3. Naomi

"Naomi?"

A fresh wave of dread rolled over me when I heard Tyler say my name. Hot tears continued streaming down my face despite my frantic attempts to wipe them away.

"Go away, Tyler," I said, turning my face away from him.

Silence followed the order, at least until he sat down beside me on the stack of splintered pallets.

"Are you okay?" His voice was unusually soft and gentle, and exactly the kind of thing that would make me cry harder if I let him get to me.

"Five by five," I said coolly. Swiping at my cheeks. "Never been better."

He clucked his tongue. "Liar."

A fresh tingle of anger crawled up my spine, lighting little sparks along the back of my neck. "Go. Away." The last thing I needed was this man harassing me when my whole life was on the brink of ruin.

"And if I don"t?"

I cast him a sideways glare but pulled up short when I realized there was no teasing gleam in his eye. In fact, unless I was seeing things, he looked almost apologetic.

Somehow, that just made it worse.

"You know what?" I let out a heavy sigh. I was angry at the world, but I was too tired to bicker with him. "Forget it. Lurk out here as long as you want." Then I got up, straightened my shirt, and went back inside the salon without looking back.

I might have slammed the door a little too loud and flipped the deadbolt with more oomph than was strictly necessary. And yes, technically, the back exit was supposed to be unlocked anytime Harlowe's was open, but at that moment, I didn't care.

If he really wanted to talk, he could walk around the building and come through the front door like everyone else. Or drop by my house after I closed the shop for the day. Which he'd already made abundantly clear he would never do.

Sparrow poked his head out from the breakroom and gave me a quizzical look.

"I'll bet you a new dog toy he doesn"t do either," I said aloud.

His furry black ears twitched, then he gave his big head a shake and disappeared back into the room.

"Yeah, I wouldn't take that bet either," I muttered.

It used to be a rare occasion that I'd bring my six-year-old German Shepherd to work with me, but after his recent health issues, I hated leaving him home. So, now he got to lounge on his big, fluffy bed in the breakroom where we all spoiled him rotten throughout the day.

A week later, I was looking over the real estate options I had for moving my salon, again, for what felt like the millionth time. The only workable options were all in the heart of downtown Stonemore, where I would pay an arm and a leg in rent.

I might be able to swing the move if everything in the universe lined up perfectly, but foolish hopes and wishes weren't the kinds of things you bet your life savings on. Especially when those savings took a six-thousand-dollar hit earlier in the year.

I didn't even know dogs could get diabetes before I had to rush Sparrow to the emergency vet on a Sunday. He'd barely pulled through a horrible bout of ketoacidosis—which, yeah, I totally blamed myself for not realizing there was something wrong earlier—but he made it thanks to his own stubbornness and the amazing team at the vet office. Four endless days later, I finally got to bring him back home.

Then came the learning curve of checking his blood sugar and giving him an insulin shot twice a day. It took a couple of months to build a solid routine, but Sparrow was such a champ about it all. The only problem was between the initial financial hit, the new meds, and the weekly check ups that followed, months passed before I could start putting anything back in the bank.

"What about this one?" Ellie asked, pointing to a listing for a space that was double the size of our current salon. "Look at all the natural light."

It was a gorgeous space, but the rent was three times my budget. I scrolled past it. "Sure, if I never want to eat again." That would be about what it would take for me to be able to maintain a place like that. Oh, and the fact that Sparrow and I would have to live there because I would have to sell my house to afford that payment.

Not happening. Sparrow had already been through enough in his short life. From an abusive home, to six months going crazy in the shelter, then the diabetes diagnosis a couple years later. If any dog in the world deserved a quiet backyard with grass and trees, it was him. Even if all he did most days was nap in the shade.

"We still don"t know for sure that they"re kicking us out, right?" Kate asked.

I looked up from the listings on my phone and studied her for a minute. None of us wanted to move. Harlowe's might not be in the nicest part of town, but we knew the neighborhood. We all felt safe coming to work and leaving late, and all of our clients knew just where to find us.

"Nothing official, yet," I said. "But I"m sure it"s coming." If for no other reason than the fact that Tyler had been suspiciously present this past week.

Usually, I had the misfortune of running into him about once or twice a month. In the last seven days, I"d seen him every single day. Even on Sunday, when the salon and bar were closed, I managed to run into him at the grocery store of all places.

Tonight was no different. I didn't have to cast a glance toward the doors of The Fox Den because the minute I stepped out my own door, I could feel his stormy blue eyes on me.

He was usually alone, leaning against the brick wall like he didn't have a care in the world. And the first night, the jerk even had the nerve to give me a little wave.

I flipped him off in return.

After that, all I got was a subtle nod.

The two nights when he wasn"t alone, he was talking with one of his brothers. Both times, he acknowledged my presence with that nod, but whatever conversation they"d been having ground to a halt. Abrupt silence was a great way to give a girl a complex.

Which was probably at least part of the reason I couldn"t keep my mouth shut.

"Are you kicking us out or not?" I asked, not even trying to hide the venom slithering through my veins.

The future of my business depended on having somewhere my clients could go and somewhere for my employees to work. A reliable, workable location.

Tyler's left eyebrow ticked up. "So, you"re talking to me now?" His voice was like warm chocolate, smooth and silky, and the worst kind of sinful.

"I"m asking you a question. You know, so I can get an idea of what"s in store for the future of my business."

And my life.

His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip before he rolled that lip between perfectly straight teeth. Those dark blue eyes narrowed, just barely, as he leveled me with a look that I might have mistaken for hunger if I"d seen it on another man.

Coming from him, I knew better.

We"d had our five minutes, and everyone in The Heights knew once Tyler Fox moved on from a conquest, he never looked back. Which wasn't to say he left an ocean of spurned women in his wake. That wouldn't be good for business in a small town. He usually managed to stay friendly with the women he bedded.

How did I know? A few of my clients had taken that ride, and they were all too happy to spill the tea when they were in my chair getting their roots touched up and their ends trimmed.

I had no doubt a night with him would be hot.

Scorching.

Our little make-out session was already seared into my memory. Even now, months later, it still inspired dreams that had me waking up drenched in sweat with an insatiable need for something my best vibrator could never quite satisfy.

Embarrassment burned in the middle of my chest thinking about it, a heat that inevitably worked its way up my neck and cheeks until even the very tips of my ears were red hot.

I knew better than to get mixed up with Tyler. The man wasn"t shy about letting people know he was one-night stand material, and we'd known each other forever. We"d gone to the same schools, worked next door to each other for years, and we'd spent more nights than I could count in that dark bar pushing each other"s buttons.

So why the hell had I gone for it?

When he dismissed me like he did all his other meaningless conquests, it hurt in a way I'd never expected.

I glared back at him and wished like hell I could go back in time and erase that night. "Nothing to say?" I bit out.

"Nothing you want to hear," he said, his voice dipping low.

I stared at him as my brain slowly processed those five words. "Fuck." He really was kicking me out.

Tyler jammed his hands in his front pockets, topping off his annoying bad boy lean. His soft, white t-shirt hung perfectly from his muscled frame, highlighting the ridges and planes hidden beneath with just enough detail to make my traitorous mouth water.

And don"t even get me started on his jeans. Low-slung. Well-worn.

Put it all together, and that man was my kryptonite.

He was also, officially, my enemy.

"It's fine. I have my eye on a new place across town anyway. I've got two months left on my lease here, then I'll be out of your hair, and you'll never have to see me again." That wasn't entirely true, since Stonemore Heights was small enough that everyone ran into everyone eventually. It was the sentiment that mattered.

I spun on my heel and headed for my car.

"Naomi, wait." A big hand wrapped around my upper arm, sending a ripple of hot tension through me.

I whipped around, yanking out of his grip. "Hands off, Tyler."

He flinched like I'd slapped him, but I didn't care. He had no right to touch me after the way he'd treated me. After that night. After the nightmare he and his brothers were creating for me.

I shook out my hand to quell the tingles his touch had sent rocketing down to my fingertips. "What do you want from me? You're getting your precious bar expansion. What else is there to say?"

His eyes narrowed. Those broad shoulders of his grew as he pulled himself up to his full height and stepped right into my space. If he thought that was enough to make me cower, he was out of his fucking mind.

"I'll have West deliver the official notice tomorrow," he growled.

"Good."

"Great."

Goddamn him. We were inches away from each other, close enough that I had to crane my head back to look at him. The heat rolling off him bled through my clothes and soaked into my skin.

The worst part was, even though I was pissed and desperately wanted to hate him, some weak, stupidly romantic part of me wanted to lean into that heat.

I took a step back and opened my mouth to say something. Then I snapped it shut. What was the point? We'd never really been friends, and in two months, we wouldn't be neighbors anymore either.

"Is that all?" I asked.

Tyler's brow twitched, but he still didn't say a word.

Fine. Whatever.

After the week I'd had, I was too tired to do anything other than curl up on the couch with Sparrow and watch the entire run of Scream movies until we both fell asleep.

I rolled my eyes, shook my head, and walked away.