Second Chances (Nugget Romance 3) (11 page)

“Pregnant, huh?” Colin said, making a face that caused Harlee to laugh.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Colin.”

“You sure?” He winked at her and reached for her plate. “You done?”

“Yes, but I’ll help with the cleanup. What do you have for dessert?”

He pulled out the tin of shortbread cookies she’d given him and lifted the lid.

“You still have these?” she asked, surprised. “If they were in my house they’d be gone in a matter of hours. I’d think you were a health food nut, but too much of what you eat comes from a can.”

“I don’t eat a lot of sweets. But I like the cookies,” he added, not wanting to sound ungrateful for the gift.

“Is your sister’s family still coming for Thanksgiving?” It was a week away.

“We’re playing it by ear, depending on the weather. They can’t afford to get snowed in. The kids have school and Steve has a big job to finish on a deadline.”

“My parents are having the same dilemma. They were planning on coming up, but if there’s another storm . . .”

“Your brother too?” Colin tried to sound casual.

“No. They’re going to Leslie’s folks’,” she said. “Hey, Col, if your people can’t make it, you should come to my house. Even if my mom and dad come, we’re only three. That won’t bother you, right?”

“We’ll see.” Which was the universal code for no way in hell. But Harlee seemed to take it as a yes.

She got up from the table to help him with the dishes and they worked in companionable silence. A couple of times he brushed against her, feeling the soft curves of her body. He was finding it more and more difficult not to touch her. In every way a man could want a woman, Colin wanted Harlee. And for no reason he could understand, she wanted him too. He could see it in her body language and the way she looked at him.

In the three years he’d lived in Nugget, Colin hadn’t gone without. He was a thirty-one-year-old man with a healthy libido. But his hookups had been limited to just sex. No dinner, no dancing, not even much talking. The women had all tacitly agreed to the setup. Everyone got what they wanted out of the deal and no one got hurt.

But with Harlee that kind of arrangement would never fly. The woman was all heart. She embraced everything she did with gusto. Her work. Her friendships. Her projects. Fixing him.

Especially fixing him.

For someone like Colin, whose life had become so solitary and private that it wasn’t unusual for him to lock himself away in his wood shop for days without hearing another person speak, she should’ve been too much. Typhoid Harlee.

Instead, she made him question his limitations. She made him feel worthy, instead of an outcast living on the sidelines. She made him feel like a man. A desirable man.

But when she found out what he really was, he’d go back to feeling like himself again. A convicted criminal.

D
arla eyed Colin’s hair in the mirror before dropping his chair down two or three feet. Her last customer must’ve been a child.

“Maybe I should wait for Owen,” he said, already having second thoughts. Darla didn’t look like she knew what she was doing. And if Colin was going through with this, he wanted it to look good. He’d grown pretty attached to his long hair and frankly didn’t know what he’d look like without it.

“I told you already, my dad’s on a fishing trip. If you want it done now, I’m it.” She fluffed his hair with her hands, pulling strands this way and that, feeling the shape of his face like she thought she was a freakin’ sculptor. “I’m thinking a little less
Duck Dynasty
and a little more Charlie Hunnam.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Darla.”

“
Sons of Anarchy
. Don’t you watch it?”

“Nope.” Colin fidgeted nervously in his seat. The ceiling in the barbershop hung low. It felt like the white acoustic tiles were closing in on him. He tried his breathing exercises, but it was difficult to be inconspicuous while inhaling and exhaling with his hand on his diaphragm.

His appointment with the acupuncturist had been a bust as far as Colin was concerned. But Harlee kept telling him he couldn’t expect miracles from one visit. Thankfully, there wasn’t a pack of people in here today. He’d made sure of that, circling the barbershop at least six times before coming in. The only reason he finally did was because Donna Thurston came out of the Bun Boy and gave him the evil eye. She probably thought he was casing the place.

“It’s a television show about an outlaw motorcycle gang,” Darla replied.

“I don’t want to look like a member of an outlaw motorcycle gang. Just give me something clean-cut.”

“Charlie Hunnam is hot and you look like him—same bone structure. High cheekbones. Strong jaw. Trust me on this. If you don’t like it, I can always go Tom Cruise/
Top Gun
.”

When Colin didn’t say anything, Darla pressed, “Colin, I’m really good at this.”

“Okay,” he said. “But if I don’t like it, you can change it, right?”

“Uh-huh. You’ll look great. I promise.” She grinned at him in the mirror and Colin could see that she was ecstatic at the chance to get her hooks into him. She got him up out of the chair and walked him over to the shampoo bowl. “So you’re having Thanksgiving at Harlee’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Why he’d finally relented was a total mystery. But Harlee had a way of wearing a person down. Colin thought she might have some kind of reporter voodoo.

Darla adjusted the temperature of the water before leaning his head back into the sink. With a dollop of girly-smelling shampoo, she lathered up his hair, scrubbing his scalp and massaging the back of his neck. “Relax, Colin. Jeez, you’re over-the-top tense. This is supposed to be enjoyable.”

She put more glop in his hair and made him sit with it on for ten minutes. “This is a conditioner. It’ll work out all the tangles. I might come over after dinner, for dessert.”

Great. More people. Just what Colin needed. But right now he was focusing on getting out of the barbershop without having a full-on anxiety attack.

“Is that why you’re getting your hair cut, to look good for Harlee’s folks?” Darla rinsed him and wrapped his head with a towel, making a turban.

“No.” What did she think, that Harlee and he were an item? Well, they weren’t. “It was getting too long and out of control.”

She led him back to the chair. “When I’m done with you, you won’t recognize yourself.”

Yeah, that’s what he was afraid of.

Swishing a cape around his neck, Darla turned the chair so his back was to the mirror and began clipping away. “You have great hair, Colin.” His locks fell to the floor, making him cringe.

“Thanks, I guess. When is Owen coming back?” He figured if she screwed his hair up that bad, he could always have the barber fix it.

“Tonight, so he’ll be back in time to help me cook. We’re bringing the green-bean casserole to Ethel and Stu’s.” The couple owned the Nugget Market.

“Is he really serious about retiring?”

“He says he is.” Darla turned the chair sideways so she could focus on the back of his hair without him seeing himself in the mirror.

“Who will run this place?” Colin looked around the barbershop.

“
Moi
. Who else? Now hold your head still.” She grabbed his chin and straightened his shoulders. “Why do you think I moved back?”

Colin shrugged. “It just seems like a guys’ place.”

“Well, times have changed.” She continued to clip away, lifting sections of his hair with her fingers. He couldn’t see what he looked like, but already he felt lighter.

“Darla, why is Wyatt pacing in front of the barbershop?” The dude walked back and forth, back and forth until it made Colin dizzy. The Nugget police officer had always been courteous, more than likely oblivious to Colin’s past. But he was starting to worry Colin.

“I don’t know,” she said, annoyance tingeing her voice. “He comes around whenever I have a man in my chair.”

Colin started to turn his head, but she held him still. “Don’t move.”

He wondered if they were a couple. If so, he hadn’t heard. Every drop of news or gossip was telegraphed in Nugget like a twenty-four-hour cable broadcast. Even a loner like him usually got looped in on the doings and rumors of the town.

“We have some history,” she said. “But it’s over and done.”

Obviously not, if Wyatt kept coming around. But he didn’t say anything. Not his business.

“He wants me to go to dinner with him.” She let out a sigh, and Colin got the distinct impression Darla wanted him to weigh in. “Nine years ago, he left me at the lowest point of my life. Both of us should’ve been mourning. But he went off and joined the army. Didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye. Now, all of a sudden, he’s all over me. Weird, right?”

Why the hell was she telling him this? “Maybe he realizes he made a mistake, Darla. Maybe he wants to make amends.”

“So you think I should give him a chance?”

“I think you should do whatever is right for you,” he said, wondering how she was able to concentrate on his hair with all the chitchat. “Talk to Harlee about it. She’s probably a better sounding board.”

“Maybe,” Darla said. “But DataDate has made her a hard-ass. You should see the lies she’s caught people in. It’s enough to make you become a cynic for life.”

Colin could feel another wave of anxiety coming on. “You almost done?”

“Not quite.” She started strategically trimming his beard. “You’ve got a lot of hair, Colin.”

“Just shave it off, Darla.” He needed to get out before the room closed in on him.

“Remember, you said I could have my wicked way with you. Now just sit back and get comfortable. Let me work my magic.”

She wrapped a hot towel around his face, and he had to admit that the heat relaxed him somewhat. Not so good when she removed the towel, lathered him up, and started scraping at his facial hair with straight razor.

“Be careful with that thing, Darla.”

“I’ve been doing this since I was ten. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She finished with the razor and took another thirty minutes, snipping and trimming. Then she wrapped his face in another hot towel and aimed a blow dryer at him.

“What are you doing with that?” Colin asked.

“I’ll give you one guess.” Before he could answer, a blast of warm air hit the back of his shoulders. “I just want to get you dry before I shape you a little more.”

This might well rank as the longest haircut on record, Colin thought as Darla took another whack at his hair, doing weird crap with the sharp edge of the scissor.

“Colin, you’re in for a big surprise,” she said, finger-brushing his hair until she got it the way she wanted. After removing the hot towel from around his face, she continued to trim little wisps from his facial hair, moving his face from side to side.

When she finished, Darla just stood there, cocking her head from left to right, appraising him until he felt his face heat under her scrutiny.

Finally, she spun the chair around so he faced the mirror. Holy shit. He did a double take, not recognizing the person staring back at him. No longer did he look like a man who’d just come off the mountain. The difference was startling. Shocking, really.

“Well, what do you think?” Darla stood tapping her toe, waiting in anticipation.

Colin bent closer to the mirror, studying his profile and played with the sandy brown locks that barely hit his chin. “I think it’s pretty good,” he said.

She shot him a look. “How about, ‘Darla, you’re a flipping rock star.’ ”

After ringing him up at the register, Colin left a big tip and walked out onto the square, relieved to inhale a rush of cold air and embrace the wide open.

“Colin?” Maddy, who’d been leaving the police station, came walking toward him, wearing a quizzical expression on her face. “Is that you? Oh my God, you look amazing.”

He felt his cheeks turn red and said, “I got a haircut.”

“I’ll say. Owen didn’t do that, did he?”

“Owen’s fishing,” Colin said. “His daughter, Darla, did it.”

“You’re kidding.” She stepped back to take it all in. “It’s a beautiful cut. And I love how she did the goatee thing . . . It’s so
GQ
. What prompted this sudden makeover?”

He shrugged, his ears turning hot from the praise. “I was starting to look like a bum.”

“You look like a movie star now,” Maddy said, moving in closer so she could brush at his hair with her fingers.

“Hey, don’t get me on the wrong side of the law.” As if on cue, the police chief walked out onto the square.

“Honey,” Maddy called to her husband. “Come look at this gorgeous haircut Owen’s daughter just gave Colin.”

Rhys Shepard bobbed his chin at Colin in greeting.

“Doesn’t it look wonderful?” she prodded.

“
Sexy
,” Rhys said, and Colin had to stifle a grin. The chief turned to his wife. “You going back to the inn?”

“Just for an hour. I promise.” Rhys clucked over his pregnant wife like a mother hen. Colin was glad to see them happy. Maddy was one of the few people he counted as a friend, and when he’d first met her she’d been going through a rough patch.

“Colin,” she said, “I know that Sophie and Mariah already invited you, but I want to make sure you know how much we’d love to have you and your family for Thanksgiving. Emily is cooking. You don’t want to miss out on that.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks. I appreciate you including me. My family can’t make it, so I’m going to Harlee’s.”

“They’re not coming?” Maddy asked, surprised.

“No.” He looked up at the dark clouds that filled the sky. “They’re afraid that with the storm moving in, they won’t be able to get out.”

“Harlee, huh?” Maddy’s expression grew smug.

“Don’t read anything into it, Maddy. She’s my neighbor. That’s all.”

Pretty soon, he knew, the news of him having dinner with Harlee would be spread all over town. That’s the way it worked here. Even though he was only a bit player in Nugget, people were hard up for gossip. And Harlee, as pretty as she was, managed to draw a lot of attention.

“I’m not reading anything into it. Nor am I reading anything into the fact that you got that beautiful haircut.” She continued to grin in that self-satisfied, knowing way that made Colin feel like the liar he was.

“Don’t mind her.” Rhys came to Colin’s defense. “It’s hormones.”

“I better get going,” Colin said, looking up at the sky again, trying to gauge how long he had before the next dump of snow.

He wanted to bring a bouquet of flowers to tomorrow’s dinner and the pickings in Nugget were slim to none. There was a small market in Graeagle that sold nice arrangements, so he jumped on the highway and headed to the neighboring town. At least there, they had their own gossip. No one would care who he bought flowers for.

And if he decided to stock up on condoms for the long winter, no one would care about that either.

 

Harlee’s parents had made it as far as Donner Pass before turning back to the Bay Area. They’d forgotten chains and the roads were too treacherous to drive without them. It looked like it would just be Colin and her for dinner. And she’d made enough for an army.

She took away two place settings from the table, and replaced the silly cornucopia she’d bought at the Nugget Market with candlesticks, and lit them. May as well have a little ambience, since it would just be the two of them. Outside, the snow came down in buckets. Harlee had never seen so many flurries.

The sound of Colin’s truck engine pulled Harlee to the front door. Max bounded out of the passenger seat and covered her face with kisses as she bent down to hug him. Colin came bearing gifts too. A big bunch of mums, sunflowers, Gerber daisies, and roses. A bottle of Zinfandel and a jug of cider.

“Oh my goodness, Colin.” He’d gone to so much trouble.

“I didn’t know what to bring.”

When he handed her the flowers, Harlee reeled back in surprise. “You cut your hair . . . and your beard.” He still had scruff. A short, boxed beard, like Ryan Gosling. She’d thought he’d rocked the Grizzly Adams look, but now he was drop-dead gorgeous. And younger than she’d originally pegged him for, definitely closer to her age.

She walked around to check out the back of his hair. “Who did it?”

“Huh?” He turned around to face her. That’s when she noticed the dimple in his right cheek.

“Your hair. Who cut it?”

“Darla,” he said, definitely uncomfortable with the attention.

She moved in closer to brush back a stray lock. “You look amazing, Colin. And you smell good too.” He had on a woodsy cologne. And he’d dressed up in a crisp button-down shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans.