I stared at my reflection with frustration and anger. My long red-blond hair wasn't doing what I wanted it to. I was just going to pull it back into a messy bun, but I couldn't get my hair to stay in the pins and tie. I growled low in my throat and let my hair fall from where I had it in my hands at the crown of my head. Normally I would have called for my female roommate, Jessica, but she was out of the house at the moment. There was only one option. Connor Davenport. He was a Native American half breed, and not that I minded. I secretly liked the native men. They were more honorable, more understanding and reliable. Not to mention that copper skin and dark hair was a combination few women could resist. I heaved out a heavy sigh and grabbed a hair tie and my brush and left my room. I carefully crept down the stairs, a habit of mine to stay quiet, and I spotted Connor exactly where I thought he would be. He was sitting on the couch, book in hand and cup of coffee in the other. I slowly walked towards him, my sock clad feet not making a sound on the hardwood floor.
"Connor?" I called out softly, making him jerk and turn to look at me.
"How did you do that?" he asked, frowning at me.
Connor was a master assassin, fighting Templars and their plots. My father had been an assassin, and that was the only reason he was allowed to stay here. Not to mention it was nice having a man in the house when there were heavy things to be moved, jars to be opened, and the like. I gave him a sheepish look and glanced at my feet.
"I'm just quiet. Hey, can you do me a favor?" I answered, glancing back up at him.
"Of course. What do you need?" he asked, coming to his feet.
I cleared my throat and approached him, nervous about being this close to my crush.
"I can't get my hair to do what I want it to. I would have asked Jessica, but she isn't here. Can you braid it for me?" I asked, a blush coming across my cheeks.
For the first time in a long time Connor smiled and chuckled.
"Sure! That's easy to do. Would you like beads in your hair too?" he asked, pulling on the single braid in front of his left ear that bore two colored beads from his mother.
"If you want. I just need my hair out of my face," I said, unable to stop the smile that graced my face.
He motioned for me to sit on the floor in front of the sofa and I sat while he went to find whatever it was he was looking for. He came back with a comb and a small leather pouch I assumed held beads and the like in it. He carefully climbed behind me and I held up my brush for him and the hair tie so that he would have everything he needed. He took the brush from me and for the instant our fingers touched I felt electricity spark through our fingers. I pulled my hand back quickly and folded them in my lap and waited. I closed my eyes as Connor gently began to brush my hair, his movements slow and even. His big fingers combed through my hair and I couldn't help but to relax. My father used to play with my hair, and it felt comfortable to me.
"You have beautiful hair, Ashley. I've never felt hair so soft before," Connor said softly, placing the brush aside and reaching for his comb.
"My father said that all the time too. He loved to play with it when he came home after missions. I didn't realize how much I missed it," I murmured, feeling my eyes water at the memory of my father.
"If you want, I could braid your hair whenever you feel like it. I don't mind, gives me something to do that feels familiar. My mother used to let me braid her hair when I was little," he murmured back, making me smile.
"Do you miss it? Playing with her hair I mean?" I asked quietly, a small smile on my face.
"At times. But I have you to keep me from feeling sad about it," he said, shocking me with his words.
"What do you mean?" I asked, tensing a bit as he separated my hair into sections for braiding.
"You're always baking something different than what my mother would have made, and I always like what you make. You always introduce me to new things, and make me laugh. The only times that I think of my mother is when you speak of your father. You sound a lot like me in your grief," Connor said quietly, pausing in what he was doing.
"I didn't mean to make you sad, Connor," I murmured, feeling guilty.
"Don't worry about it. Besides, when you say my real name I often forget what I was doing in the first place," he chuckled, starting to braid my hair and every once in a while he would stop to slide a bead into the locks.
"I didn't realize I had that effect on you. If it makes you uncomfortable I can just call you Connor," I said, turning my head to glance up at him in worry.
"I like it when you say my real name. Not many people can even pronounce it," he said, gently turning my head back with his hands and continuing in his work.
"Oh. I didn't know you liked your real name. I just thought you got tired of people messing it up and just had them call you Connor," I giggled, closing my eyes as he gently brushed a section of hair over my shoulder.
"True, but when you say it, it makes me feel at home," he said, his already deep voice getting deeper, if that was even possible.
"Very well, Ratonhnhake:ton. I'll use your real name from now on," I said, smiling when he froze behind me.
It took him a minute to get back on track and I couldn't hide the smile on my face as he finished up his work. Once he was done I came to my feet and went over to the mirror on the wall to survey his handiwork. I couldn't stop the knee weakening grin from gracing my face no matter how hard I tried. The dark blue, dark red, and black beads with forest animal carvings that littered the numerous braids all looped into a larger one what went down my back complimented my fair hair color and light green and gold eyes. I spun to face Connor and gave him my brightest smile.
"Thank you! It is perfect!" I squealed, jumping over to him and placing a kiss on his cheek.
Before I could pull away one of his heavily muscled arms banded around my hips and pulled me closer.
"You're welcome, Ashley. And you look beautiful," he murmured, nuzzling my throat and making me gasp in surprise.
I started to pant softly when he suddenly pulled me onto his lap, forcing my legs to straddle his own. I frowned down at him and he gave me a smile.
"Don't you have a girlfriend?" I hissed, giving him an unsure look.
"What made you think I have a girlfriend?" he asked, smirking at me.
"Well, you're just so...so handsome. I figured a man like you would have a girlfriend," I mumbled, looking away from him and toying with a loose string in his shirt.
"Well, I don't have a girlfriend, but I'm hoping to change that right now," he laughed, making me look at him in shock.
I nodded my head before he could even ask me to be his girlfriend and I leaned down and molded my lips to his. His hands pulled me closer and I arched my back to press my breasts against his chest. He was mine, and after all these months crushing hard on him and thinking he was someone else's man, I was the happiest I could ever be. The sudden clearing of the throat behind us made me snap my head up and I froze. Jessica had returned from her errands and was standing in the walkway with a grin on her face and her hands on her hips. Connor craned his head back beneath me to give Jessica a shocked look and the blush that spread across his cheeks had her giggling.
"About time you two got together," Jessica laughed, making me pick up a pillow and throw it at my friend.
But I wasn't angry. This had turned out to be the best hair mishap of my life. And I wouldn't hesitate to ask Connor to braid my hair more often.