Four

Harlow

When I’d gotten myself ready for the date at the bar last weekend, I had some expectations—or maybe it was hopes—about where things would lead. I thought Rob and I might hit things off, decide to have another date, and choose to grab a cup of coffee somewhere in the days that followed.

Not only had I not anticipated Rob being a complete jerk, but I never imagined I’d meet someone as wonderful as Blaze that same evening.

So, it was no surprise that what was happening now was something I hadn’t exactly prepared myself for. I was standing in my bedroom, giving myself a once-over, and marveling at the fact I’d just gotten myself dressed to impress, because Blaze was taking me to The Ridge, the town’s fanciest restaurant.

From the moment I finally reached out to Blaze on Wednesday, and we agreed to go out on a date this weekend, I could barely contain my excitement. I couldn’t wait to have this night out with him, and I was merely grateful for the full schedule at my salon this week. It helped to make it feel as though the remainder of the week was passing by quickly, getting me closer and closer to the day I’d finally be able to see him again.

I still had some nerves about where this would lead us in the long term, but for tonight, I couldn’t say I was anything less than eager for a wonderful night, especially because I continuously recalled the evening we’d had out last weekend.

It was difficult not to remember the way he made me feel when we were at the diner, and he even managed to make our phone conversation mid-week feel special. I could only assume that a night like tonight—one that was planned and had clear intentions—would be even more spectacular than everything else we’d had to this point.

Blaze proved I was right to be optimistic, because it seemed that no sooner had I descended the stairs and confirmed I had everything I needed in my purse, the doorbell rang.

He was on time.

No, that’s not right.

Blaze was early by three whole minutes.

Maybe that shouldn’t have been something to find appealing, but my horrible date with Rob had left a lot to be desired and really set the bar low.

I wasn’t quite sure what I expected would happen when I opened the door to him, but I certainly hadn’t expected what I got.

Blaze didn’t say a single word before he allowed his eyes to drift away from my face and down over my body. Judging by the way he was clenching his jaw, he liked what he saw.

Strangely, despite having had the experience I did last weekend with a guy I’d just met, telling me we needed to hop into bed with one another that night if I wanted something more with him, the appreciative look in Blaze’s eyes was nowhere near being on the same level of creepiness. In fact, I didn’t find it creepy at all.

If anything, the heated look in Blaze’s stare felt the way I believed it should have felt for a first official date. Two people getting together to have dinner together because there was a mutual attraction. It was his actions that would prove he was interested in more than just the physical connection.

Blaze’s eyes slowly traveled back up my body to my face, and when he met my attention, he smiled and said, “You look stunning.”

I returned the smile, feeling warm all over from his attention. “Thank you. You look nice as well.”

He dipped his chin in acknowledgment and asked, “Are you all set to go, or did you need a few minutes?”

Shaking my head, I declared, “I’m ready to go.”

Once I stepped outside and locked my door, Blaze surprised me by taking my hand in his to lead me toward his truck. The walk there remained silent, but it was during that trip to his vehicle that I noticed how much I liked the way my hand fit perfectly nestled inside his. It might have been such a simple gesture, but as a woman who hadn’t had the opportunity to experience this before, it felt like a big deal.

The excitement I’d been feeling before he even arrived at my place ticked up a few notches after we were in his truck and on our way to dinner. It had been so long since I’d been on a real date—one where the guy hadn’t managed to even take my hand in his—and I didn’t want my nerves getting the best of me, so I decided to be honest.

“I have to tell you, I’m unbelievably nervous right now,” I shared as Blaze drove.

He glanced over briefly, sending a warm expression my way, and when he returned his focus to the road, he reached across the center console and placed his hand on my forearm. He offered a gentle squeeze and asked, “What are you nervous about?”

His touch provided me with a reassurance I hadn’t expected it could, which helped to encourage me to continue to be honest. “As you already know, it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date. I just don’t want to do anything that’s going to make me seem like I’m weird.”

Blaze’s thumb stroked along the skin on my arm. “I think we all have a little bit of weird in us, Harlow. There’s nothing for you to be worried about.”

“Do you promise you won’t laugh at me if I say or do something stupid?” I pressed.

The truck came to a stop at a light. Blaze looked over at me and said, “I would only ever laugh with you, never at you.”

That was nice. “Okay.”

“Don’t get yourself worked up over nothing. We’re going to have a great time tonight,” he assured me.

Tipping my head to the side, I asked, “How do you know?”

He grinned. “Because we’re both already looking forward to our next date with each other tomorrow. We said we’d only do that if tonight went well.”

The light changed to green, and Blaze turned his attention back to the road. I placed my opposite hand on top of his and said, “Okay, I’m putting my faith in you.”

For the remainder of our drive, which wasn’t even a full ten minutes, Blaze and I simply settled into the silence. I didn’t necessarily mind it, using the time to attempt to quell the lingering nerves.

Before I knew it, we were seated at a private table at the restaurant and had given our orders to the waitress. With nothing else to distract us, I felt compelled to start the conversation.

“So, was the rest of your week anything like mine?” I asked.

“I guess that depends on what your week was like,” Blaze noted with a quirked eyebrow.

I shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know. I noticed my mind drifted a lot whenever I didn’t have a client in the chair.”

Curious, he asked, “And what were you thinking about?”

“You. Me. This date. The time we spent together last Friday at the diner.”

Blaze smiled at me, sitting back in his seat. “Then the answer is yes. The remainder of your week sounds a lot like mine. Fortunately, I had enough to keep me relatively occupied until tonight. Since I don’t normally head into the office on a Saturday unless there’s something terribly pressing, I would say today was the worst day for me.”

“Ah, well, see, that’s where I lucked out. Saturdays are generally my busiest days of the week,” I shared, feeling some relief that it seemed we were both in the same boat when it came to the encounter we’d already had and the excitement we felt for this date.

Much like I’d found had been the case when we were at the diner, Blaze and I quickly fell into conversation. It was easy for us, and I wondered if that’s just how it always was, or if this was something that only happened when two people were compatible.

“So, how long have you been cutting hair?” Blaze asked.

“I started cutting hair long before I was licensed to do so,” I began. “My best friend, my parents, and even my brothers recognized I had a knack for it, so they always let me cut their hair. Of course, I went through cosmetology school and got officially licensed before I started getting paid to do it.”

Blaze seemed to be impressed by that news. “Really? So, did you immediately open your own studio once you were licensed?”

I shook my head. “No. I started off at another salon, built my client base, and saved a ton of money. Within a few years, I had enough money set aside to be able to afford my own space, and my schedule was booked several weeks out on a consistent basis.”

“Wow, that’s incredible. It’s obvious you like what you’re doing, and the reality is that people are always going to be willing to pay for the service you provide.”

“I do love it, and the job security is nice,” I confirmed. “What about you? What made you want to become a private investigator?”

Something changed in Blaze’s expression, and the only way I could describe it without hearing a response was that it was clear he loved what he did for a living. “I’ve always been fascinated by puzzles. Even as a kid, I liked solving riddles and never wanted anyone to tell me the answer to a joke. When it came to my career, I knew I needed to do something that would challenge my mind in the way private investigation has.”

While I was the opposite of him when it came to solving puzzles, I could appreciate the way he felt about doing something he loved. “Do you ever find that it’s difficult to do? I don’t mean the actual solving of the case and putting together all your clues to get to that point. I’m referring to the outcome. Have you ever had a case you wish you hadn’t solved?”

Blaze tipped his chin up slightly as his eyes roamed over my face curiously. At that moment, I wondered if he was utilizing some of his professional skills to analyze me and figure something out. “I don’t know if I can say I’ve ever wished I had a case I hadn’t solved,” he started. “That doesn’t mean there haven’t been cases with awful outcomes. But I think it’s necessary, even in those situations, to get to the bottom of them. Oftentimes, solving those kinds of cases gives families closure. It’s horrible, but it’s necessary.”

I loved that. I loved that even though he had to contend with difficult things at times, he still felt the work he did was valuable and essential. “I think it’s wonderful that you can set aside your personal feelings when dealing with something that could be heavy just so that you can offer people peace. You should be proud of yourself, because I don’t think I could ever do that.”

He gave me a nod of approval in response. “Thank you for saying that. And don’t think what you do is any less important.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I’m not solving crimes or anything like that.”

“No. But you make people feel good about themselves by doing what you do,” he reasoned. “Think about it this way. If I’ve spent a lot of time working on a case that’s emotionally taxing, I think it’d do a lot for my mental state to be able to come into your salon and see you for a short time to get my haircut.”

Without even thinking twice about it, I declared, “Well, I’m always accepting new clients, so feel free to call and schedule something whenever you need that from me.”

“I just might take you up on that, Harlow.” The tone of his voice was low and filled with promise.

I pressed my lips together and swallowed. Part of the reason for that was because I still hadn’t gotten used to hearing the way he said my name, but the bigger reason for that was that I envisioned myself having that appointment with Blaze. I could have my hands in his hair, and we’d be in such close proximity to one another. I’d been seated next to him in his truck on the way here, and the scent of him in there had consumed me. Washing and cutting his hair would put us even closer together, and I liked the idea of that happening a lot.

Fortunately, my inability to respond was likely overlooked, because our server returned to the table with our dinner salads and appetizers. “Everything came out at the same time. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Blaze said.

After confirming we didn’t need anything else, our server walked away, and Blaze and I enjoyed some of our food in a comfortable silence. But after some time passed, he said, “So, I have a question. What do you do when you aren’t busy working and making people feel and look good?”

And this was the part of the evening I was convinced would make me look like a total fool. “Not a whole lot,” I answered. “I know I mentioned it last weekend, but I’m a very boring woman.”

“I just can’t believe that’s true,” he said, his lips twitching as he shook his head.

“But it is,” I insisted. “I don’t really get out a whole lot. I spend time with my family on holidays or special occasions. I get together on a somewhat regular basis with my best friend, but there isn’t some place I like to go frequently or thing I like to do all the time.”

“Well, what do you do after you leave work?” he asked.

“I go home. What else would I do?”

Blaze stared at me in disbelief. “So, are you afraid to try new things, or is there something else that stops you from ever having any fun?”

I took a sip of my drink and shrugged. “I’m not afraid. I think my problem is that I started my career so young, and I fell into this trap of always working. In fact, I used to work every day except for Sundays, and it was only in the last two years or so that I started giving myself Sundays and Mondays off. But it’s strange, because I’m not necessarily doing anything fun on my days off. I just catch up on housework or go to the grocery store. Believe it or not, it’s taken me this long to realize that my life is passing me by. I want to change it, which is why I joined the dating app. I thought if I could put myself out there and find someone I enjoyed spending my time with, that guy could help me break out of my shell, so I could have some new life experiences.”

I didn’t know what I expected Blaze to do or say in response to that, but I was pleasantly surprised by what he did. As the corners of his mouth slowly tipped up into a smile, his eyes darkened. Then he said, “I think we’re going to spend the rest of this dinner tonight talking about all the things you haven’t done yet, and tomorrow is going to be the first day of me giving you those experiences.”

Just like that.

Blaze was prepared to take this on his shoulders.

Not only that, but he seemed excited about doing it. It was almost as though he believed he was going to have more fun with this than I would.

And I couldn’t say that bothered me.

I liked him, so if he was prepared to take this journey with me, I would have been a fool to turn him down.

The rest of our dinner had gone off without a hitch. The two of us stayed there long after we finished our dessert talking to one another, because we were having such a great time.

Blaze was so eager to hear about all the things I hadn’t ever done, never once making me feel bad about myself. I couldn’t remember ever laughing as much as I had while telling him all about my boring life, and when we finally got up to leave long after we’d first arrived for dinner, I was convinced Blaze had a list at least a mile long of all the things I’d never experienced in my life.

Since we had planned to get together tomorrow, Blaze and I thought it would be best for him to take me home after dinner. Considering we’d spent hours talking to each other at The Ridge, it didn’t feel like the date had been cut short, which I was grateful for, seeing as I’d had such a wonderful time with him.

And on the drive back to my place, even with Blaze continuing to ask me about whether I’d ever done certain things and me being completely wrapped up in that conversation, I noticed my belly trembling with nerves about how the night would end.

I’d truly had the best time with Blaze, and being back in the confined space of his truck together, I was being consumed by the clean and sharp scent of sandalwood that mixed with a hint of warm spice. It made me want to feel him wrap his arms around me so I could nestle myself close.

But I knew that wouldn’t happen unless Blaze took charge and made it happen. I was far too timid, far too inexperienced in that arena, to be the one to initiate something like that.

We finally made it back to my place, and once we arrived, Blaze said, “Wait there. I’ll come around to open your door.”

I honored his request, loving that he was such a gentleman. Within seconds, Blaze and I were walking hand in hand along the path that led from my driveway to my front door. Once we made it there and I had unlocked the door, I turned to focus my attention on Blaze.

Smiling at him, I said, “Thank you for dinner. I had such a lovely time tonight.”

Blaze returned the smile. “The pleasure was all mine, Harlow. I’m not sure I’ve ever laughed so much in all my life. I’ve never had a first date go so smoothly and feel so comfortable right from the start.”

Wow.

That was nice to hear.

“Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing. My cheeks hurt from laughing so much. I’m really looking forward to seeing what you decide for us to do tomorrow,” I said.

“No matter what, I promise it’ll be fun.”

I offered a nod in return, the smile still plastered on my face. “Well, I told you earlier that I was putting my faith in you for this date, and you proved I was safe to do that, so I’m going to do it again tomorrow.”

A look of pride washed over him. “I’m happy to hear that.”

There was an awkward moment of silence, and my smile began to fade. Blaze’s did, too, but I realized it wasn’t because either one of us was upset. If I had to guess, Blaze might have been feeling some of the same things I’d been feeling on the return drive here.

His eyes were roaming over my face, stopping several times to linger on my lips. I remained frozen to the spot, unsure how to proceed.

There was a big part of me that wanted to kiss him, to feel his arms around me, but if he didn’t make that move, it wasn’t going to happen. So, I waited.

And a moment later, I didn’t get all that I’d wanted, but I’d gotten something.

Blaze took half a step forward and closed the distance between our bodies. He wrapped an arm around my waist, leaned forward, and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. I was caught between trying to commit the feel of his lips to memory at the same time I attempted to inhale the scent of him so close to me.

When he pulled back, he smiled and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight, Harlow.”

I licked my lips, returned the smile, and rasped, “Goodnight, Blaze.”

He waited for me to open my door and step inside before he turned to leave. I stood in my doorway, watching as he backed out of the driveway, and when he finally drove off and I closed my door, I was thrilled to realize I could still feel the faintest touch of his kiss lingering on my cheek.