reader.”
Rachel ran her hand through her hair. It felt greasy and smelled of seaweed. The long tresseswere a thick mass. It needed washing but she dreaded the task. It would take hours for her hair to fully dry. Untangling the knots would take time.
“Can’t say when I’ve ever seen so much hair on a woman’s head.” He went to the stove and poured himself a mug of coffee.
Rachel started to work the comb through her hair. The comb snagged in her tangles, painfully tugging her scalp. “I’ve never cut it.”
He stared at her over the rim of his cup. “Never?”
Rachel cursed the tangles. “I’ve wanted to a hundred times, believe me.” Until now she didn’t mind that her hair was long. “There’s always been a maid to brush and braid it.”
“I’ve scissors if you want to shear some of that off.”
The comb caught in another knot. “I couldn’t cut it.”
“Why not?”
“There are a thousand reasons.”
“Name one.”
Peter wouldn’t like it. She stopped, furious with herself. Peter didn’t matter anymore. He was the past.
So why couldn’t she cut it? “I suppose there’s no reason not to take a little off.” Still, the idea of cutting her hair had her heart pounding.
“I’ll get the scissors.” He took a sip of coffee, set the mug down and ambled into the other room. Less than a minute later he returned with the scissors. He handed them to her. “Cut away.”
He looked so casual, as if this weren’t a big deal.
She stared down at the blades. They felt heavy in her hands. Of course, this wasn’t a big deal, especially after what they’d witnessed on the beach today. Hair, after all, would grow back.
Grabbing a clump of hair just below her shoulder, she raised the scissors to the tangles.
She hesitated. Suddenly she was afraid. There were so many changes in her life. She was literally cutting away the person she’d been. She lowered the scissors from her hair.
“What’s keeping you?” Ben said.
Tears sprang to her eyes. “I don’t know. I’m being silly. In truth I’ve wanted to cut my hair for years.”
“You want me to do it?”
“You cut a woman’s hair?”
“We’re only talking about cutting a straight line, right?”
“Yes.”
“It shouldn’t be that difficult.”
“I don’t know.” Good Lord, what would she look like after Ben finished with her?
He held out his hand. “You want it done or not?”
“Yes. Yes, I want my hair cut.” She laid the scissors in his hand.
When he took them, his fingers brushed hers and fire shot through her limbs.
He moved behind her chair. She could feel the heat of his body. Nervous energy shot through her body. “Now, don’t take too much off.”
“You’ve got enough here to make a rug. You could stand to lose a foot or two,” he teased.
Suddenly she had a vision of him cutting it at her ears. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“Afraid, Rachel?”
She hesitated. “No.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Go ahead.”
He grabbed a handful of hair and in one swift move, cut the golden strands. He handed her the hair. “No so bad was it?”
For a moment she sat in shocked horror staring at the large clump of hair in her hand. “You cut it!”
“That’s what you wanted.”
She took the hair and looked at it. It had been with her for so long. “Yes, but I didn’t think you’d do it so fast. I thought you’d give me a little more time to think about it.”
He lifted a brow. “It’s best to get the harder things over and done with quickly.”
Her hair now dangled just below her shoulders. Her head felt light. “How does it look?”
“Crooked.”
“How crooked?”
“Nothing I can’t trim up.” He spread a towel over her shoulders and spent the next fifteen minutes snipping away at the ends of her hair. The extra time gave her the chance to calm her nerves and get accustomed to her shorter hairstyle.
As Ben trimmed, he cupped her chin and turned her head to inspect a cut.
Rachel ran her hand through her hair. It felt greasy and smelled of seaweed. The long tresseswere a thick mass. It needed washing but she dreaded the task. It would take hours for her hair to fully dry. Untangling the knots would take time.
“Can’t say when I’ve ever seen so much hair on a woman’s head.” He went to the stove and poured himself a mug of coffee.
Rachel started to work the comb through her hair. The comb snagged in her tangles, painfully tugging her scalp. “I’ve never cut it.”
He stared at her over the rim of his cup. “Never?”
Rachel cursed the tangles. “I’ve wanted to a hundred times, believe me.” Until now she didn’t mind that her hair was long. “There’s always been a maid to brush and braid it.”
“I’ve scissors if you want to shear some of that off.”
The comb caught in another knot. “I couldn’t cut it.”
“Why not?”
“There are a thousand reasons.”
“Name one.”
Peter wouldn’t like it. She stopped, furious with herself. Peter didn’t matter anymore. He was the past.
So why couldn’t she cut it? “I suppose there’s no reason not to take a little off.” Still, the idea of cutting her hair had her heart pounding.
“I’ll get the scissors.” He took a sip of coffee, set the mug down and ambled into the other room. Less than a minute later he returned with the scissors. He handed them to her. “Cut away.”
He looked so casual, as if this weren’t a big deal.
She stared down at the blades. They felt heavy in her hands. Of course, this wasn’t a big deal, especially after what they’d witnessed on the beach today. Hair, after all, would grow back.
Grabbing a clump of hair just below her shoulder, she raised the scissors to the tangles.
She hesitated. Suddenly she was afraid. There were so many changes in her life. She was literally cutting away the person she’d been. She lowered the scissors from her hair.
“What’s keeping you?” Ben said.
Tears sprang to her eyes. “I don’t know. I’m being silly. In truth I’ve wanted to cut my hair for years.”
“You want me to do it?”
“You cut a woman’s hair?”
“We’re only talking about cutting a straight line, right?”
“Yes.”
“It shouldn’t be that difficult.”
“I don’t know.” Good Lord, what would she look like after Ben finished with her?
He held out his hand. “You want it done or not?”
“Yes. Yes, I want my hair cut.” She laid the scissors in his hand.
When he took them, his fingers brushed hers and fire shot through her limbs.
He moved behind her chair. She could feel the heat of his body. Nervous energy shot through her body. “Now, don’t take too much off.”
“You’ve got enough here to make a rug. You could stand to lose a foot or two,” he teased.
Suddenly she had a vision of him cutting it at her ears. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“Afraid, Rachel?”
She hesitated. “No.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Go ahead.”
He grabbed a handful of hair and in one swift move, cut the golden strands. He handed her the hair. “No so bad was it?”
For a moment she sat in shocked horror staring at the large clump of hair in her hand. “You cut it!”
“That’s what you wanted.”
She took the hair and looked at it. It had been with her for so long. “Yes, but I didn’t think you’d do it so fast. I thought you’d give me a little more time to think about it.”
He lifted a brow. “It’s best to get the harder things over and done with quickly.”
Her hair now dangled just below her shoulders. Her head felt light. “How does it look?”
“Crooked.”
“How crooked?”
“Nothing I can’t trim up.” He spread a towel over her shoulders and spent the next fifteen minutes snipping away at the ends of her hair. The extra time gave her the chance to calm her nerves and get accustomed to her shorter hairstyle.
As Ben trimmed, he cupped her chin and turned her head to inspect a cut.
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