Read Christmas On Nutcracker Court Online
Authors: Judy Duarte
Christmas On Nutcracker Court (18 page)
He was wearing a light blue Hawaiian shirt and a pair of jeans. A hank of his sun-streaked hair had fallen on his forehead as he bent over his work.
If things fell into place the way Lynette hoped they would, Carly would be a very lucky lady.
Lynette had been lucky, too. But while Hank had been a blessing and a wonderful man in so many ways, Lynette might have loved him in a husbandly rather than brotherly fashion if he'd looked a little more like Grant Barrows and a little less like a stylish and contemporary version of Old Saint Nick.
Still, she wasn't looking for another husband. If she were on the prowl, it would be a real plus if the guy was not only wealthy, kind, and generous, but young and handsome, too.
As Grant heard her approach, he looked up from his yard work and smiled. “Is that for me?”
“The plant?” She laughed. “No, it's for Maggie. But when I saw you out here, I thought I'd ask how your interview went.”
“As well as could be expected, I guess.”
She wasn't sure if that was good or bad, so she let it go. “I wanted to tell you that I talked to Carly, the hairstylist I was telling you about. And she's got an opening on Monday afternoon at twelve thirty. I told her to pencil you in. Will that work for you?”
“Sure,” he said. “Why not.”
Lynette brightened. “I can meet you there and introduce you two.”
“Sounds good,” he said. “Maybe we can get a bite to eat afterward.”
“Good idea. I'll ask Carly if she's free to join us.”
“Carly?”
Lynette nodded. “She's single. And she's also very attractive. I think you'll like her.”
Grant's smile dimmed. “I thought she was looking for new clients. Sounds like she's looking for more than that.”
“Oh, no.” Lynette hadn't meant to be so obvious and tried to backpedal. “Carly is career-focused right now. Of course, once you see her, you might be tempted to ask her out. And it would probably do her a world of good if she spent some time away from the salon for a change.”
Grant seemed to think on that for the longest time. Finally, his gaze locked in on hers, threatening to turn her inside out, if she'd let him, and asked, “Is Carly as pretty as you?”
A bevy of butterflies took flight in Lynette's tummy, and she struggled to make sense of it. Compliments always did that to her. But then again, so did young and handsome men who were the least bit friendly. But she shook it off.
“Carly is much prettier than I could ever hope to be.” And that was true since the brunette's beauty was natural and not paid for. “In fact, she makes me look like Secondhand Rose.”
“Oh, yeah?” He seemed skeptical, which left her a little unbalanced. But not because she feared he would be disappointed when he saw Carly face-to-face.
Still, Lynette nodded, grateful that Grant got the hint and that the butterflies had begun to subside.
“Okay,” he said. “I'll get my hair cut on Monday. And we'll take it from thereâthat is, if Carly's interested.”
Lynette felt as though she'd scored one for the home team. “I'm sure she will be.”
How could she not? Grant was a hunkâand financially secure to boot.
Pleased that she'd pulled off what she'd planned, she tossed Grant one of her biggest, brightest smiles, one that showed off the pretty veneers Hank had purchased during their engagement.
“I'll meet you at Shear Magic on Tuesday at twelve thirty,” Grant said.
“Great.”
But for some reason, his agreement only stirred up those butterflies all over again.
Chapter 11
On Monday morning, during a lull between clients, Carly used her free time to snack on a granola bar she'd brought from home and to ponder an upcoming problem.
The kids would be getting out of school for Christmas vacation at the end of the week, and she wasn't sure what she'd do with them while she worked. Sharon had watched them last year as a favor, which had been a real blessing, but that was no longer an option.
Hiring a sitter was out of the question, of course, but she might be able to find another mother who was willing to work out a trade, such as two weeks of childcare for free haircuts and salon services.
Too bad she couldn't think of another mom who didn't work outside the home.
So it looked like Josh would have to watch Mikey during the school break, although she hated to have to rely on him. He was feeling put upon by all that she asked of him lately, and while she didn't think she was wrong to do so, she hated to see him grow any more resentful than he already was.
Maybe Max Tolliver would have some suggestions for her when they had lunch today. She certainly hoped so.
As she popped the last of the granola bar into her mouth, she glanced at the clock on the break room wall: 12:26.
Lynette's friend would be coming in for a haircut soon. After that, Carly would meet Max at the bistro down the street. It was a nice place and not terribly expensive, although she rarely ate there anymore.
Since Max had been the one to invite her to lunch, she assumed he would pick up the tab. Still, just to be on the safe side, she would only order a cup of soupâsomething that she could afford if they ended up going Dutch treat.
She wasn't sure what had possessed her to agree to meet with Max, though. Her past contacts with him gave her no reason to believe he was good with kids or that he was the least bit understandingâor paternal. But he'd shown a softer side lately, so who knew what he'd have to say?
Of course, he would be asking for her opinion about something, too. She was curious about the problem he had that warranted some advice from a female perspective.
He'd said that he was divorced and implied that he wasn't having any romantic troubles. Maybe he had an issue with a neighbor. Carly could see how someone who was short-tempered and cranky, as Max seemed to be, might set someone else off. She'd certainly been annoyed at both his tone and his attitude during their initial conversations.
She had, of course, seen him in a different light lately. Not that she liked him a whole lot better, but she no longer saw him as an ogre.
He also had nice eyesâwhen they revealed a little compassion, tolerance, and sympathy.
“Hey,” a woman called from the doorway. “There you are.”
Carly looked up to see Lynette peering into the break room and smiled. “Did you bring your friend?”
“No, I thought I'd meet him here and hang out while you cut his hair.”
“Cool.” Carly brushed her fingers across her lips, feeling for crumbs and not finding any.
“Why don't you put on a little lipstick before you meet him,” Lynette said.
A little taken aback by the suggestion, Carly glanced in the mirror that hung near the door. Her hair and everything else appeared to be in placeâeven a remaining tinge of the Pink Grapefruit gloss she'd applied earlier this morning.
“I'm sorry,” Lynette said. “I didn't mean to imply there was anything wrong. You look greatâas usual. It's just that Grant is a bachelor. He's also single, wealthy, and looking for a nice woman.”
Uh-oh. So this wasn't just another hair appointment. Before Carly had gotten married, people were always trying to set her up with guys, not that she'd needed much help.
“What is this?” Carly asked. “A setup?”
“Only if you want it to be.”
“I'm not looking for a boyfriend.”
Lynette smiled. “Sometimes the best romances spark when people aren't looking.”
“You might be right, and Grant might be a nice guy, but I have very little to offer anyone right now, other than a couple of kids and more bills than I can afford to pay.”
“I think you'd be surprised.”
About that time, Trevor, who was handling the front desk while Twyla was at lunch, poked his head in the door. “Carly, your twelve-thirty is here.”
“Oh, good,” Lynette said. “Come on, I'll introduce you.”
Carly took one last look in the mirror, but not to check her appearance. She was actually looking for a sympathetic face, someone who would agree that the last thing in the world she needed right now was romance.
Sure enough, the woman gazing back at her was rolling her eyes at the idea, too.
Nevertheless, Carly headed to the front of the salon, where she would meet her would-be suitor, her heels clicking across the tile floor with skepticism and irritation.
What made some people think that a single woman couldn't be happy without a man?
Not that Carly was actually happy these days, but her mood could easily be lifted by finding a winning lottery ticket, receiving an unexpected inheritance, or being able to schedule a series of free family counseling sessions.
As Carly followed Lynette to the front of the shop, she noticed the blonde had an optimistic spring in her step, which was more than a little annoying. She wished she could feign a headache, ask one of the other stylists to cut Grant's hair, and go home sick.
If the guy was all that special, why didn't Lynette want him?
Upon nearing the reception desk, Carly spotted a man who was about the right ageâin his early forties. He wasn't tall, maybe an inch or two under six feet, but with that surfer-boy hair and a striking smile, he was definitely a sight to behold.
He was dressed casually in black jeans and a white-cotton shirt, open at the collar, rolled at the cuffs.
When Lynette welcomed the man with a hug, there was little doubt as to who he was.
He was also just another client, Carly told herself, as she reached out and introduced herself.
His hand gripped hers, enveloping her in warmth and strengthâand making her wonder if having a male companion might not be a bad idea after all.
She drew her fingers from his, then said, “Please, have a seat.”
When he sat in her chair and caught her gaze in the mirror, she nearly lost her professional edge, but she got it back again.
“How much would you like taken off?” she asked.
Grant glanced at Lynette and grinned, then he returned his focus to the mirrorâand to Carly. “I'm afraid you'll have to ask my friend. She's the one who seems to think I need a haircut.”
“And you don't?” Carly wondered if Lynette had coerced the guy into making the appointment. It sure seemed that way.
“Actually,” Grant said, “I don't mind the length, but it could stand a trim.”
“Then that's what we'll do.” She took him to the shampoo bowl, reclined the back of the seat, then proceeded to wet and lather his hair.
“I didn't expect this,” he said. “If your haircuts are as good as your head massages, you've got yourself another regular customer.”
Carly smiled as she rinsed off the suds. “Thanks. I try to take good care of my clients.”
Twenty minutes later, Grant's hair was cut, styled, and blow-dried.
“There you go,” Carly said, as she handed him a mirror, then swung his chair around so he could get a glimpse of the backside of his head. “What do you think?”
“It looks great.” He offered her a heart-stroking smile, then turned to Lynette, who was grinning in agreement.
“Then you're good to go.” Carly, glad to know she'd pleased them both, stepped back.
“Have you eaten yet?” Lynette asked. “If you can take a break, I thought it might be nice to walk to the bistro down the street. It would be my treat.”
“I'm sorry.” Carly glanced at the small clock in her station. “I already have plans for lunch.”
“Okay. Maybe next time.” Lynette smiled.
As Grant got to his feet, Lynette scrunched her nose and nodded in Carly's direction. Apparently catching the gist of Lynette's nonverbal communication, Grant turned to Carly and smiled. “Can I ask you something?”
She hoped he was going to suggest that she take a little more off the sides or the back, but she had a feeling he was going to ask something else. Surely, he wouldn't ask her out.
“Go ahead.” She offered up a smile and hoped her skittish nerves didn't reveal themselves in her voice or her expression.
“Would you like to have dinner with me on Saturday night?”
She should have expected a question like that, since Lynette had clearly been matchmaking, but it still took her a little by surprise.
Carly hadn't had a date in yearsâcertainly not since she'd gotten married.
Grant seemed nice enough, though, and he was certainly attractive. Yet even if she wanted to go out with him, she had no one she could ask to stay with the boys. Besides, she was away from them too often as it was. “I . . . uh, I'd like to, Grant, but I have two kids, and I may not be able to find a sitter.”
“If you can't,” Lynette said, “I like kids. And I'm not doing anything on Saturday night. I'll watch them for you.”
Was Lynette that intent upon setting up her hairstylist and her friend? Carly wasn't sure if she should be happy about that or not, but the offer did strike another possibility she hadn't considered.
Was there a chance Lynette might want to help out with child care over Christmas vacation?
For a moment, Carly completely forgot that there was still a question hanging in the air like a wind-damaged kite. That is, until she looked at Grant.
Expressive eyes, the color of a summer sky, and a playful smile, made it difficult to turn him down, even though that's what she needed to do.
Still, before she could offer an excuseâand she had a full list of them she could rattle offâshe found herself saying, “All right, if Lynette is serious about babysitting, I'll go out with you on Saturday night.”
Yet once the words had rolled off her tongue, she wondered how she was going to take them back.
Max couldn't find a place to park in front of the bistro, and by the time he found one a few spaces away from the entrance to Shear Magic, he was more than five minutes late. But that couldn't be helped.
As he'd gotten ready to leave the house, he'd glanced out in the backyard and noticed that Hemingway was gone again. If the dog had been looking for the kids, as Maggie had suggested he was doing when he escaped, the laugh was on both of them. School was in session, and there weren't any potential playmates roaming the neighborhood.
Still, Max had gone through the motions, calling the dog's name and checking the gateâwhich had been closed.
On a whim, and wondering how Hemingway had gotten out this time, he'd searched the yard carefully, looking for holes under the fence that he could have missed.
While looking behind a bush that needed pruning in the worst way, he found Hemingway snoozing.
“Hey,” Max had said, “what are you doing under there?”
The mutt looked up, but didn't raise his head very far from the front paws on which he'd been resting his chin.
“I'm taking off for a while. See if you can stay out of trouble, okay?”
Hemingway didn't appear to be going anywhere, so Max had returned to the house and grabbed his car keys. Then he'd driven to the salon.
He'd no more than approached the front door of the shop, where bright red letters announced
WALK-INS
WELCOME
, when his neighbor, Grant Barrows, walked out.
WALK-INS
WELCOME
, when his neighbor, Grant Barrows, walked out.
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