His gaze grew watchful, and he studied her with an inscrutable expression. “Please do.”
“You’re a great guy, but—”
“Not for you.”
Wasn’t that obvious? Charlotte thought. But then she remembered last night and their easy familiarity, not just in bed, but out of it.
It had been like that at first with Jake. Until they’d gotten to know each other better, and Charlotte had realized he saw her more as property than as a partner. By that point, they’d been married. And she’d realized what had seemed like a whirlwind romance was really a colossal mistake.
“It’s not just that. Last night was great. A happy break from the stress of our daily lives. You’re building a business. So am I. I have little time for anything else. I assumed we were both on the same page about what last night was.”
Regret surged over the misunderstanding. Charlotte had believed he understood she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.
Adam studied her for a long moment, as if trying to figure out if she was simply playing hard to get, or if she was serious.
“Good luck with your new business.” He surprised her by lightly brushing her mouth with his. “I know your salon will be a huge hit.”
Before she had a chance to say anything—and, really, what more was there to say?—he turned on his heel and strode back in the direction of the Pure Organic booth.
As she watched him go, she sighed. This was the right course of action. She assured herself the twinge of regret she was experiencing was normal.
Though she’d enjoyed her time with him, she didn’t want, nor need, a man in her life permanently. She had the ability to earn her own way and be successful. Being single meant she could spend the money she earned as she saw fit.
If she wanted to take a trip, she’d take a trip. If she wanted to use it all to try to get pregnant, that’s what she’d do. And, once she had that child, she wouldn’t have anyone telling her how to raise her daughter or son.
Too many of her friends in California had ex-husbands or ex-boyfriends with loads of opinions on how to raise children, while they left the women to do all the actual work. That’s what made in vitro so perfect.
Being a single mother might not be for everyone.
For her, it would be a perfect fit.
Monday morning, Charlotte glanced around Marigold’s, the salon on Good Hope’s Main Street. Her business partner had told her when they were combining their businesses that she would really miss the cozy salon she’d opened when she first moved back to Door County. Charlotte could understand why.
Though small, the salon was warm and welcoming, yet stylish. Beneath her feet, the dark hardwood gleamed. The tin ceiling above appeared original to the building.
The ceiling gave the room a vintage vibe, as did the exposed-brick wall. On the dark gray surface of the opposing wall, someone had painted several oversized flowers. Charlotte wondered if this was more of Izzie Deshler’s work.
The jewel in the room’s crown was the chandelier, a vintage Capodimonte porcelain from Italy. The ceramic flowers were hand-painted. Marigold had already informed her that the chandelier was coming to the new salon.
Charlotte smiled, recalling Marigold’s vehemence on the point. She loved her new partner’s energy and missed seeing her in the salon. For the past two days, Charlotte had been here alone.
Marigold was taking a month of well-deserved time off to spend with her husband and new baby. Since the business she and Charlotte were opening together was still under construction, Charlotte didn’t mind taking over Marigold’s appointments at her salon.
She loved seeing clients and much preferred dealing with hair over paperwork. Unfortunately, when a two-hour block of time opened that afternoon due to a late cancellation, inventory had moved to the top of her to-do list.
Picking up a mug filled with freshly brewed coffee, Charlotte took a step toward the back.
The jingle of the bells over the door had her inwardly cheering. She set down her mug with a smile. She loved walk-ins. Especially now. Not only might she pick up a new client, but it meant inventory would have to wait.
“Welcome to Marigold’s.” She turned, and the sight of the looming man had a smile blossoming on her lips. “Adam.”
Charlotte couldn’t stop the warm rush of pleasure coursing through her veins. He’d been on her mind and now, here he was.
He stepped farther into the shop, and everything closed in around them. All that existed was her and him.
She cleared her throat. “If you’re looking for Marigold, she’s not here. She’s taking time off to be with the baby. I’m running solo here until the new salon opens.”
Realizing with sudden horror that she was rambling, Charlotte clamped her mouth shut.
For several heartbeats, he said nothing, just studied her with that easy smile. “Can you cut hair?”
Charlotte stiffened before realizing he was teasing.
“I’m a quick learner.” She batted her eyelashes. “Can I practice on you?”
Adam laughed, and the warmth of the sound touched something inside her. “Sure. Give it your best shot. It can’t be worse than Stan’s efforts.”
This time, the shock was real. “You let Stan cut your hair?”
“Once.” Adam shook his head. “My dad is one of those guys who’s convinced he can do anything. One time was all it took with the hair.”
Charlotte gestured to the chair, and once he was seated, she took an assessing look. Dark and glossy with a hint of wave. The ends brushed his collar, and a cowlick at the back had strands going in two different directions.
Running her fingers through the strands, she delighted in the silky texture, just as she had two nights ago. “You don’t use product.”
He cocked his head, his expression quizzical.
“You know,” she gestured with a hand, “gel, wax, mousse. Styling products.”
He chuckled. “Nope.”
She met his gaze in the mirror. “I prefer to cut it dry.”
“Works for me.” He shrugged. “The stylist at the salon in Egg Harbor usually washes it, but it’s clean.”
“What made you come here?”
“They’re closed this week. Some kind of issue with the sewer. Stan told me this morning I was looking like a sheepdog. I didn’t want to wait to get it cut.”
“Well, we appreciate your business.” She kept her eyes on his hair as she spoke. “Just so you know, the reason I prefer to cut it dry is because your hair has a pronounced wave. Wet hair has more elasticity than dry hair. Having it dry allows me to cut a shape that takes into account your wave and cowlick.”
He spread his hands. “Whatever you think best.”
Charlotte eyed those broad hands. She remembered how strong, yet gentle they’d been Saturday night as he’d stroked, caressed and aroused feelings that had lain dormant for years. He’d made her feel special, like someone precious.
She took a deep breath, then refocused on his hair. “If you’re feeling adventurous, I have something different I think you’d like.”
His eyes met hers in the mirror. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
As he seemed open to the idea of a change, she continued. “What’s popular right now is short on the sides and longer on top.”