Well, hell. The man’s hotness had just escalated into underwear melting territory.
“And me,” Stef agreed.
Jeremiah gave her a level look. “Me too.”
Waylay’s lips quirked and she was having a hard time keeping her smile under wraps. I, on the other hand, suddenly felt a little damp in the eye and underwear areas.
“Then when they’re done kicking ass, you come find me,” Stasia said.
“And me. But preferably me first before anyone goes to jail,” I added.
“Party pooper,” Jeremiah teased.
“You got it, Way?” Knox pressed.
The tiniest of smiles played on her lips. “Yeah. I got it,” she said.
“In that case, let’s get back to giving you the best haircut in the world,” Stasia said with extra cheer.
My phone buzzed in my lap, and I glanced at the screen.
Stef: Told you your sister was a gigantic waste of DNA.
I sighed and tossed him a glare, then typed.
Me: I’m first in line for face punching when she turns up.
Stef: Good girl. Also, I added a bikini wax to your mani-pedi.
Me: Mean! Why?
Stef: Growly Tattoo Guy deserves to get laid after that speech. Also, Jer is fifty shades of gorgeous.
“Agree on both counts,” Jeremiah said from where he was reading over my shoulder.
Stef laughed while I turned six shades of scarlet.
“What are you agreeing to?” Knox demanded.
I clutched my phone to my chest and spun myself around to face the mirror. “Nothing. No one is agreeing to anything,” I said sharply.
“Face is burning up, Daisy,” Knox observed.
I considered crawling under my cape like a turtle and hiding there for the rest of my life. But then Jeremiah put his magic hands in my hair and did something lovely to my scalp, and I began to relax against my will.
Everyone went back to other conversations while I snuck surreptitious glances in Knox’s direction.
Not only had the man just given a little girl a hero, he also appeared to be a competent barber. I’d never considered haircuts sexy until this moment as Knox, arm muscles flexing, trimmed and shaped his client’s thick, dark hair.
Lots of mundane things were sexy when Knox Morgan was doing them.
“Ready for the razor?” he asked gruffly.
“You know it,” the man mumbled from under the hot towel on his face.
I watched in fascination as Knox got to work with a straight razor and a sweet-smelling shaving cream on his friend’s face.
It felt