“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.

Oh. Yeah.

Frankenstein he was not. His dull brown hair now gleamed with health and shine, in a dusky golden brown that picked up the moss green in his eyes. The expert cut gave the front a bit of a wave that just brushed his brow. The back was a layered razor cut to shape his head and give him a touch of bad boy. The features of his face were finally revealed, and she admitted it had been a crime to cover them up with all that hair. She envisioned the way the dark stubble would edge his chiseled jaw and mouth, adding to the overall appeal. Her belly flipped over just once.

“You’re looking at me funny. How bad is it?”

Kennedy smiled. “You look amazing. Turn around.”

The chair swiveled. Those eyes widened as he took in the new cut. They both waited him out. Kennedy was getting used to his silences, and respected the way his mind processed every detail of the world around him.

“Not bad.”

Benny sniffed. “As if. I am a master. We should have done this for a reality TV show. I would’ve been famous.”

“As if,” Nate muttered.

Kennedy gave him a glare in the mirror and hugged Benny. “You are a genius, thank you.”

“For you, my love, anything. He must moisturize weekly and return to me every week until I am assured he can handle his stubble. Have you considered laser hair therapy for his back?”

“Hey, Ben, have you read the latest article in Esquire citing a diamond earring worn in the left ear gives off an air of desperation? How are you making out on the bar scene lately?”

The hooked nose turned up in its signature sign of disgust. “Stop being a mitch and get your ass out of my salon.”

“A what? A mitch? What the hell is that?”

“A male bitch. Don’t you get out enough? Learn the language.”

Nate gaped. “That word doesn’t exist and is not defined by Webster’s.”

“Live your life by Webster’s standards and you’ll miss out on everything. Wake up.”

“I’m in some type of acid-tripped-up Wonderland. I can take care of my own stubble.”

Benny dropped his voice. “Cross me once, my little aerospace engineer, and you shall live to regret it.”

“Go ahead. Make my day.”

Ken jumped in between them. “Bonding time is over! Let’s go.” She scrawled her name to the VISA sales slip, grabbed the moisturizer, and marched Nate out.

“How do you find these people? First Ming, then Benny. Who’s next, the murderer from Texas Chainsaw Massacre to show me how to socialize properly?”

She clamped down another laugh and headed toward the car. “No, Kinnections will take care of that. The gym is next; I have something planned. You can meet me there Wednesday night. I’ll text you the address.”

Misery carved out his features. “Funny, suddenly having my hair ripped from my skin sounds like more fun.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Is this your car?” She looked down at the super sleek black Tesla and gave him extra points. “Nice.”

He practically beamed. “Thanks. Completely battery powered and emission free.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “And it’s pretty hot. So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Where are you going?”

She frowned. “Home.”

“It’s a beautiful night, you tortured me for hours, and I’m due a reward.” Kennedy jumped off the curb. No way was she going through another stolen-kiss routine. The first one had almost ruined her. Nate laughed. “Relax. I’m not going to jump you. We’re getting ice cream.” He snagged her hand and led her down the sidewalk.

Shock kept her immobile for a while. “Ice cream? It’s March. Ice cream is one of the most fattening treats a person can indulge in. Absolutely not. I’m avoiding dairy lately at all costs.”

“And you’re probably miserable. It’s the last week in March and officially spring. Eating ice cream alone is a crime—you’re coming with me. Consider it babysitting duty. You can watch me eat and make sure I don’t get into any trouble.”

A dozen protests fluttered through her mind, but he allowed her no time to voice them. The sun hung suspended over the line of the Hudson River, caught between day and evening, and threw the world into a rosy light that shimmered off the water. Her heels clicked on the pavement as he settled into a comfortable walking pace and began his way up Main Street. Shops began to turn on their silvery lights and displayed their wares proudly, ranging from pottery and sculpture to an array of cafés promising baked goods, fresh breads, and designer coffees. Kennedy relaxed and waved to Julia, the local librarian, and chatted a few seconds with old man Charlie, who sat on the same park bench beginning at five o’clock until his buddy Frank got off work and they marched to Mugs for their daily Coors Light cocktail. Emma stopped them to give Kennedy a special gluten-free dog treat for Kate’s dog, Robert, to help test out the new samples from the Barking Dog Bakery. Nate seemed comfortable to hang out while she chatted. Emma shot them a curious look. She tried to tug her hand from his grip, but he held firm, so she gave up. When was the last time she strolled down the street hand in hand with a man? His fingers were warm and strong, and it was nice to pretend for a little while that she had a normal relationship like everyone else.

A group of boys flew past them on skateboards, chased by giggling girls. She suddenly realized he seemed to know the town well.

“I didn’t know you were familiar with Verily.”

“I’m not.”

She swung her head around. His profile was strong and graceful in the dying sun, even marred by the horrible frames of his glasses. “Then how do you know there’s an ice cream place open?”

“A quaint, artistic river town in New York on Main Street. Are you kidding? They always have ice cream.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t even have dinner yet.”

“I’m a rebel.”

Kennedy smiled.

They reached the small café, Xpressions, which boasted gourmet treats and homemade ice cream chock full of calories, fat, and deliciousness. Nate took his time picking out the flavor, requesting samples of the Raspberry Razzle and Chocolate Truffle. She thought about getting a fat-free frozen yogurt, but it was just too pathetic even to bother with. He turned to her with a serious frown. “If it was up to you, what flavor would you get?”

A bit of grumpiness overtook her. “Why get fruit in an ice cream? It’s pointless.”

He tapped the small plastic spoon against his mouth. “Brilliant theory. I’ll take a double scoop, please. Chocolate Truffle and the Peanut Butter Bash.”

Her stomach growled. She tried to remind herself that she had a perfectly proportioned piece of poached salmon and unbuttered green beans at home waiting for her. “Peanut butter is also high in fat. You just picked the two worst flavors to guarantee the clogging of arteries.”

He gasped in mock horror. “Worse than the Cake Batter or Cookie Dough?”

“Fine. It’s your funeral.”

“Oh and on one of those homemade waffle cones, please. Sure you don’t want one? They have frozen yogurt.”

She glared. “No, thanks.”

His face relaxed into the joy of a child as he attacked the ice cream cone, a bunch of napkins wrapped around the base. “Let’s sit for a few minutes.”

“I have to get home.”

“Just a minute.”

She huffed but led him to the carved bench by the dog park. They watched the dogs run and play in wild abandon, while they sat under a twisted elm tree. A man wrapped his arms around his lover and stole a kiss by the wire fence. Ken relaxed. She hadn’t come out for a walk in a while. It was kind of nice to just sit and enjoy the sights of Verily.

“I love New York. Always amazed me you can hike the mountains, ride a horse, and see a Broadway play all within an hour of each other. Have you lived in Verily your whole life?” he asked.