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Sapphire Falls: Going Hearts Over Heels (Kindle Worlds Novella) (My Country Heart Book 3)

Page 11

by Rachelle Ayala


  Dang. That was her answer. She would rather cut hair than spend time with him.

  “That’s right. You have your winning bid for my brother. How’s he doing?” Marsh’s belly roiled with newfound jealousy.

  “I haven’t spoken to him.” Ginger huffed. “Did you really expect me to go on a date with him?”

  “You bid on him.”

  “Because you offered yourself to that Yankees lady. I hope you’re having a swell time with her.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he was having a ball with Yvonne, that she was the quintessential city girl—a New Yorker that out New Yorked anyone.

  But that would have been a lie.

  His heart was sodden and heavy, and his arms ached to hold Ginger.

  “I miss you.” The words slipped from his mouth. “I’m here in your room, lying on your bed, looking at your smiley faces pasted on the ceiling above your bed. I wish you were here.”

  “Oh … I’m sorry the place is so dingy and the décor is childish.”

  Marsh put his hand over his eyes. Instead of responding to the fact that he missed her, she apologized for the state of her apartment.

  If only he could reach through the phone and touch her and know how she felt about him. He’d already asked her to come to him, but he couldn’t force her.

  “It’s okay. I like being here with your things. It makes me feel like you’re still a part of me.” There, he’d stuck out his neck as far as he could before getting it lopped off.

  “I’m glad, Marsh. I’m really glad. Now, are you going to go out and have some fun? I think you’ll enjoy the sights I suggested. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  She sounded like a travel advisor. Impersonal.

  Marsh nodded to himself, getting the picture.

  He was the fool who tried to make more out of their relationship than it was. She hadn’t given him any encouragement outside of bed, which didn’t count, and therefore he needed to man up and stop moping around.

  Ginger was having a great time in Sapphire Falls without him, and he wasn’t going to blow his well-deserved vacation feeling sad.

  “Okay, I will,” he said. “I’ll text you some pictures. Let me know if you change your mind about the barn. Maybe my brother can show you around the farm.”

  “Sure, Marsh. We both should get as much out of our vacations as we can.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  After that strange phone call with Marsh, Ginger decided to get busy. He was confusing her, talking about missing her and almost acting like they were a couple.

  He was even getting creepy about being among her things. He could at this very moment, be digging through her underwear drawer and, gasp, sniffing them.

  The thought drew chills of delight through her body, and she allowed herself a brief moment of fantasy—how turned on Marsh would get while playing with her nighties, bras, and panties—before pulling herself together.

  She had come to Sapphire Falls because she needed a stress break—a vacation, and a place to regroup after she lost her job.

  An added bonus was the country boys, and Marsh had given her that experience in spades. After spending two days and two nights with him, she now felt like Sapphire Falls was a part of her. She wasn’t quite sure if she was a part of the town yet, but the job offer from Ellen was like manna from heaven—an unexpected boon.

  For once she had options, and she needed to explore them thoroughly before deciding on the next step of her life. Though, having Marsh lurk around in the back of her mind was both troubling and enticing.

  After showering and getting dressed, Ginger asked her sister to drop her off at the beauty salon. She stepped in, feeling like the new girl at school.

  All activity stopped and everyone looked over at her. A large group of senior citizens sat in the waiting area.

  Ellen set down her shears and walked up to Ginger. “Glad you could come. As you can see, the seniors have started to claim their cuts.”

  She turned to the customers. “This is Ginger Myers, my newest stylist. She’ll be happy to help you. Let’s give her a warm welcome.”

  Ellen started by enveloping Ginger into her arms and giving her a real tight hug. Everyone else swarmed her next and introduced themselves.

  “I’m Conrad, and this is Frank, Thomas, and Albert,” one of the older men said. “We’re so glad to have you here. You’ll love our town and make yourself a wonderful home.”

  “I’m Kathy Bennett, and my boys loved their haircuts,” a stately woman with bright blue eyes said. “You and Marsh must come to my place for German Chocolate Cake, that is, when you’re ready.”

  Everyone laughed and some of the men elbowed each other as if taking bets. If this was an inside joke, it passed right over Ginger’s head.

  “Delaney Bennett.” A no-nonsense looking young woman with long brown hair gave her a hug. “I have four boys, just hankering for that fat Mohawk you gave Marsh.”

  “Fat Mohawk?” Ginger suppressed a chuckle. “It’s a Pompadour Mohawk, tapered toward the back with a high fade. But surely they’d all want individual styles.”

  “That they do.” Delaney wrinkled her nose knowingly. “They used to be satisfied with buzz cuts.”

  “So true,” Kathy Bennett said. “You’ve ruined it for all the mothers’ kitchen haircuts.”

  “Guess I’m putting my bowl away,” another woman said, and everyone laughed. “Bowls are for baking from now on.”

  The party atmosphere continued through the day, and the seniors kept her busy with their wisecracks and stories. It seemed they never got tired of telling the same ones, because Albert told a story of a fish that nearly sank his rowboat, and then Frank repeated it from his point of view, and Thomas contradicted him, saying the fish wasn’t the problem, it was the axe he used to chop off the fish’s head.

  Listening to these old friends josh each other and snipping hair had a way of soothing her soul. Ginger wondered if Marsh and his brothers would someday be like these older men, hanging around and making newcomers feel welcomed.

  She could picture him growing older here, first as a young father with his son over his shoulder, dancing with his daughter at a father-daughter dance, taking his kids trick or treating, and ho, ho, ho-ing with a fake Santa beard to delight his family.

  This was his home and his people, and being around them made her ache and wonder if she would ever fit in. She wasn’t polite and sweet like the women in the town, and when she got angry, she could curse a mean streak.

  But right now, she was giving joy to the town with her free haircuts and learning more about them than she ever thought.

  Marsh, meanwhile, was enjoying himself in New York, doing what he always wanted. As absurd as it sounded, she would wait for him here in Sapphire Falls. New York wasn’t something she could stomach at the moment.

  As if reading her mind, the woman whose hair she was cutting, Mrs. Barnes, asked. “Are you going to be staying here with us or going back to New York City? Ellen says you’re temporary.”

  “I’m considering it,” she answered honestly, as memories of her last night in New York flashed in her mind’s eye.

  It had been an ordinary gray and dreary evening. The snow had turned into treacherous ice on the sidewalks, and she had been distracted by a text message on her phone.

  Stars had exploded in her head, and she’d tasted her teeth hitting the sidewalk.

  The smell of the mugger, like blood and smoke and bad breath, choked her. Raw fear shot through her—fear that paralyzed her and seized and shook her limbs.

  One moment, she was walking down the street, intent on catching a cab for the airport. She was confident, brash, a New Yorker through and through. She had a mouth full of snark and a tough ass full of sass.

  Bam. She was knocked down.

  She hadn’t even seen it coming.

  It was over before it even started, and she’d picked herself up, gingerly feeling her head, checking for broken b
ones. No one helped her. No one called for help.

  No one cared.

  The mugger had taken her decoy purse and ripped off her four-leaf clover necklace. He’d run off, leaving her roller bag, so truly she hadn’t lost anything.

  Except her sense of safety had been shattered.

  “Are you okay?” Someone shook her.

  Ginger’s eyes flew open, and she stared at the crowd of strange faces looking down at her. The eyes were concerned and the smiles genuine as they helped her up.

  “One minute, you were cutting my hair, and the next, you were on the floor.”

  “I must have had a spell.” Ginger touched the side of her head to keep from feeling dizzy.

  “You’ve been working too hard.” Ellen guided her to one of the empty barber chairs. “Have you had anything to eat? Why don’t I order a sandwich for you?”

  “Thanks. I forgot to eat today.” Ginger brushed hair off of her shirt. She turned to Mrs. Barnes. “I’m sorry. Let me finish your cut.”

  “It’s quite all right. You rest, let Ellen get you a sandwich, and we can get to know each other,” the woman said. “You were saying you’re going to stay with us permanently?”

  “I’m seriously thinking about it.” Ginger tried not to cringe at the thought of Marsh coming back and finding out she was invading his town. It would be awkward, but then, maybe she should suck it up and get used to the fact that sleeping casually with men meant running into them at inconvenient times and places.

  Only Marsh didn’t feel casual. Not to her.

  “That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Barnes said. “I’m sure Marsh would be happy to hear you’re staying.”

  Ginger didn’t answer. As charming as the town was, the inhabitants were way too nosy, and while it was interesting listening to them talk about each other, once the spotlight was trained on her, she got a squirmy feeling in her tummy, the same way she used to feel when going to the principal’s office.

  “If you ask me, you should have gone with him to New York for Valentine’s Day.” The lady at the next chair looked over, causing her hair dresser to swing around with the curling iron. “That boy told the entire town not to bid on those tickets because he wanted to go to the party with you.”

  “That’s true,” a man who was mostly bald and was getting his fringe trimmed said. “He spent his honeymoon money bidding on those tickets. I can’t see why you didn’t just give them to him, especially since he was going to ask you to the party.”

  “But he never asked me.” Ginger was astounded at how much these people knew about what Marsh was going to do.

  How come she was the only one in the dark?

  “That boy’s shy about girls,” the old man continued. “Been left at the altar, holding the honeymoon money.”

  “Now Ted, you stop gossiping about dear Marsh,” the woman at the next station said. “Let the young ones figure things out on their own.”

  Guilt swarmed Ginger as she thought about that envelope full of money Derek had given to her last night. Fifteen crisp one-hundred dollar bills.

  Marsh’s honeymoon money, spent on tickets he would use to take another woman to the party, only because he had been too chicken to ask her.

  But then again, she hadn’t given him any encouragement because of those Dr. T rules to play hard to get.

  Why had she been so stupid as to follow a set of rules when her gut told her to show Marsh some love?

  “I have to go,” Ginger excused herself. “There’s something I have to do. It’s either now or never.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Marsh took the subway from the Bronx into Manhattan. Ginger’s guide was thoughtful and filled with commentary. It almost felt like she was there with him. Almost.

  He visited Chinatown and had a late lunch at a dim sum place, walked through Wall Street and took a selfie in front of the charging bull statue.

  He prayed at the 9/11 Memorial and pictured the ghost of the Twin Towers standing over the site, the way it used to be in the encyclopedia he had as a child.

  He went on a tour through Radio City and took a picture with a Rockette, and he viewed the sunset from the top of the Empire State Building.

  After dark, he met up with Ginger’s friends, Evan and Slade, at a bar in midtown Manhattan. The place was rocking, even on a Sunday night with throngs of women wearing heavy makeup, revealing outfits, and sky-high heels.

  “Hey, country boy,” Evan called out as soon as Marsh walked through the door.

  “How’d you pick me out?” Marsh recognized Evan from the picture Ginger had forwarded.

  Both of them had a surplus of tattoos and piercings. Evan’s hair was spiked and dyed silver, while Slade had shaved lightning bolts cut into his short cropped pin curls.

  “You look country,” Slade said, giving him a brother’s handshake. “Ginger said to take good care of you.”

  “You tight with her?” Evan asked. “Or is she okay if we show you a real good time?”

  “She’s a good friend,” Marsh said. “I’m sure she wants me to have a good time.”

  “Including strip clubs?” Slade raised an eyebrow. “Has she got you that deep in the friend zone?”

  “Afraid so.” Marsh shrugged and looked around the bar. Everyone there was hipper than him, and he had to admit his blue and red checked shirt and jeans made him stand out like a country hick.

  “Let’s knock back a few shots and head over to the Pink Kitty.” Evan signaled to the bartender.

  Marsh’s phone buzzed with another incoming text message. It was Yvonne, so he ignored it.

  He hadn’t heard from Ginger, but he figured he should text a picture of himself with Evan and Slade and thank her for introducing him to her friends.

  “Guys, a selfie for the tourist?” He posed in front of the strings of fairy lights dangling like a waterfall over the glass tiled bar.

  “Two city cats and one with straw behind his ears,” Slade laughed out loud. “I got to text this to my mom. She’ll never believe who I picked up at the bar.”

  A group of hot chicks giggled and sashayed by, wearing barely legal cocktail dresses.

  “Hey, country boy, want to take a picture with us?”

  “Over here, take a picture with me.” Another group vied for his attention.

  “Looks like we should charge admission,” Evan said. He clapped his hands and hollered. “Ladies, ladies, line up on the right. Then hand me your cell phone and ATM card. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.”

  Everyone laughed and the girls giggled. Marsh posed with the ladies, putting his arms around one or the other. They paid him with shots and soon, he was telling everyone who asked how he pulled two calves the day before.

  The girls passed his phone around and texted his pictures of his dogs, cows, and the baby calves to themselves.

  As he was regaling the gathering crowd with a story about a fish so large, it almost sank his rowboat, an angry female pushed her way to his side.

  It was Yvonne and she was wearing a frown as wide as the East River instead of her Yankees cap.

  “How come you haven’t been answering my texts?” She jutted her bosom at him, and he had to back up to look her in the eye.

  “I got busy, and the date isn’t until Valentine’s.”

  “Fine, but I want those tickets right now.” She stuck her hand in his face. “Hand them over.”

  “Whoa, Nelly.” He patted his back pocket to make sure the tickets were still there. “Those are my tickets and I haven’t decided if you’re the one I want to take to the party.”

  “You’re taking me to the Billionaire Brothers Party because I bought you at the auction, you fool.” She stabbed a long black fingernail at him. “I paid good money.”

  “He’s got tickets to the Billionaire Brother’s Valentine’s Party?” the lady on his right exclaimed.

  “You mean the one in Times Square?” Slade muscled in between Marsh and Yvonne.

  “Yeah, I bought them fair and square and I’m not gi
ving them to her.” Marsh turned away from Yvonne.

  “Give them to me,” Evan said.

  “Or take Ginger,” Slade added.

  “Unfortunately, Ginger doesn’t want them. That’s how I ended up with them,” Marsh explained to Evan and Slade.

  “I’ll buy them from you.” The woman on his right tapped his shoulder.

  “How many do you have? Two?” A man across the bar yelled. “I’ll buy them for a hundred dollars each.”

  “A hundred fifty each.”

  “They’re mine because you’re my date.” Yvonne grabbed Marsh by the earlobe, irritating his freshly pierced ear.

  “Get your hands off him, lady.” Slade threw his big body between Marsh and Yvonne and twisted her hand so she let go. “You’re hot. I’ll give you that, but you’re too pushy.”

  “Oh, yeah? Not if you’re man enough.”

  Slade leaned down close and hissed. “I dare you to find out.”

  Firmly, he guided Yvonne away from Marsh as if he were a professional bodyguard, which he very well might be.

  Meanwhile, Evan waved his hands for attention and shouted, “Place your bids with me. Up for grabs are two tickets to the Billionaire Brother’s exclusive Valentine’s Day extravaganza. Do I hear four hundred for two?”

  “Four hundred,” came another shout from behind him.

  “Five.”

  “Six fifty.”

  “A thousand for both.”

  “Show us the tickets, so we know what we’re bidding on.”

  Evan picked them out of Marsh’s back pocket and held them up high. “They look real to me.”

  “Pass them around.”

  “No way, José.” Evan tucked the tickets under his armpit. “Let the bidding continue. Do I hear two grand?”

  “Wait, wait, hold it.” Marsh stood and waved everyone down. “I’m going to ask my girl back home if she wants to come to the party. I need a little quiet so I can call her.”

  No one seemed to pay attention as shouts of numbers grew larger and larger.

  Marsh took his phone back from one of the women who’d been scrolling through his farm photos and called Ginger.

 

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