He would have to be very, very stupid to ever think Kennedy Ashe would want him for forever. She was too beautiful. Too perfect. And that, he knew, was a deadly combination.
It took a long time for sleep to come.
“NO. WAY.”
Kennedy shared a glance with the stylist. The man arched a brow and pursed his lips in disapproval. Benny had a very large ego, well earned, and the idea that Nate didn’t want to follow his instructions insulted him in all ways. Tall and lean, his dark hair was impeccably styled and touched with red to add depth, and a diamond winked in his left ear. He always wore black and manicured his nails; his nose was long with a slight hook that made turning it up at anyone who didn’t suit him all the more easy. Like right now. She rested her hands on Nate’s shoulders, covered by the plastic cape, and met his gaze in the mirror. “What’s the real problem?”
“Are you kidding? You want to highlight my hair? Wax my face? Let me repeat myself. No. Way. I’m going home.”
Benny threw up his hands. He spoke with a fake British accent, though Kennedy knew he was straight from the Bronx. “I cannot work under such conditions. I am an artist. I take your clients as a favor to you, but I will not be insulted.”
“Listen, buddy, I read Glamour, and it specifically states that highlights need to be kept up every two weeks. I’m sure as hell not going to a salon on a regular basis, so you better rethink the plan.”
Benny huffed. Then spoke with grudging approval. “He is right. I refuse to give highlights to someone who will not maintain.”
Nate sat up taller and made a move to rise from his chair. “That’s right. Now who’s the expert? I’m outta here.”
Benny curled his lip in disdain.
“Nate, please listen.” Kennedy placed a light restraining hand on his arm, which immediately grabbed all of Nate’s focus. “Benny is going to polish up your appearance to increase your natural confidence. You’re not getting a fair shot with a lot of good women because you haven’t taken the time to make a good first impression. I promise you it’s not that dramatic a change.”
“You want to cut off all my hair.”
“Consider it shedding season and let’s be done with this,” the stylist sneered.
“Benny!”
Benny picked at a cuticle, already done with the whole episode. Nate glared and crossed his arms against his chest. Kennedy sighed internally. Ah, crap. Dealing with a man’s appearance was always delicate, but especially one with so much work to do. Her fingers itched to uncover what she knew he was hiding: a certain geeky hotness that would intrigue women and find him love.
The unibrow rose. “How come this is all a one-way street? Why don’t you trust me to tell you I’m fine the way I am? I refuse to be some blond-ass Twinkie.”
She bit down on her lower lip to keep from laughing. Benny rolled his eyes. “As if,” he muttered under his breath.
Nate jerked his head. “I heard that.”
“Okay, listen, if you do this for me, I’ll do something for you.”
Benny looked interested. “I had no idea, darling.”
Kennedy rolled her eyes. “Relax, Benny—I’m not sleeping with him. But Nate, you can choose something that will stretch my boundaries. Even though you’re a client, I usually don’t ask them to do anything I wouldn’t be willing to complete myself. Name it.”
He feigned disinterest. “You’re already beautiful.”
A shot of female vanity and pride hit her. “Thank you. Look, you won’t get this opportunity again. Pick something and I’ll do it. The offer disappears in a minute.”
“Let me teach you to golf.”
She winced. Oh, this was bad. Being dragged out on an endless lawn to smack a ball and walk eight miles to do it again was so not on her bucket list. And the outfits they wore were plain scary. Those awful collared shirts and plaid pants above the ankle. She once saw a golfer on TV wearing bright orange shorts without even a hint of irony. Nightmare. Not to mention the droning on and on about handicaps and strokes. “How about we bank the favor for now? Think about it more in depth and come up with something you really want. Okay?” She used her best pout and lowered her lids. Only once had a man told her no when facing off against that particular expression. She knew her odds were good.
His face turned stubborn. “No. Golf. And not just once. I need a few sessions in order to teach you properly.”
She shuddered. Analyzed the options for a way out. Found none. She could threaten him, but he’d still refuse and, without changing his appearance, she’d be too behind the eight ball. Or golf ball. “Fine. You win. But no more bitching and giving Benny a headache. You follow our instructions. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“Benny?”
The stylist ran his fingers through Nate’s shaggy locks, a look of disgust on his face. “Deal. This is too horrific not to help with.”
“Thanks.”
She scrolled through her text messages and waited while Benny prepped a moisturizing treatment and began his magic. Kennedy sipped coffee, answered emails, and tried to ignore her client’s grunts and groans of horror as the solution was rubbed into his scalp. Roughly. A razor edge was brought out from the drawer and a hot washcloth placed on his face. Suddenly, Benny gave a shout.
“My God, I am brilliant. This man needs scruff.”
Kennedy walked over. Nate’s voice was muffled under the cloth. “What?”
“Do you think he can pull it off?” she asked.
Benny tapped a finger over his chin and debated. “It’s a gamble. If I do this correctly, he can become my greatest creation.”
“I’m a fucking Frankenstein now? Get me out of here.”
“Shush,” Benny said.
“What the hell? I shave every day and now this is a problem?”
“Shush,” Kennedy said. “Let him think.”
Benny finally nodded. “We shall do it. But it must be delicate. I will set up the pattern but he must promise to follow it exactly. The hair growing in needs to be the right shape so he doesn’t end up looking like a drug dealer gone bad.”
Nate whipped off the cloth. “Drug dealer? No stubble, I’m an aerospace engineer.”
Benny cocked his head. “Hmm, I’m making over a rocket scientist, huh? Not bad.”
“Aerospace engineer.”
“Shush,” Kennedy and Benny said in unison.
Benny wielded the blade in warning. Nate settled back into his chair. Kennedy went back to work, content to let Benny work his magic.
“What are you putting on my eyes?” Kennedy pressed her lips together. Benny didn’t answer, just applied the hot wax to the nightmare unibrow. “That’s hot and sticky. What’s going on?”
“Stop whining.”
Kennedy swallowed a giggle and spoke up. “Benny needs to clean up your brows.”
“They’re eyebrows, for God’s sakes. What can you do to them?”
Benny pressed the fabric down. And ripped it off.
“Shit!”
“Stop being a baby. Women handle hard-core pain on a daily basis. Now hold still, I’m not finished.”
“You ripped my hair off my face. I’m a guy.”
“A hairy guy. You will need to wax regularly.”
“Fuck you.”
Kennedy held back a gasp. Interesting. Nate rarely cursed. Extreme pain pushed his societal limits. She wondered what else did, but then quickly shut down the thought.
An hour later, Ben revealed the finished cut, keeping Nate turned around so he wasn’t able to peek at his reflection. An odd shiver coursed down her spine as she stared at the new and improved Nate Dunkle.