous. She blinked at him, not knowing what to

do with that revelation.

“Oh…”

“I mean it’s okay if—”

“Sure,” Tyler said quickly, then shook her head in bemusement. This was

the strangest man she’d ever met. “It won’t cost extra if that’s what you’re

thinking.”

“That’s very nice of you to throw in a wash,” Gunnar said with a wink.

28

Savannah J. Frierson

She refused to acknowledge the heat that had flooded her body. “You can

have a seat at the bowl. I’ll be right with you.”

She quickly swept the debris into a neat pile on the dustpan and threw it

in the trash. She set the broom and the dustpan in the corner before going to

her bathroom and washing her hands. When she returned Gunnar was still

sitting up right, looking at her with a tiny grin on his face.

“What?”

“You’re so thorough.”

“Thorough?”

“Yes. It’s not a bad thing. It’s actually quite refreshing.”

“Is it?”

Gunnar nodded. He was staring at her again. She’d never known eyes to

have such a presence of their own, but his did. It didn’t matter that the rest of

him was such an impeccable specimen of the male form, his eyes ensnared her

every time. He probably spoke more with his eyes than with his mouth, and

Tyler admitted she tended to like what his eyes said.

She shivered slightly.

“Are you cold?”

“A little,” she mumbled, though that was the farthest from the truth. She

went to him and pressed against his shoulders to get him to lean back. His eyes

were ever on her, piercing as always, and Tyler wondered if she would be able

to complete her job without making an absolute fool of herself.

“Let me know if the temperature is okay,” she murmured, turning on the

water. She took the nozzle and wet his hair gently, breathing a sigh of relief

when his eyes slid closed. Now she would be able to work.

“Feels great,” he said, his voice a low hum. Her body matched that hum.

She was dismayed by how it reacted to him. She hadn’t felt this way since…

She shook her head, refusing to darken her day with thoughts of
that
time.

Tyler squeezed a dime-size amount of shampoo on her hand and began

washing his hair. Again, the unusual sensation of his strands on her skin struck

her, but it wasn’t unpleasant in the least. He seemed to be completely relaxed,

and she smiled a little. Ever since Tyler was young, she’d been intrigued by

hair, especially since her father had owned the barbershop. She and Wendy

had loved coming into the shop on weekends, but Wendy had been more

interested in the gossip than in their father’s profession. As soon as Tyler

became old enough, her father had begun apprenticing her on the skills of a

barber. He’d also started talking to her about what would happen to the shop

once he retired. Of course, they had both agreed she would go to college, but

whenever she had wanted to return home and work she always had a station

with her name on it.

Tyler had gone to North Carolina Central University and earned a degree

in Business Administration. During this time, she also attended Carolina

Beauty College part-time, and by senior year in college, she’d had her cosme-

The Beauty Within

29

tology license. Wendy had thought her insane doing all that work, but Tyler

had wanted to be completely prepared upon graduation from NCCU.

It was a good thing she had been.

“How are you doing?” Tyler asked, rinsing his hair. She would give him one

more shampoo before cutting it.

“You have very calming hands.”

Tyler grinned. She’d been told that before. “My daddy used to say a gentle

touch was the best touch.”

Those gray eyes opened and seared her. “He’s right, you know.”

Tyler squeezed more shampoo on her hand and began washing his hair

again. “He usually was.”

His full lips curled slightly before he dragged his eyes back closed. It was

very awkward to wash his hair with her arms completely extended, but she

was afraid he would feel how hot and primed her body was if she were any

closer to him. He
must
know what he did to her, making her crazy from his

nearness. Perhaps she would need to blindfold him whenever he came for a cut

so she could function properly!

Eventually Tyler talked some sense into herself and positioned herself

more comfortably by the bowl. She ignored how her breasts would brush

against his head whenever she adjusted to wash his nape, or whenever she

needed to wash the farther side of his head. She took the nozzle and rinsed his

hair once more.

This was going to be a long appointment.

Perhaps getting a wash was a bad idea. How Gunnar managed to control

his body, he would never know, but he was thankful for it. Feeling Tyler’s

hands and…other…parts against his head nearly had him needing a new set of

boxers. She was far too attractive for his liking, and he wondered if she knew

just how appealing she was. But he’d promised Damon he wouldn’t be the one

to show her, no matter how his body yearned otherwise.

She dried his hair with a towel, and it was all he could do not to rest his

head against her breasts. His hands itched to roam every voluptuous curve of

her, but Gunnar knew that would only earn an elbow in the eye or worse.

“You can go sit in the chair,” Tyler said, pulling the towel from his hair. He

nodded and did as told, watching her rinse out the shampoo bowl and throw

the used towel in a hamper through the mirror. She returned with a fresh towel

and folded it along his neck before putting a styling cape around him. “Would

you like the same cut as last time?”

“Sure.”

Their eyes met briefly in the mirror, but she averted hers quickly. Gunnar

was glad he’d given her this robe-thing to wear; it hid his reaction to her very

effectively. They were quiet when she first started, Gunnar unwilling to break

her concentration, but he didn’t want to waste this trip with silence. He

30

Savannah J. Frierson

struggled with trying to find something to say, then mentally kicked himself

for not asking the obvious.

“How long have you had the shop?”

Her eyes skipped to his in the mirror before going back to his hair. “Almost

six years, but it’s been in my family going on fifty years. My grandfather started

it, though it had been an unofficial thing from his house, then in ’67 Daddy got

a lease on this place and named the business Soul Cuts—it was the height of

the Civil Rights/Black Is Beautiful movement when he did that. Then since

Daddy only had two girls and I was the one who was interested, it came to me

right when I graduated college. I’ve been the owner ever since.”

“Did he retire then?”

Tyler cleared her throat. “He passed.”

“Oh…” Gunnar felt like the world’s biggest loser. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Tyler said, giving him a tremulous smile. “He prepared me well

to take over the business, so the transition had been relatively seamless. It may

seem like I don’t get a lot of business whenever you come, but every day except

for Wednesdays this place is hopping and full of activity. I’m actually glad

there’s the reprieve. It gives me a day to recharge for the rest of the week.”

Gunnar smiled, fully appreciating the sentiment. Tuesdays were his slow

days, which was why Damon had the day off. It was nice to have one day of the

week to relax and catch up if necessary.

“Do you do more than cut hair?”

“Yes, though primarily I function as a barber. I have folks who rent out the

other stations here, and I have a nail technician come Tuesday, Thursday, and

Friday because she has classes Monday and Wednesdays, and two hair stylists

who come every day but they leave before four so they can pick up their

children. It’s a very fluid shop, and it works because all the customers have

different schedules, and there’s always someone here. I pick up the slack if one

of the stylists can’t make it, though. I’m here every day except for the week-

ends. I know it’s untraditional, but my father and grandfather were never open

on the weekends and our customers seem to respect that. If it’s an absolute

emergency then we will, but those are generally rare.”

Gunnar was fascinated by what he learned. He thought old-school busi-