He was just supposed to check on her. Not fall for her.
Book 1 in the Celestial Springs Salon Series
The last thing military widow Summer Bettes wants in her life is a new man. Correction, a new military man, though they’re all over Barrum, Kansas.
She’s convinced herself she works hard enough between taking care of her daughter, trying to maintain control of her asthma, and styling hair in the salon her mother owns, she doesn’t need a man in the mix as well.
Then, Matthew Hennessey walks into her life–or rather, back into her life, she starts to question everything.
Her husband’s rival on the wrestling mat in high school, Hennessey knows who Summer is. Always has. And she always held a special place in his heart. So after serving with her husband overseas, it was only right that he pay his respects to the widow when he came back state-side. He only wants to do right by her.
Unfortunately his desires are eclipsing his logic, and doing right by Summer is harder than he thought.
Series Info
Celestial Springs Salon Reading Order:
- Summer Burns
- Autumn Falls
- Winter Chills
Excerpt
I glanced at my watch.
Every hairdresser in the world lived by their watch--knowing the time was part of the job description.
“Miss Evelyn will be here for her shampoo and set in fifteen minutes, and then I have the Norbert twins for their haircuts and colors,” I said to myself as I tossed the remainder of my lunch in the trash. The break room was empty at the moment. My fellow stylists were out on the salon floor with their clients.
I patted my pocket where my rescue inhaler sat in my black smock. Always got to make sure I have that. Hadn’t needed it for a while, but you never know.
I grabbed my purse and darted from the break room to the waxing room, which had the best light to touch up my face. I powdered and puffed, wiped things off, and even fluffed my dirty blonde hair. It had some extra volume for a second, but that fell in a flash.
Damn hair.
I tipped my head to the side. “Maybe that’s what I should do,” I said, looking at my mousy hair. “Get some highlights. It’ll brighten me up. Maybe I won’t be so wallowy.”
The thought cheered me. After all, I worked in a salon. Surely we could find the time to brighten my hair.
The door to the waxing room opened, and Winter stuck her head in. “Summer? There’s a guy here to see you.”
I blinked. “Who is he?”
“He wouldn’t say, only that he wanted to speak to you,” Winter said.
“Do you know him?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I would have said if I did. He’s cute, though.” As the salon manager, my sister Winter knew every client that walked in the door. “Maybe he’s here to take you on a date.”
I rolled my eyes.
Yeah, because that won’t happen.
I wondered who he was--maybe a client’s husband, wanting to treat his wife? It happened every so often. But it usually happened in December, not in July. Maybe one of my clients was having a birthday?
I walked through the salon floor, where stylist Audra finished up with the client in her chair. The client, Shelby, otherwise known as my nemesis, gave me the stink eye.
Everyone in town knew of me and Shelby’s sordid past. I fell in love with a boy. She stole him from me. I beat her up under the bleachers at the football game. She got me suspended from school…
Yeah. It was a whole thing.
Why the woman had to come to my beauty shop--okay, my mom’s beauty shop--to get her hair done, I didn’t know.
I turned and smiled at Shelby, that business smile I’d mastered over the years, and continued through the salon.
The other stylists and nail techs were working, and the buzz that never entirely goes away filled the salon--a culmination of voices, blow dryers, sprays, and nail files running had become a backwash noise that, in a strange way, felt like home.
I’d been a hairdresser for over a decade--even when Jake and I moved from base to base, I could always find work, and it was the same sounds, no matter what salon I worked in. All the traveling made the familiar environment more home than anything I had for a long time.
Stepping around the corner, my hand bumped the little patriotic flag table topper on the edge of the reception desk. Mom put it there when I married Jake--it was the only patriotic decoration that remained up year-round. It had other accompanying red, white, and blue pieces that filled the reception area, even though the Fourth of July was last weekend.
The receptionist, Mikelanne, rubbed her ready-to-pop, pregnant tummy and gestured to the man who stared at the retail shelves near the door with a grin on her face.
I paused.
The guy was in fatigues.
He turned around and had his hat in his hand. Immediately my eyes darted to his shoulder and recognized the stripes for Sergeant, First Class.
My heart pounded.
A man in fatigues hadn’t come to see me since, well… that day...
I had to force myself to cross the reception area. This wasn’t a repeat. It couldn’t be…
I met the Sergeant’s eyes.
He took a step. “Mrs. Bettes?”
I nodded. “Sergeant.” Somewhere my insides jumped into gear. I held out my hand, and he shook it.
“I, uh,” he paused, closed his eyes, and then opened them. “I came to pay my respects.”
I blinked, then my brain kicked in. “Of course, thank you.” Why else would a man in fatigues be visiting me?
He squeezed the hat in his hand. “May I speak with you privately?”
“Sure.” I led him to the small consultation room we had tucked into a corner. However, most of the time, the room was a catch-all, where advertising was sorted, and the extra stock got shoved that didn’t fit on the retail shelves.
Today was an explosion of rainbow-colored flyers for a charity event next week. A contrast to the room’s pi
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