“I’m sure.” I was, and as long as I kept my temper in check, this would all be fine.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Owen McGinty said as he walked in from the back of the barbershop. “I’ll take whoever’s next.” His smile died when none of them took the offer.

“They’re waiting for the show to start, Owen,” Earl told him with raised eyebrows.

“Show?” He paled when he spotted me. “Hey, Camden, how’s it going?”

“Can’t complain,” I replied, careful not to move as Earl finished me up. “How are Lisa and the kids?”

“Good, good,” he answered carefully. The heir to the barbershop empire was about ten years older than me and clearly knew what was up when he started watching the clock.

“Grab me a towel, would you, Owen?” Earl asked his son.

Two minutes later, my hair was done, and Owen handed Earl the hot towel with a warning look.

“I know what I’m doing, son,” Earl promised, then reclined my chair so I was nearly horizontal.

“Three minutes,” Nick noted, and the rest mumbled their agreement.

“It’s not an easy thing you’re doing here,” Earl said loudly enough for everyone in the shop to hear. “Taking on a brother isn’t something I’d ever want my boys to do.” He shot a look at Owen. “But I’d hope that my boys would agree to give me the respect of choosing my own path. No one should be forced to surrender control of their own body.”

The men muttered in agreement, and I found my chest heavy with an emotion I was scared to call pride.

“I saw that tattoo, Cam. You’re doing the right thing.” Earl passed his judgment with a smile. “Now, we’ll see if you live through the next few minutes.” He wrapped the towel around my face, both softening my week’s worth of beard growth and disguising my face. “Don’t breathe a word until I tap your foot. Understand?”

I nodded, then resigned myself to breathing in the hot, humid air for the next few minutes.

Right on time, the bell rang as the front door opened.

“Morning, Judge,” Earl called out in greeting.

“Morning, Earl. The usual, please. Oh, you men haven’t been tended to yet?” Noah Bradley’s voice was muffled with the towel so close to my ears, but I made him out just fine.

“Oh, no, you first,” Tyler insisted.

I could only imagine the nods of the other men.

“Here you go, Judge. Let’s get you softened up. Don’t you worry, Owen will catch up with the boys between the tourists who filter in,” Earl added, and I knew he’d just given me a cover without technically lying.