I was practically a zombie.
Pouring bleach all over the bathtub and tiled walls because I was paranoid we’d have some mutant lice that could survive without warmth and blood, I opened the bathroom window and closed the door behind me. I’d clean the crap out of it tomorrow. I found Dallas sitting on the same dining room chair he’d used to do Josh’s hair with his head propped up on his hand, his eyes closed. I’d barely paused between the living room and the dining room when he sat up and blinked sleepy eyes in my direction and patted his knees. “Let’s do it, Eggs.”
His nickname was so unexpected, I forgot he’d patted his lap, as I laughed.
Dallas smiled at the same time he spread his thighs and slid the chair back, showing me a folded towel on the floor. “This’ll have to be good enough for you to sit on for a while.”
“My head is going to be a lot harder than Josh’s,” I warned him.
He flicked his fingers. “I can do it.”
“We have to leave for the boys’ games in three hours.”
“Don’t remind me. Get over here.”
I blinked. “Do you do this for all the single parents on the team?”
He smiled weakly, but more than likely it was just exhaustion. “Only the ones who feed me. Come on before we both fall asleep.”
I wanted to fight with him, but I really didn’t have it in me. Before I knew it, my butt was on the towel between his feet and my shoulders were wedged between his knees. Soft pressure on the back of my head had me hunching forward.
“I’m going to start in the back and work my way to the front,” he let me know in a soft, sleepy voice. “If I stop moving, give me a nudge, okay?”
I giggled, so tired it sounded more like a groan. “If I fall on my face, feel free to leave me there.”
His laugh flowed over my shoulders at the same time I felt what could only be his fingers parting my hair in the back, flipping most of it over. “What time did you wake up today?”
I felt something brush over the nape of my neck. “Six. You?”
“Five thirty.”
“Ouch.” I yawned.
The sides of his fingers brushed against my ears as he continued combing. “I’ve been through worse in the military.”
“Mm-hmm.” I leaned forward to prop my head on my hand, elbow on my knee. “You were really in the navy for twenty-one years?”
“Yes.”
“How old were you when you enlisted?”
“Eighteen. I shipped out right after I graduated high school,” he explained.
“Whoa.” I couldn’t remember what the hell I’d been doing at eighteen. Nothing important, obviously. I hadn’t gone into beauty school until I was nineteen, once I’d decided going to college wasn’t for me and made my mom cry a couple of times. “Why the navy?”
“My dad was in it. My grandfather was too during World War II.” He made a low noise in his throat as he parted another section of my hair. “I always knew I’d enlist.”
“Did your mom freak out?”
“No. She knew. We lived in a small town in central Texas. There was nothing for me there. Even before I turned eighteen, she was going with me to talk to recruiters. She was excited and proud of me.” There was a pause, and then he said, “It was Jackson that lost it. He’s never forgiven me for leaving.”
“I thought you said you’d had some neighbors or family members that were there for you afterward?”
“They were there. For me. Jack…. They used to take me fishing, camping… my neighbor would take me to work with him for a long time to keep me out of trouble. He did tiling. That’s how I learned to do handyman things around the house. Jackson was never interested in going or doing any of those things. Me leaving was a betrayal.”
“You couldn’t have taken him with you.”
“I know.” Then why did he sound so sad admitting that?
“Does he try to use you as an excuse for why he got into drugs and all that?” I asked, still looking at the floor.
There was a slight pause and then, “Basically.”
“I don’t mean to call your brother a little shit—”
Dallas’s chuckle was really light. “He’s older than you are.”
“—but what a little shit. I understand why you help him out so much, I really do, but don’t let him make you feel guilty. You were a kid when your dad died. He wasn’t the only one who lost his dad, and look at you, you’re one of the nicest men I’ve ever met.” I shrugged beneath him. “And I don’t know of anyone who hasn’t made a stupid fucking decision at some point in their life. You just have to own up to it. He can’t blame you for anything.”
Dallas made a sharp noise before chuckling. “I used to tell him the same thing: if you fucked up, admit it, learn from it, and move on.”
“Exactly. It’s embarrassing and it sucks, but it would be worse than being an idiot twice.”
He agreed and went on combing through my hair. I could hear both of us breathing deeper, the urge to sleep getting worse and worse until I started taking deep breaths to stay awake.
“I’m falling asleep,” I warned him. “So, why did you leave the navy?”
“It’s tough moving every few years for half your life.” His finger brushed the shell of my ear and I felt a zing go up my spine. “I was ready to settle down. My retirement isn’t bad, and I like working with my hands. I always did. It isn’t fancy, but I like doing physical labor. It helps me sleep at night and pays the bills. I couldn’t handle working in an office. It would drive me nuts. I’m done with uniforms and small spaces.”
He likes working with his hands. I wasn’t going to make that statement into something more. Nope. No way. I also wasn’t going to imagine him in that cute white hat and collared uniform I’d seen men in the navy wear. So I changed the subject. “And you came to Austin because you have family here?”
“Yeah.”
“Miss Pearl?”
He hummed his yes. “We’ve always been close, and it worked out that the house I’m in now went on sale about six years ago, and I got it for a dime.”
“I had no idea you were related.”
“Forty-one years,” he murmured, sounding amused and sleepy. “I never thanked you for cutting her hair and helping her with her water heater a while back.”
“You don’t have to thank me. It wasn’t a big deal.” I yawned. “Do you see her often?”
“I’m over there all the time. We have dinner together almost every night.”
Shit.
“We watch some TV, I do things for her around the house, play some poker, and I go home at nine most every night we don’t have baseball,” he explained. “Once a month, I meet up with this guy I work with sometimes at Mayhem, and I go visit my family back home a couple of times a year for the weekend, but that’s my exciting life. I like it.”
He did things for his grandma around the house, played poker, and watched TV with her. Fuck. My. Life. In. Half. I had to squeeze my eyes closed because I didn’t want to watch myself lose my shit on the floor of my dining room.
Didn’t he know he wasn’t supposed to be this damn… perfect?