Down and Dirty_A Bad Boy Romantic Suspense_Shameless Southern Nights

by J. H. Croix

  “There’s no one special in my life, except for Austin. He’s the only guy I need around. Not to mention, it’s not like men are lining up for any single mothers.”

  She clucked disapprovingly and looked toward the door when the bell jingled as the first client of the day arrived. “I hear you, but Austin doesn’t have to be the only man in your life. Who knows? Maybe now that you’re back home, you’ll find love.” She spun away, calling out to her customer. “Darla, honey, why don’t you come sit down right over here?”

  Sarah gestured Darla toward her station, chatting a mile a minute about everything and nothing at the same time. I watched them as I quickly finished my coffee, half listening to the town gossip about people I no longer knew and some I’d never know, my mind churning over Sarah’s words.

  It was inevitable that people were going to push me to start dating again. I knew that. I also knew that while they meant well, love was so far down on my list of priorities, I didn’t even think about it.

  Chapter Seven

  Jeremy

  Waylon looked up when I entered Daisy’s Coffee & Go before work on Wednesday, raising his hand in a friendly wave. Waylon had been a freshman when I was a senior, and he didn’t appear to have aged a day since. Floppy hair still hung down to his ears and his brown eyes still shone earnestly. He’d managed to skate past life’s disappointments thus far, unlike myself.

  Waylon’s family ran Daisy’s Coffee & Go, and he seemed more than content to ease through his days cracking jokes and serving coffee. The drive through line was long with cars right now. Glancing around, I noted a few customers seated at the small round tables scattered throughout the coffee shop. The space was bright and cheerful with daisies painted here and there on the walls and sunlight falling through the windows.

  “Hey Jeremy. How’s it hanging?” Waylon asked as I reached the counter at the back.

  “A little to the left,” I replied, rolling my shoulder as I grinned. Waylon caught the move and the corners of his mouth turned down in sympathy.

  “That old shoulder giving you a little trouble today, man?” he asked, grabbing a takeout mug to start readying my usual order.

  “Just a little.” The truth was that I’d hurt my shoulder, again, doing something yesterday. The thing was so damn fragile nowadays that one wrong move had me icing it for a few days at a time. When I was younger, like so many other guys, I’d thought I was invincible. I played hard and I never stopped to think that there might be long-term consequences, or an injury that might take me out of the game completely.

  Fast forward to my final game senior year and the impossible had happened, I blew out my shoulder during the game and after several excruciating days that turned into weeks of uncertainty, I got the news that it would never recover, at least not enough for me to ride a scholarship through college and strive for football glory and eventually a pro career.

  Just like that, my football career ended, and my dream went up in smoke. I tried not to wallow in it, no use crying over spilled milk and all, but it was hard when so many people brought it up. There were things I loved about being in a small town, but those things felt turned upside down when my life skidded sideways.

  Going from the town’s football star to not a star of any kind had made the spotlight feel too bright. I’d preferred to lick my wounds in private, but everywhere I turned, there were well-meaning people who couldn’t resist commenting. On the heels of that, watching my revered father, once the town’s beloved mayor, get handcuffed after being convicted of bribery connected political favors had felt like even more of a fall from grace, not just for me, but for our entire family.

  Waylon pressed some buttons on the fancy ass machine behind the counter and inserted my cup, waiting for the thing to do its job. He knew what I liked, so he didn’t even bother to ask. The shop was still quiet inside, but I knew they’d start getting busy soon. It was right on Main Street and a favorite before work spot.

  I only ever went there if I was ready for work early, as I hated the crowds during the peak time. There were only a few customers scattered about, mostly sipping their coffees behind their newspapers or with their noses buried deep in their phones.

  Once he was satisfied that my order was on the go, Waylon turned to me, darted his eyes around to make sure no one was eavesdropping and lowered his voice. “You know what helps for the pain? A little of the green stuff.”

  He mimed taking a drag of a joint, and I shook my head at him. He was such an idiot sometimes, but there was no need to point that out to him. “You remember that one of my brothers is a cop and the other is the DA, right? I’m probably the last person you should be offering weed to.”

  Waylon didn’t miss a beat and simply shrugged. He turned to the machine to retrieve my cup and snapped the lid on. “Yeah, I remember. I was just trying to help man. Plus, it’s legal in plenty of places now. Georgia will catch up one day.”

  I chuckled, if only because Waylon’s carefree attitude was amusing sometimes. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

  After paying for my coffee, I left for work. When I arrived at the yard, a couple of the teams were already loading up to go to their respective sites, while other guys were still enjoying their coffee and talking in low tones in the break room.

  Crossing to Doc’s office after muttering a few hellos, I knocked and let myself in when he called out for to me enter. He rose from his tattered office chair when I got inside, walking to my side of his desk and leaning against it as he crossed his arms. “How you doing, Jeremy?”

  “All good.”

  Doc nodded, giving me a look and not moving from his spot on his desk. He looked as if he had something on his mind. Just as I began to wonder what, he spoke.

  “I’m taking the rest of the week off,” he announced, watching carefully for my reaction. “You going to be okay by yourself here?”

  I’d have to make it work, so I would. “Sure, I think we’ve got everything under control,” I replied, although I couldn’t help but wonder why he was taking time off. Doc was rarely one to take even a day off, much less almost a week. Yet, he was a private man, so I figured I’d have to wait and learn the reasons why later.

  I hadn’t wanted to believe that Doc was seriously thinking about stepping down and retiring, but I considered he might be making concrete moves in that direction. He was ready to leave, and given his comments recently, he thought I was ready to take over. Times were definitely changing.

  “Good. You’re going to have to go look at the salon alone today. I’ve already told Sarah I won’t be there. I trust you’ll make the right decisions on the planning.”

  It felt like Doc was testing me, and I was up to the challenge. I didn’t want to take over from him. It’d never been my business or my dream, but someone had to step up and it was going to have to be me when the time came. Doc had no children and I knew he didn’t want to get rid of the company. He’d said he’d worked too hard to build it up to just sell it off.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll go have a look around and chat with her. We’ll make it work.”

  I was surprised by his decision to take a week off with no notice and to leave everything to me with no planning.

  “Yes, you will. She’s going to need a guiding hand, be good to her.”

  “I will.” I liked Sarah. She was a bit of a mother hen around town, and I respected her for that. She was always there for anyone in need, and she was one of the few who weren’t always asking about my dad or my injury. As a result, she was also one of the few that I didn’t mind talking to so much, even if she could be a little ditsy.

  “Go get to it then,” Doc told me, giving me a slap on the back. “I’ll see you next week, call me if you run into any trouble.”

  “I hope that won’t be necessary.”

  He laughed and held the door for me. “I hope so too. Send my regards to the girls at the salon.”

  “Will do.” I lifted my fingers to my forehead in a quick salute
and left his office. I spent the rest of the morning looking over the schedule for the next week, knowing I was going to have to shuffle some things around since Doc wouldn’t be here. After checking in with the teams out on different sites and those still in the yard, I glanced at my watch and realized it was time to go.

  The salon was only a short drive away. Pulling into the parking lot, I found Sarah out on the sidewalk at some tables by the entrance when I arrived. She was chatting with a young woman who looked like she was wearing a homemade alien hat. The foil on her head reflected in the sunlight, nearly blinding me. Shielding my eyes and shaking my head, I hopped out of the truck and headed over to the women.

  No doubt this job would provide the crew with some entertainment, such as the alien hat that I could only assume served an actual purpose related to hair.

  Growing up with four brothers and with my mother having passed away years ago, the ways of women when it came to places like hair salons was beyond me. I’d also managed to steer clear of any committed relationships, so I’d been safely oblivious in this respect.

  My relationships were generally limited to a few nights of casual fun. Nothing that could’ve prepared me for the loud hum of hairdryers and laughter filtering out of the salon and spilling onto the street.

  Mercifully, Sarah spotted me when I got out of my truck and came over to meet me. The client she’d been talking with returned her focus to her coffee and magazine.

  Sarah greeted me with a warm smile that instantly set me at ease. She had that way about her. “Jeremy Lovett, the man who’s going to transform my humble space into even more. Welcome honey, can I get you some tea?”

  You couldn’t go anywhere in Georgia for more than a few minutes without being offered tea. Tea around here meant iced tea, heavily doused with sugar. Some even swore by ‘sun’ tea. If you’re wondering, that’s tea made by filling a clear glass jar with cold water, adding the tea bags and letting it steep by leaving it out in the sun for a few hours. Whether that was truly superior to tea made by boiling water wasn’t something I cared to debate, but plenty did.

  “I’m fine, thanks. Let’s go see what part of your shop I’ll be tearing up before we get to the tea.”

  She laughed and swatted my arm, but it didn’t feel intrusive or flirty when she did it. It just felt natural.

  “Sometimes things have to be destroyed to make space for better things,” she replied with a wink, linking her arm with mine and leading me into the shop. “Out with the old and in with the new, I say.”

  “Ladies,” Sarah announced above the humdrum when we stepped into the salon. It sounded like there were twenty vacuum cleaners going in there, but when the women turned to face us I realized they were just hairdryers.

  Paired with the voices of the customers who were trying to chat with their stylists above the noise of the equipment, it was absolute chaos. Sarah managed to get their attention and rested her hand on my bicep. “Allow me to present Mr. Jeremy Lovett. Dear Jeremy here is going to be in and out over the next few weeks ‘cause he’s going to be seeing to those renovations I told y’all about in the back. Don’t ogle him openly, we wouldn’t want to scare him away.”

  I inwardly groaned at her words, but I was distracted by the last hair stylist who’d turned to face us when we entered. Clear green eyes met mine, staring out at the world between long, thick lashes that framed her slightly round eyes. She was a slip of a woman with what looked to be banging body, though it was hidden by a relatively modest wine red dress.

  Her short black hair was cut in a messy style that ended with little wisps below her ears. A bold red streak shot through the dark locks, a shade brighter than her dress. Chunky black jewelry adorned her wrists, and her face was free of makeup.

  She was beautiful, so refreshing and mesmerizing it was difficult to tear my eyes away from her. In the back of my mind, it also registered that she looked vaguely familiar. I felt as I knew her, I just didn’t know where from. Surely though, if I’d met her before I wouldn’t have forgotten her, not someone who looked like her.

  One look at her was like a jolt to my system. My eyes drank her in, and it felt as if a flame licked through the air between us. The hum of hair dyers, the voices around us and all eyes turned my way didn’t shift my focus. It wasn’t until Sarah said something that I snapped my eyes free.

  Chapter Eight

  Marie

  My scissors glided through Mariah’s hair. She was my first client here and plunked down in the chair, announcing she needed an entirely new look. Her dark tresses fell to the floor in lock after long lock. She had lovely, silky dark hair, and it piled around the chair on the floor as I cut it away.

  She’d also told me just about everything else that had ever happened in her life so far, all in less than an hour. Hair stylists were often referred to as the women’s equivalent of a bartender—we heard it all and then some.

  I didn’t mind my clients talking. Not even when my ears were at risk of falling off from the amount this woman was talking.

  “And you’d never believe what he told me then,” Mariah was saying. I was about to respond when the doorbell jingled and Sarah came back into the shop. Expecting her to be returning with the client she’d been chatting with outside, I did a double take when I realized that the client wasn’t with her.

  Instead, the person who followed her through the door was Jeremy Lovett. Jeremy-freaking-Lovett. I could hardly believe it. Blinking rapidly, I watched him in the reflection of my big mirror. I tried to shake off the sudden buzzing in my ears and the flush blooming through my entire body.

  Back in high school, Jeremy was smoking hot. He was one of those guys that all the girls wanted and all the guys wanted to be. Along with his four brothers, they used to rule our school with iron fists and parties that, if you didn’t score an invite, you lied about it.

  Jeremy was a senior when I was a sophomore, so I didn’t really know him all that well, but I’d crushed on him from afar—me and probably every other girl in school.

  If he’d been smoking hot then, he was downright devastating now. His chiseled features were stronger now, having lost the soft edges of youth. His body was all coiled strength—even from across the room, he exuded power and a nonchalant masculinity. There was a time that I’d dreamed of running my fingers through his shaggy black hair, of staring deep into his hazel eyes in the moment before his muscular arms would cage me with my back against my locker, his mouth sealing over mine. Oh yes. I’d crushed on him all kinds of crazy.

  It hadn’t been a possibility then, what with all those other girls chasing him, and it sure as hell wasn’t a possibility now with my situation being what it was. In another life though. A girl could always dream.

  His frame was as imposing as ever. Six foot four, if I remembered his stats from back then correctly, of pure muscle that my fingers still itched to explore. The man was delicious, positively lickable.

  For someone else, I reminded myself. The chatter in the salon had died down as Sarah introduced Jeremy and told us that he was the one who was going to be doing the renovations.

  Oh hell. He was going to be around on a regular basis for a while? I was going to have to make a note to bring a fan to work with me once he started.

  Mental images of him shirtless, sweat dripping down his ripped torso as he… Oh geez, I couldn’t allow myself to go there. I was at work, for heaven’s sake. This was hardly the time or the place for naughty little fantasies.

  Get a grip, Marie! Oh, and a clue while we’re at it. Jeremy Lovett was out of your league back then, and he’s most definitely out of your league now.

  I glanced around to see if anyone had noticed the gutter my mind was trying to crawl into, but every eye in the shop was trained on the gorgeous hunk of man who’d invaded our space. As I made a quick sweep of the room, my eyes caught on Jeremy’s for just a second before I pulled them away again.

  Is he staring at me? It sure looked, and felt, like he was. Awareness prickled a
long the surface of my skin, sending a hot shiver through me, goose bumps chasing down my arms. As if his eyes were a magnet for mine, my gaze swung back. Oh yes. He was definitely looking at me. Oh. My. God. I could barely breathe. For a few seconds, it felt as if we were alone.

  Hot all over, butterflies spun wild in my belly. If looks could melt, I’d have been a puddle just then. Sarah’s voice nudged at my awareness when she said something to someone—hell if I knew who. Jeremy finally tore his eyes away. I forced myself to turn away and focused on Mariah’s hair.

  As desperately as I wanted to look his way again, I tried to keep my focus on the task at hand. I was here to cut hair, not swoon over some guy. Afraid that I’d come off as a gaping idiot, I only let myself sneak a few side glances at him.

  It seemed impossible, given his history, but I could’ve sworn he was uncomfortable with all those women staring at him. That couldn’t be though. A man like him had to be used to the attention.

  “Now ladies,” Sarah said. “I’m going to show Jeremy here to the back. “Don’t stare too hard and if you do, please don’t let him catch you in the act. We don’t want him too uncomfortable to come back.”

  Giggles permeated the air at her words. That was classic Sarah. She loved to tease, but it was always lighthearted. Sarah threw a wink my way as she led Jeremy past the tarp and to the back room where he’d be working. I waited for him to react, a blush, a wave, any kind of acknowledgment of what Sarah had said. But there was nothing. His expression was as stoic as it had been since he’d walked inside.

  Most eyes in the room heeded Sarah’s advice, making sure that he didn’t see them staring when they walked away. But they all stared. I couldn’t judge though, I snuck a peek myself. It was impossible to resist the temptation.

  Mariah turned in her chair, facing the mirror again as she gave my scissors a pointed look, a clear indication that she was ready for us to keep going with her hair now that all the excitement was done. I’d only just finished cutting her hair when Jeremy and Sarah returned.