The Beauty Within (8 page)

He grinned a little. “Sorry.”

She looked over his shoulder into the den. “Commercial?”

“Yeah. Carolina’s on San Diego’s thirty-five. First down. About forty-five

seconds remaining.”

Tyler shook her head and leaned against the counter. “I can’t take it. I can’t

take
we’re so close we can taste it! I know y’all think I’m a wuss but I really

just…” She let her speech fade and she shook her head again.

“I understand,” Gunnar said, approaching her slowly. “Many times when I

sat on the sidelines I had my head bowed with a towel over it. It’s nerve-

wracking, especially when all you can do is watch—”

“Exactly!” Tyler exclaimed, seemingly happy someone understood her

plight. “I can scream and cheer and cuss myself hoarse, but at the end of the

day it’s up to twenty-two players, and I ain’t one o’ ’em.”

As if on cue, the roar of the television interrupted their conversation, and

Tyler eased to the threshold of the open den. Gunnar stood beside her, glancing

between the set and the woman, listening to her mumbled prayer underneath

her breath. Though the team was only down by three, everyone in the room

wanted it to go for the touchdown. End the drama now instead of stretching it

out to overtime. Go out with a bang even if it wasn’t with a win.

Gunnar eased closer to Tyler, not on purpose, but because he couldn’t

think of anything else to do. She’d turned her face into the wall when a pass

42

Savannah J. Frierson

went incomplete, burning up a precious down. A few moments later, boister-

ous yelling let her know her team had made progress, eating up eight yards

leaving them with only two to convert. Spurred by some unknown force,

Gunnar took her hand in his, and Tyler, perhaps too caught up in the drama to

notice or protest, squeezed it for support.

“Two yards, baby…two yards…”

The team got it and then some, Powers going on a breakaway only to be

tackled at the seven-yard line. Tyler squealed and jumped, still holding

Gunnar’s hand, and he smiled. He hoped the Panthers won if only to see that

joy light up her face.

Four downs to go.

The first was a modest gain of two yards with the running game. The

second down featured a deflected pass that could’ve been an interception had

the defender had better fingers. Tyler sagged against the wall but still hadn’t

let go of his hand. He rubbed the back of hers.

“They have at least two more downs,” Gunnar reminded her.

“But the time…”

There was less than twenty seconds to go.

The Panthers called a timeout and Gunnar could practically feel the an-

xiousness humming under her skin. He tightened his hold on her hand. Tyler’s

eyes remained transfixed on the screen, and when the whistle blew signaling

the resumption of play, she practically went stiff in anticipation.

The action on the set drifted to slow motion, five seconds of play feeling

like fifty. There was a snap ball, a drop back, the quarterback’s frantic search

for an open man, and then to the brief horror of all in the room, a run. Their

quarterback was
not
known for running, and the fact he was doing so now

during the most important drive of the game made everyone breathless.

So did the fumble.

The sight of the pigskin skidding on the ground into the end zone unat-

tended even stopped Gunnar’s heart, and when an avalanche of Panthers and

Chargers fell upon it, no one knew who would come out the victor.

It was deathly quiet in the den. Player after player was peeled off the pile,

both sides claiming they had possession. Tyler hid her face in Gunnar’s

shoulder, muttering, “Please, please, please, please!” as if her will alone could

make it so.

Damon gasped. “Oh, my goddamn.”

The shouting happened a split-second later. Even Gunnar was shocked to

see the referee hold his arms straight in the air. Touchdown. The Carolina

Panthers had won.

Pandemonium had taken over the den. Popcorn and chips became confetti

as everyone was too excited to remember or care each had laps full of food.

“Did that just happen?”

The Beauty Within

Gunnar looked to Tyler, who was leaning heavily against the wall, her eyes

fixed on a faraway place, glazed. He smiled and stood in front of her, dropping

her hand in favor of grasping her shoulders.

“They won.”

“Oh, my goodness…”

“They won—!”

Her shriek almost burst his eardrums, but he didn’t care because he sud-

denly had an armful of Tyler Carver. Her ecstasy was contagious, and he began

laughing and twirling her in celebration. Wendy came in the kitchen and he let

Tyler go so the sisters could hug each other. Damon came behind her and gave

Gunnar an appraising look.

“What a game, huh?” Damon asked, lifting his beer in congratulations.

Gunnar’s eyes drifted to Tyler and his smile softened. What a game indeed.

Five

Tyler was clearly still riding the high of the Panthers’ victory when Gunnar

came into the shop that Wednesday. Her greeting was warm and her smile was

bright, and he could do naught but return it. Like the last time, Gunnar hadn’t

washed his hair, knowing he was throwing himself into the lion’s den but the

wash extended his time with her by at least fifteen minutes, not to mention she

had really magical hands.

“Evening, Gunnar,” Tyler said cheerily, her hair pulled back with a head-

band. It made her appear younger, more innocent. She wasn’t wearing a smock

today, just a sweatshirt from what he guessed was her alma mater and black

pants that hugged her hips and legs.

“You’re in a good mood,” Gunnar said, walking straight to the shampoo

bowl.

Tyler arched an eyebrow at him. “I see.”

“You see what?”

Tyler shook her head, grabbing a clean towel and a shampoo cape. “No

need to ask if you want a wash, huh? I forgot to put this around you last time. I

hope you didn’t get too wet.”

“No, it was fine,” Gunnar said, hoping he wasn’t as breathless as he

sounded while she put first the towel, then the cape around him. He remem-

bered how soft and warm she’d felt in his embrace, and he gripped the arms of

the chair so he wouldn’t try for a repeat performance. “You smell like oranges.”

She pulled back and grinned at him. “One of my clients spilled orange juice

all over me earlier. Misha. Three goin’ on thirty I swear! She was trying to tug

my hair and the sippy cup’s top wasn’t on as tightly as it should’ve been!”

He smiled, thinking of his own rambunctious nieces. One was five and the

other was two, and both had the looks of an angel with the mischievousness of

the devil. “Totally understand.”

The Beauty Within

45

“You do?”

“Inge has two daughters around the same age as your client. Inge says

they’re a handful but they’re good with me.”

“Is Inge older or younger?”

“Younger by three years.”

“Gotcha.”

She began washing his hair and they paused the conversation briefly. As

before, her fingers were firm but gentle, and his body relaxed. This was a far

better reaction from the arousal he’d felt the first time. The spray from the

nozzle soothed him, and he reached a serenity he hadn’t felt since his days in

LA when he’d dated a New Age chick who had insisted he get himself

“cleansed” once a week.

For some reason this shampooing seemed to take less time than the first

one, but Gunnar didn’t mind too much. He sat up as she began drying his hair

with a towel, and he gave her a smile that she returned.

“And Wendy’s older?”

“By two years.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“
Really
?” He had no idea she was that young.

“Yes. How old did you think I was?”

“Older than that.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-four.”

She blinked at him, stilling her movements. “I thought you were younger!”

“Boyish good looks,” Gunnar said with a wink.

Tyler snorted and pulled off the shampoo cape. “That’s a theory. But yeah,

Wendy’s thirty, which means Inge is older than both of us! Y’all’s ancient!”

Gunnar laughed. “You have a maturity beyond your years.”

Tyler nodded, pointing to her chair. He went to it and sat, watching her

progress through the mirror. “I’ve heard that before.”

“Does it bother you?”

She shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m not really inclined to change it.”

“Don’t. It works for you.”

She smiled slightly and picked up her shears. “Same cut or do we want to

branch out this week?”

“We can branch,” Gunnar said, interested to see what she would do this

time.

She put down the shears and turned on the clippers, the buzz making him

sit up in anticipation. Her skillful hand pulled the clippers through his hair.

Gunnar didn’t have time to be concerned with how much of his hair floated to

the vinyl floor; he was too busy watching her. That look of concentration was

back on her face, and he noticed she had a tendency to draw her bottom lip

Savannah J. Frierson

between her teeth and her nostrils would flare gently. He remembered Tyler

had done the same thing when she’d been trying to repeat his movements

during the abysmal training session. He wondered what else would make her

face fall into such an expression.

She turned off the clippers. “So…what do you think?”

It was a buzz cut, though not as close to the scalp as it could’ve been. It

brought out the sharp angles of his face and his eyes, and though he’d never

worn his hair that short, he liked it.

“Nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yes,” Gunnar said, running his palm over his hair. “Easy maintenance at

least.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Man, if I had enough guts I’d do the same to

my hair.”

“No…I like your hair as it is.”

“Looking a piping hot mess!” Tyler chuckled, her hand going into her hair

self-consciously.

“Oh, well in that case, give me the clippers and I can fix it for you!”

Tyler giggled and popped him on the head with a comb she’d picked up to

put away. “You’re so silly! I would’ve never thought you were so silly when we

first met.”

“I left quite a first impression, didn’t I?”

Tyler’s giggles faded away, but the remnants of a smile remained. “Then

that was mutual. I wasn’t all that nice to you, either.”

“But that’s changed. We’re nice to each other now.”

“Yes.”

“We might even be friends?”

“Maybe.”

Gunnar grinned and nodded. If they weren’t now, they were well on their

way towards friendship. He doubted she would let a non-friend lift her in his

arms as she celebrated her favorite team’s victory. Gunnar was a patient fellow;

he could wait for her to admit what he already knew.

They liked each other.

It shocked Tyler a little to discover how
right
he was. This man, who had

been so rude to her that she’d wanted to claw out his striking eyes, had

actually turned out to be among the nicest men she’d met outside of Damon in

a long time. Even Damon’s friends, with whom she did get along very well,

didn’t make her feel completely comfortable as Gunnar had.

Well, not
completely
comfortable, as there was still that nagging matter of

her attraction to him.

Nevertheless, he hadn’t teased her when her emotions had gotten away

from her and she had practically jumped in his arms. Had he been any other

The Beauty Within

47

guy at the party—including Damon—she would’ve never heard the end of it.

And she hadn’t broken Gunnar’s back, either, which was always a definite

plus.

Tyler shook her head and chastised herself. She really should stop. She

acted like she was the weight of the
Titanic
! Gunnar hadn’t crumbled under her

weight, and in fact, he’d held her as if she’d weighed nothing more than a large

sack of flour. It had been nice. She hadn’t been lifted like that in a long time.

It was intoxicating.

“That’s a Mona Lisa smile if I’ve ever seen one.”

He startled her, causing her to knock the clippers from the cart. She

winced at the device smacking the floor, and when she bent to retrieve it, her

lower back pinched in a most awful way.

“Damn!”

“You all right?”

No, she wasn’t. She grabbed the clippers and stood slowly, hoping the

cramp would ease soon. Maybe her excitement over the weekend had made her

body tight, so that meant no sudden movements for a while.

“Tyler?”

“I’ll be fine. No need to worry about me,” Tyler said, hoping her smile

didn’t come out as a grimace. The pain was starting to fade, thank goodness,

but she didn’t want to aggravate it further so she kept her movements slow.

“Here,” Gunnar murmured, and before she could protest he was behind her

and kneading the trouble spot. Tyler damn near moaned as his strong hands

and fingers worked out the spasm, and she gave a silent chuckle as she remem-

bered her doctor jokingly prescribe a young man who could massage the kinks