Sold on Love, page 15
She stepped around another large crack in the cement driveway, walked to the front door, and rang the doorbell. Silence. Okay, the bell was broken. Add that to the list of repairs. She opened the screen door and knocked on the solid wood door, then peeked into one of the three thin, rectangular windows set at an angle but couldn’t see anything inside. Then the door opened.
“Hello, there, Miss Harper,” Senior said, giving her a charming smile. “Rusty told me you were comin’ over. He’s upstairs gettin’ a shower. Gave me instructions to keep you company until he finished sprucin’ himself up, so come on in. I’ve got some fresh sweet tea ready for ya.”
“Thank you.” She followed him inside. Why was Rusty just now taking a shower?
Her mind shifted to the house again. Minus the hole in the floor, the living room didn’t look to be in horrendous shape—on the surface, anyway. It definitely needed a lot of updating.
“Mind your step,” he said, pointing to a dark-green carpet that had been pulled back to reveal an opening at least a foot in diameter. “Rusty had a little mishap the other day.”
“I heard.” She stepped over the hole and followed Senior into a kitchen that looked straight out of the fifties, right down to the muddy brown linoleum and ice-green walls. A small table was situated in the middle of the dining space, and a plain glass pitcher with amber liquid and floating ice cubes sat in the center. Three glasses with roosters etched on the sides stood next to the pitcher, along with a glass plate filled with Oreos. Double-stuffed, she noticed. Three small glass plates decorated with the same roosters sat next to the Oreos.
“Have a seat.” Senior pulled out one of the chairs from the table. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, please.” She smiled and sat down, setting her handbag on the linoleum floor.
He poured a glass and set it down in front of her, then picked up the plate. “Can I interest you in an Oreo?”
“I’d love one.”
“Don’t be shy. You can have more than one.”
“All right, I’ll take two.” She put both Oreos on her plate as he sat down.
“Funny how we haven’t exchanged pleasantries before,” Senior said, sitting down next to her. “I thought I knew everyone in Maple Falls.”
“I didn’t grow up here.” She explained how she’d gone to private schools her whole childhood and didn’t start getting engaged with the community until after getting her real-estate license. “My parents don’t technically live in Maple Falls, but my mother made some friends here several years ago.” Harper wondered if the BBs knew about the divorce. Surely Madge wouldn’t have told any of them before telling her own daughter.
He took a sip of his tea. “Rusty tells me you’re helpin’ him find a new place. As you can see, this one needs a little sprucin’ up.”
“It’s cute, though. I love the vintage vibe.”
Senior smiled, a faraway look in his eyes. “We couldn’t bring ourselves to update it,” he said. “I built this house in seventy-one, right after Judy and I got married. She decorated it herself.” He touched the glass of tea in front of him. “Shortly after we moved in, she found these at an estate sale. Haven’t used them since she passed. Until today.”
Harper’s heart squeezed. “I can tell you loved her very much.”
“I did.” Senior cleared his throat. “She was the best wife a man could have, and a wonderful mother and grandmother.” A shadow passed over his face. “Our son Junior was a free spirit, and we learned the hard way he was going to do his own thing. But gettin’ the chance to raise Rusty and Amber . . . Well, that was a blessin’ indeed.” He looked at Harper. “Family. Gotta love them, but they sure can be messy.”
“Yes, they can.” She took a sip of the tea, pushing the quick thought about her troubled parents to the side. “Delicious. Did you make this?”
“Naw. Lipton did.” He grinned and snuck an Oreo off the plate as Rusty walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, Harper,” he said, his damp hair slicked back from his forehead.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m late. It, uh, took longer for me to get ready than I thought.” No need to admit she’d done a little work on her day off.
“It’s all right. Runnin’ a little behind myself.” He glanced at his grandfather. “Oreos, Senior? Really?”
“You said to fix her a snack.”
“I meant the coffee cake I picked up on the way home.” Rusty turned to Harper, and the top of his cheeks that weren’t covered in red hair turned rosy. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m not. I love Oreos.” She twisted one apart and licked the cream filling.
Rusty’s eyes widened, then he turned away. “Uh . . .”
“Uh, what, Rusty?” Senior asked, leaning back in his chair and grinning.
“Have you seen my shoes?” His gaze dashed around the kitchen as if he was going to find them in the sink, refrigerator, or stove.
Harper bit into the cookie and glanced down at his bare feet. They looked nice, with neatly trimmed nails.
“Which ones?” Senior asked.
“Sneakers.”
Senior shook his head. “How should I know where your shoes are?”
Rusty rolled his eyes. “Then why didn’t you say that in the first place? I’ll be right back, Harper.”
After he left the room, Senior chuckled. “My boy’s sweet on you, Miss Harper.”
Harper shook her head. To her surprise, her face heated. She focused on the half-eaten Oreo. “I don’t think so.”
“You’re just sayin’ that ’cause you’re used to guys payin’ attention to ya, a pretty girl like yourself. Reckon it can be hard to tell when the interest is real or not.”
She started to deny his words, but they hit close to the truth.
“My Judy was a stunner,” he said, then tapped one finger against the table. “And don’t think for a minute I didn’t notice how she grabbed the fellas’ attention in her younger days. She grabbed mine right off the bat.”
“Did that make you jealous?” She remembered Jack’s reactions when men noticed her. “When they paid attention to her like that?”
“Naw. Judy never gave me no reason not to trust her, and she was the only woman for me. I wasn’t about to let that bitter weed infest our marriage.”
“That’s so sweet,” she said. She thought about her parents again. What had caused their marriage to go off the rails? She knew her mother had been unhappy, even though she tried to hide it—and she hid it well because her father never seemed to notice. Was that why Madge wanted a divorce? She was tired of being ignored? But that didn’t explain the past two years, when Don had been overly attentive.
Not your business, remember?
“Okay, I’m ready.” Rusty entered the kitchen, white sneakers on his feet, baggy jeans and a black-and-white plaid shirt covering the rest of him. A thick hank of bangs had dried enough to fall over half of his forehead, as if he’d shoved them to the side before walking into the kitchen. The ends were well past his eyes.
“Where were the shoes?” Senior asked.
“Next to my bed,” Rusty muttered. “Guess I forgot I put them there.”
Senior winked at Harper. “What did I tell ya?”
Harper didn’t think forgetting where a pair of shoes was indicated anything. She waved him off with a smile. “Thanks for the tea and cookies, Mr. Jenkins.”
Senior rose from the table and took her hand, then kissed the top in an overly dramatic gesture. “Please,” he said. “Call me Russell.”
“Give me a break.” Rusty shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “She’ll call you Senior like everyone else does.”
His grandfather chortled and let go of her hand. “You two have a nice outing, ya hear?”
She couldn’t help but grin back. “We will.” I hope. Contrary to his placid demeanor this morning, Rusty seemed on edge. And what Russell, er, Senior chalked up to being sweet on her had to be his grandson’s apprehension about the auction. Nothing else.
As they walked out of the house, Rusty said, “Don’t pay him no mind.”
“Why not? He’s adorable. The women are going to love him at the gala.”
“I’m sure they will.” He turned to her, the wind whipping his long hair. “Are we taking my truck or the Merc?”
“My car,” she said.
“I’ll grab my coat.” He walked over to his vehicle and grabbed a gray zipped hoodie with a frayed hem, then went to the passenger side of her car.
“That’s your coat?”
“Yep.” He slipped it on, and she noticed the white hood ties hung unevenly. Then he opened the car door and got inside.
She shook her head and sat behind the wheel. She had her work cut out for her.
Chapter 13
“I don’t know about this, Harper.” Rusty sat down in the chair at Artie’s Barbershop and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
“You said you trusted me.”
“I didn’t know that meant shaving all my hair off.”
She stood on one side of him, Artie on the other. Rusty was his last customer of the day, and other than the three of them, the shop was empty. Good thing, too, because Rusty reckoned he and Harper were about to get into their first argument.
“Artie’s not going to shave off your hair,” Harper said, looking at Rusty’s reflection in the mirror. Then she glanced at Artie. “You’re not, right? Just a low taper with a side comb-over.”
“A low what with a what?” Rusty asked.
“I’m cuttin’ your hair,” Artie said. “That’s all you need to know.”
Harper sat down in the empty barber chair next to him and thumbed through a hairstyle magazine while Artie went to work. Clumps of hair dropped to the floor as he ran his razor over Rusty’s head. “When was the last time you had a haircut?” Artie asked. “I haven’t seen you here in a long time.”
“Can’t remember. Been meanin’ to get one, though.”
Artie moved the razor away from Rusty and leaned forward. “You’re not the first guy who was dragged here by his girlfriend,” he said in a low voice.
“She’s not—”
But Artie was already back at work. Rusty glanced at Harper, but she was still reading the magazine. Fortunately she hadn’t heard what Artie said. His nerves were already jangled enough, and he didn’t need a know-it-all barber making things worse.
The day had started out so well, despite not catching anything. Harper had been resistant to his no-work-no-cell rule, but once she started to relax, he couldn’t remember when he’d had a better time fishing. Truth was the fish had been biting, but he’d been so distracted by her he’d let them get away. Seeing the small smile on her gorgeous face as she enjoyed the sunshine was better than catching a sunfish or three any day.
Then she mentioned the makeover—and his insecurities reared up. It was nice of her to say that the women at the auction would want to bid on him, but he knew better. Some would for sure because they wanted to support the ALS charity. But there was no way a bidding war would happen, not over him. That wasn’t realistic.
Still, he’d reluctantly agreed to the makeover, mostly so he could spend more time with Harper. Then she’d surprised him by wanting to go back home and change when she didn’t need to. She already looked great. No, more than great. She was beautiful.
Then he’d seen something in her eyes he was more than a little familiar with. Self-doubt—a term he’d never expected to associate with Harper Wilson. But all he’d come up with in reply was, “You look fine.” Fine. Talk about underwhelming.
On the way to her house, he’d hemmed and hawed about giving her a more appropriate compliment, but the moment had passed, and he didn’t want to make things awkward between them. He was already feeling enough awkwardness for both of them.
After he dropped her off, his apprehension returned. Should he invite her inside when she came over or just meet her in the driveway as she pulled up? If he did decide to invite her in, did he have time to clean up the house? Should he offer her a drink? A snack? He’d whipped into the grocery-store parking lot and picked up the coffee cake and powdered iced tea, then hurried back home. He was overthinking things, but he couldn’t help it. He ran inside, barely glancing at Senior, who was sitting in his old recliner in the living room, and took a shower. Forty-five minutes and three clothing changes later, he was ready for Harper’s arrival.
Two-thirty came and went. When three rolled around, he started to pace. Was she standing him up? Why would she, when giving him a makeover was her idea? And it wasn’t like this was a date, anyway. He was the one who was making more of the situation than he should. He’d eventually talked himself back to the real world, but he’d also sweated through his shirt. After shower number two, he saw that she’d called and apologized for being late. Then he’d felt like an idiot. All that fretting for nothing.
“There you go.” Artie brushed the hair off Rusty’s neck. “A brand-new you.”
He stared in the mirror. The hair on the sides was cut close to his scalp, the bangs and crown were left longer. He kind of liked the style. Even better, his head felt lighter and cooler. Harper knew what she was doing—this was a fine haircut.
“If you use some of this pomade,” Artie said, pointing to a flat can on the counter in front of the mirror, “you can slick the top to either side or to the back.” He turned the barber chair toward Harper. “What do you think, young lady?”
She glanced up from the magazine, then took a long look, her eyes widening. She smiled. “Perfect.”
Her approval helped him relax. If she liked his haircut, he was good to go.
“Now, time to get rid of that beard,” Artie said.
“All of it?” Rusty asked.
“Every scraggly bit.”
His hand flew to his chin. “Long beards are in style,” he said.
“Neat beards are,” Harper said, lifting one eyebrow. “Not the ‘I got lost in the mountains for ten years’ look.”
“That bad, huh?”
Both Harper and Artie nodded. Rusty settled back in his chair. Nothing left to do but give in.
It didn’t take long for Artie to work his barber magic on Rusty’s beard, and soon he was clean-shaven. “Your skin’s a little dry, which is normal when you shave off a beard as long as yours. Use some lotion for a few days, and it will be fine.”
Rusty nodded as Artie turned him in the chair to face Harper again. “How does it look?” Rusty asked.
Harper’s mouth dropped open. “I . . . I . . .”
“Uh-oh.” He frowned. She’d had a better reaction to his haircut. He’d actually thought the shave was the bigger improvement. Her expression said otherwise. “Guess I should have left the beard,” he muttered.
She got up and dropped the magazine in the chair. She looked at his face, one side first, then the other. “Wow.”
“A good wow, or a—”
“Good.” She took a step back. “Very good.”
An unexpected thrill raced down his spine. For a split second he enjoyed the feeling, then came back to his senses. He didn’t need to turn to mush over a simple compliment.
“Another satisfied couple.” Artie draped the black cape over the small counter in front of the mirror.
“You mean ‘customer,’” Rusty quickly corrected.
Harper turned away. “We’re not a couple, Artie.”
“Oh. My mistake.” He chuckled. “Not the first time I’ve made that one either.”
Rusty stood and fished his wallet out of his back pocket, glad his emotions were set back to rights. Maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on himself. Who wouldn’t appreciate a beautiful woman’s compliment? Appreciation, that’s all he’d felt. Nothing more than that.
“Hey, I’m paying for this,” Harper said.
“Why would you do that?”
“It was my idea.”
He shook his head. “I needed a haircut anyway. You just got me off my duff to get one.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “But you’re doing me a favor by being in the auction.”
“That’s not a favor. I’m glad to help out a good cause.”
“I’m still paying.”
He put his hands on his hips. “No, you’re not.”
“Are you sure you two aren’t a couple?”
They both looked at Artie, who had started laughing. “I don’t care who pays,” he continued. “It’s past closing time, so make a decision already.”
Rusty quickly opened his wallet and handed him a credit card before Harper could get her purse. “Add a 30 percent tip to that,” he said. “You earned it.”
“Thanks.” Artie headed to the cash register at the front of the shop.
“Hmmph,” Harper said.
Rusty turned around. “Hmmph,” he repeated, then smiled.
Harper’s eyes met his, their color changing from light blue to almost cobalt. Another shiver went through him.
“Here’s your receipt.” Artie tapped Rusty on the shoulder. “Next time don’t wait so long.”
“I won’t.” He took the slip of paper and crammed it into his pocket.
“Y’all have a good night.”
“You too,” Harper said, and they left the barber shop.
The cool fall air rushed against Rusty’s short, cropped hair and naked face. “Now that feels nice,” he said as they went to her car.
Harper walked to the driver’s side. Before they left she’d told him not to bother opening her doors since they would be getting in and out of the car a lot. That had piqued his interest. Getting a haircut and beard shave had never crossed his mind, though.
“Gotta admit, I’m glad to finally get this taken care of. Kinda feel like a new man now.”
“You’re going to be a new man, all right.”
