"So how long have you been working for my mother?" Gunnar took a sip of his jet-black coffee.
Tillman blinked. "Man, it's still wild to me that Queen is your mom."
"I've been getting that most of my life."
"Yeah, I can imagine. I've been working at the salon for only six months. It's cool. I didn't go to barber school, so most barber shops wouldn't give me a chance." Tillman leaned back against the bench in the booth and chuckled. "I remember I had lied to your mom about my experience. I knew how to do hair because my grandma and my mom did it out of their homes for years."
"So you learned the same way I did." Gunnar smiled.
Tillman nodded. "No one would hire me without some piece of paper saying that I could style. Queen interviewed me and I told her that I went to cosmetology school. Of course, she asked me which one. I lied again and made up some place so that she couldn't do any research, but your mom is smart."
"That she is." Gunnar had been caught in many a lie back before he'd reformed himself.
"So she called me on my lie. I thought she was going to show me the door. Instead, she gave me an opportunity. She allowed me to style one customer." Tillman held up his index finger. "If the customer and your mother liked it, I could stay. If the style was whack, I would be out of there." He held up his hands. "As you can see, I'm still here today."
"Did you ever get your license?" Gunnar didn't ask to bust the guy.
"Of course. Your mom put me through school while I worked for her. She's a smart, cool lady."
Gunnar nodded. "She absolutely is. Always willing to give people a chance."
By the end of his story, the waitresses brought their breakfasts. Gunnar had picked this place because he knew they made their food quickly.
"Do you see yourself working in a salon the rest of your life?" Gunnar asked.
Tillman shook his head. "Eventually, I'd like to do what your mother did and own my own salon. I'd like to think that one day your mom will make me manager, but no one can get by Eboni. She's her girl."
Just hearing Eboni's name prickled Gunnar's skin. He had managed to get her out of his mind during breakfast. Now the kiss invaded his thoughts again.
"Does that bother you that my mom relies on Eboni so much?"
Tillman shook his head. "I haven't earned that spot yet. Eb's been with your mom for years, and she works hard. She's one of those sisters that you know will do something special with her life. When she's not working, she's usually at that center. If she's not there or at the salon, she's taking care of her aunt. That woman is focused."
Gunnar knew that from being with her before. Now he wanted to kick himself for letting her go.
"Don't worry, man. I won't go after her." Tillman raised his hands in the air as he laughed.
"No worries. I know you won't."
The waitress collected their empty plates and left their check.
"How are you so sure about that?" Tillman wiped his mouth and finished off his sweet tea.
Gunnar chuckled. "Because you know. You're gay."
The smile slipped down Tillman's face. He grabbed his jacket and jumped out of the booth.
Gunnar managed to throw some money on the table and paid the check with the cashier while keeping Tillman in his sights. He chased after Tillman who stomped down the street.
"Tillman, wait. Did I say something wrong?" Gunnar wriggled into his coat as he chased the big man.
Without a word, Tillman stopped and turned around to him. "Did someone say something to you?"
Gunnar shook his head. "No."
Tillman leaned his head toward him. "Then how did you know?"
"I've been around enough closeted guys to recognize the signs. Although I don't have a problem with anyone's sexual preference, I have noticed you staring at my ass when I look in the mirror at the salon."
Tillman put his hands behind his neck and leaned his head back. "Fuck. If you know, I wonder if anyone else knows."
"I'm guessing you haven't come out yet."
Tillman shook his head.
"Want to come back to the truck? We can talk there where it's warmer."
Tillman waved his hand in the air. "I don't want to talk about it. Not with you. You wouldn't understand."
"I wouldn't understand feeling out of place and being different?" Gunnar cocked his head. "Come on. I won't say a word to anyone. It's your business. As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't change you as a person."
Tillman snickered. "Wished my family felt that way."
"If they love you, it won't matter who you fall in love with."
Tillman wagged his finger in Gunnar's face. "If you say a word to anyone, I'll beat your ass."
Gunnar squared off in front of the man. "I won't say a word. Now get your finger out of my face before I break it and your hand."
After a quick beat, Tillman lowered his hand.
"Come on back. As far as I'm concerned, we had a great breakfast." Gunnar nodded toward his vehicle. "Let's get you back to work."
Tillman said nothing on the walk back to the truck or on the trip back to the salon. After Gunnar parked, Tillman grabbed Gunnar's arm.
"Thanks."
"For what?" Gunnar turned off the vehicle.
"I don't know a lot of straight guys, especially guys like you, who wouldn't have ridiculed me. You're pretty cool."
Gunnar shrugged. "I don't feel that way sometimes. But I'll take the compliment."
"So these closeted guys you know, any of them MMA fighters like you?"
Gunnar chuckled. "If you want me to hook you up, just ask."
"Hook a brother up."
Gunnar laughed. "First thing's first. Get your life in order before you try involving other people."
Tillman grabbed the handle to the backdoor of the salon and opened it. "Taking that advice yourself?"
Great question. Gunnar couldn't answer that. Luckily, he wouldn't have to right now. As soon as Gunnar walked into the salon, he felt the energy in the room. The place had been empty when he and Tillman had left for breakfast. Now the waiting area overflowed with clients.
"What in the world is going on?" Gunnar asked.
"It's about time you two came back," Eboni snapped. "As soon as you left, all of these people showed up." She pointed at Gunnar. "All of them looking for you."
Tillman leaned over to Gunnar. "Gonna break her finger?"
"All of these people can't be here because I'm here." Gunnar saw more women than men.
"There he is," a woman squealed.
Oh shit.
"Why are they here?" Gunnar removed his jacket and headed to the office.
"Marc posted on his Facebook page about this hot guy working at this salon who did wonders on his baby's hair," one woman said as she stared directly at Gunnar. "He was so right."
"We need help." Desperation filled Eboni's eyes.
"I'll get to my station." Tillman went to his area and quickly accepted the next client.
"If there are no empty stations, I'll take over the shampoo station." Gunnar stood by the sink.
"Are you serious?" Eboni asked as she put curlers in a woman's hair.
"I'm here to help." Gunnar hoped Eboni believed that.
"It would have helped if you and Tillman hadn't gone out for breakfast." Eboni glared at Gunnar and then brought her attention back to her client.
Gunnar didn't want to start a fight in front of a roomful of customers. He would play nice until he could get her alone. He'd had enough of her frosty attitude.
Eboni had never seen the salon look so busy, not since the salon's heyday when the main road had gone by the place. As much as it bothered her to have Gunnar here, she had to admit his presence brought in customers. With customers, the salon would bring in a lot of money. She could use her money for the center.
With all the business, Eboni still had a way to keep her distance from Gunnar. She needed the space. The more he asked her to dinner, the more she wanted to tell him yes. Between his accommodating nature and the kiss, she found it hard to resist him. If she couldn't rebuff his advances, she would make him not want her anymore. Being difficult with him seemed to do it.
"I'm ready to shampoo the next person." Gunnar wiped his hands on the white terrycloth towel he had draped over his shoulder.
"I have one for you here." Monica pointed a woman in Gunnar's direction.
Gunnar reached up to get a towel to wrap around the woman's shoulders. "Looks like I'm out of towels."
"Great." Eboni stomped by him. "So professional." She ducked behind a curtain that separated the main salon from where their supplies and washer and dryer hid.
Right now, the washer had a full load of towels in it, probably thanks to Gunnar.
"Hey." Gunnar followed her into the area. "Is there a reason you're giving me a hard time out there? I'm doing the best I can."
"Maybe you need to do more." Eboni reached up to retrieve clean, folded towels.
She heard the wobbly shelf creaking before it started to come down. Gunnar pressed his body behind hers and held the shelf before it toppled on top of her. In his position, he had her pinned between his rock-hard body and the vibrating washer.
"What are you doing?" Eboni swatted him with her free hand.
"I'm trying to keep this shelf from falling on your head. Stay right there." He used his other hand to brace the shelf against the wall, which pushed his body into her even more.
"I've been here longer than you and know about this shelf. It falls off the wall all the time. Move." When Eboni tried wiggling from under him, Gunnar's hand slipped and he nearly dropped the shelf.
"Will you stop moving? You're going to make me drop this on you. Stay right there!"
"I'm a lot tougher than you think. I will not break if this shelf falls on me." She pushed her back against his chest. "Move."
"Stay right there." Gunnar pushed his body forward. "I almost have it."
As though wanting in on the combative exchange, the washer hit its spin cycle. The sudden vibrations sent a rippling feeling throughout Eboni's body, enough that she had to brace her hands on the lid. Between the steady tremors and the feeling of Gunnar against her ass, she closed her eyes and imagined the two of them in bed, limbs intertwined, and Gunnar deep inside her.
He must have felt something as well. Eboni felt the length of him through his jeans. It pressed against her hip until he moved around and got it between her cheeks.
"Move." This time Eboni said it for a different reason. She wanted to feel Gunnar move his hips and slide the length of his manhood between her cheeks.
He must have felt the same way. Gunnar thrust his hips ever so slowly and accompanied the motion with a low groan. "Stay right there."
He managed to hold the shelf against the wall with one hand. He wrapped his free arm around her waist.
Eboni gripped the hand he used to hold her. The vibrations from the old washer increased in intensity. Or maybe Eboni imagined it. Either way, she didn't want this sensation to stop.
"Move," she said with a harried breath.
"Stay right there," Gunnar quickly followed.
He brushed himself against her. When she felt his chest against her back, Eboni didn't want the feeling to end. His warm breath feathered over her ear and cheek.
Eboni leaned her head back and closed her eyes. When he moved his hand around her waist, she let him. She pushed her back against him and undulated her hips.
She had the smooth corner of the washer nestled between her legs, vibrating against her now-throbbing clitoris as her former lover rocked his body back and forth. Her nipples hardened and strained against her lace bra. Her heart pounded so hard, it sounded in her head.
Gunnar's staggered breathing pattern matched hers. Again, she imagined her and Gunnar entwined in bed, and him giving her the hot, hard sex she'd been missing for years.
The washer continued its mad gyrations, screeching and squealing like an active sexual partner. Gunnar exhibited so much control. Not only did he continue supporting the wobbly shelf, he kept his arm around her body, protecting her, controlling her, driving her crazy like only he could.
He eased his hand up her body until he stopped under her breast. Gunnar swept his large thumb under her sensitive tit, now heavy with need. He continued grinding against her ass, which, in turn, rubbed her clit against the washer.
Eboni's body trembled. She gripped his hand, interlacing her fingers with his oversized digits in an effort to ground herself. She felt his head lowering down to the side of her face.