***
Onstage, Jared's jaw tightened and the mandibular joint muscle there began to twitch, which it always did when he was tense. He consciously separated his clenched teeth and forced a smile. Three more songs remained in the first set and he needed to pay some attention to chords and key changes.
When he’d watched Lacey dancing with Hank, the song had been one he could have played in his sleep. Good thing, because he’d barely been aware when the song had ended.
At least his had been what he’d guessed was her first dance tonight. At least he had that.
Of course he’d noticed how Hank held her tightly—who wouldn’t?—carefully guiding her around the perimeter of the dance floor, skillfully avoiding the line dancers. Pretty much swept her off her feet, one could say.
Jared closed his eyes for an instant. He had no right even thinking about her. He was there to play a gig, nothing more. He should be oblivious to anyone—and everyone—in the club. Then why am I acting like some young kid ready to fight for the girl?
What he didn't need—or want—was the angelic distraction of this woman, someone he knew nothing about. Besides, she was not the type of woman he needed in his and Jamie's life right now…even if he was looking. She was too young, for one thing, probably a good ten or fifteen years younger than him.
So, with practiced discipline, Jared expelled from his mind the lingering thoughts of how soft she’d felt in his arms. It wouldn't be so easy to forget the flowery scent of her perfume that subtly mixed with her own unique feminine scent. The pleasurable assault on his senses had imprinted her fragrance in his subconscious memory, he knew. He sighed and shook his head.
The first set finally came to an end with another line dance favorite. The band gave a hoot and Luke leaned into the mike declaring the need to “pause for the cause.” Guitars were quickly secured into their stands and the stage cleared as the recorded music was turned up for any die-hard dancers.
Jared lagged behind the others, carefully placing the borrowed bass in a stand near the back wall, then flipped off his amplifier. Guardedly, he observed the path of each band member toward the bar.
Then he eyed the front door. He certainly needed some fresh air, and it wouldn't hurt his feelings any if he ran into Hank and Lacey.
Chapter Three
“So, tell me about yourself, pretty lady.”
Lacey held Hank's gaze, determined to continue the conversation. “Oh, not much to tell, really.” Though she suddenly found it difficult to take a deep breath, the alcohol in her drink helped give her at least the temporary feeling of assurance and fortitude. “I'm just ready to start having fun again, I guess. And the Rockin' Ranch came highly recommended.”
“Are you having fun yet?” Hank grinned, then moved a little closer, just enough to place his thigh against hers. “I think you and me could have a whole lot of fun together.” He clinked his glass against hers in a toast.
Sipping from the straw, Lacey said nothing for a moment. Why not? She should at least be friendly, especially if she intended to ask him if he’d participate in the bachelor auction. “Perhaps we could,” she replied, and as soon as the words left her lips she wished she’d said something else.
“That's my girl.” Hank reached his hand up to smooth an errant strand of hair off her cheek.
Lacey closed her eyes at the touch of Hank's fingers on her cheek, then felt his fingers quickly find their way behind her ear, moving to the nape of her neck. Deep in her womanly depths she felt a tiny flicker of life, finding she welcomed the hint of an internal quiver as he pulled her closer, waiting a little anxiously for the feel of his lips on hers, knowing a kiss was coming.
It was his mustache that she felt first—stiff, long hairs tickling her mouth. She waited. When his lips touched hers, they were dry, and the stale aroma of cigarettes was there. Almost with a feeling of being outside her body and observing the action, she responded shyly to his kiss, so foreign, so new. Breathless, she pulled away when she felt his tongue flick against her lips.
Hank kept his hand on her neck for a moment, then let his fingers drop to her shoulder and then to the middle of her upper arm.
Lacey caught her breath as she thought she felt Hank's thumb linger on the side of her breast as he lowered his hand down her bare arm to take her hand in his. Her head was swimming and beginning to throb a little. She pulled back from him, trying to find cooler, cleaner air to breathe, then lifted one hand to rub her left temple as the throbbing escalated into a sharp jab of pain.
“Sorry. I guess that drink was a little too strong for me,” she said.
“Well, here, let me take care of the rest of that one.” He poured the remains of her drink into his own empty glass. “And, unfortunately, dear lady, I have to return to the door. The late crowd is about to arrive. Catch you later, pretty lady.” Hank grinned and made his way back to his stool at the entrance.
***
Jared stood in the shadows, feeling like a peeping Tom. What am I doing? The intensity of the emotion he'd felt as he'd watched Hank kiss Lacey was unanticipated. His mouth had filled with the sour taste of anger and he had fought an almost overwhelming urge to rip Hank's head off. It made no sense. He knew nothing about the woman. Other than the fact that he was having crazy feelings about her, there was no real reason he should be upset that she had danced with some guy, kissed some guy. But the guy was a snake, he rationalized. And, no matter what, she deserved more.
At least Hank was gone now. He'd watched as he'd returned to his post at the door, already flirting with a fresh batch of college girls dressed in short shorts. You just stay there, buddy, and stay away from her.
Jared leaned against the rough wood wall, mystified, closing his eyes to try an erase the scene he’d witnessed. He'd never felt this protective about anyone but Jamie. His sweet, precious angel girl. His daughter meant everything to him, and he was not going to jeopardize their tranquility by getting involved with a woman, even one as lovely as this one. No, things were just fine the way they were.
When he opened his eyes again, the loveseat was empty and she was nowhere in sight. Good. Now, just walk away from this. Somehow, though, he knew it was going to be difficult. He felt frustrated at his lack of logic and his inappropriate action of spying on this beautiful stranger. And she was a stranger. He had no legitimate reason to even care about her.
Feeling a little flustered, Jared returned to the club. Inside, he got the attention of his favorite waitress and tipped an imaginary glass to his lips, his signal for a glass of ice water. They’d gotten to know each other a little more each time he’d played with the band.
Gloria gave him her usual thumbs up and was back from the bar in a couple of minutes with an extra large glass. “What's with you? You look like you just lost a hundred bucks on a bad bet.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “I'm fine, Gloria. Just a little cranky tonight, I guess.”
Gloria's expression revealed she didn't believe a word coming out of his mouth. “Well, if you need a listening ear, you know I'm here.” She handed him the glass and rested her tray on her hip, giving him a moment to reconsider.
The sound of a raucous high-pitched squeal made them both turn toward the bar. Luke was standing in the midst of a group of women, his arm around a young woman’s waist.
“Ah, Luke and his notorious jokes.” Gloria shook her head. “I hope he knows how serious that blond is about him. Kandy is in love, the silly thing.”
As Jared stared at the group, his gaze instantly fixed on his mystery woman, who stood nearby, on the fringe of the group of younger women. When she joined the others in the shared laughter, her long hair swung with each bob of her head. What did she do to make her hair so…so… What? Silky? Soft? Shimmery?
When he looked back at Gloria, he could tell by her raised eyebrow that she’d observed his stare. Might as well come clean. And besides, Gloria was a straight shooter. Maybe she knew something. Maybe something that would help him resist the unreas
onable pull he felt just being in the same room with the woman.
“What do you know about the woman in the black skirt behind Kandy?”
“Why?”
“Gloria, just tell me.” He turned away from her raised eyebrow, now accompanied by a grin.
“Well, she's single if that's what you mean,” she teased.
Jared groaned. “Forget it. It's not important.”
“Now wait, Jared, don't get your underwear in a bundle.”
He put up his free hand, palm facing out in surrender.
“C'mon, Jared, tell me. What's up?”
“Oh, I don't know. I met her—outside, before we started playing. I'm just curious.”
“Okay. First of all, she happens to be my stylist.” Gloria patted her hair with one hand and tipped her head back in an exaggerated model pose. “Her name’s Lacey, and she works with Kandy. Actually she's Kandy's boss. And she's really nice.”
“That's it?”
“Well, we talk about...everything...when she does my hair, but it’s like attorney/client privilege, ya know?”
“Right.”
Gloria stared back at him like she was trying to figure him out.
“Okay,” she continued, “I’ll tell you more only because I like you and trust you. I know she's getting over a bad time—her fiancé ran out on her because he got his secretary pregnant. He took his kid and left town. Pretty much broke her heart. By the way, even from the start we all thought the guy was a rat, but she couldn’t see it.”
And she's found another rat.
“She's a great gal, Jared. She's young, talented, has a successful career, and finally ready to have a little fun, I hope. I was glad to see her here tonight. She’s pretty much a workaholic, I think, but at least it looks like Kandy got her out for once.”
Figures. Another successful career woman. Exactly what I don't need. He'd certainly had more than enough of that type of woman. Never again.
“Thanks, Gloria.” Jared turned and stepped up on the stage. It was time to get back to work, and he was determined to just do his job, and keep his eyes off Hank and definitely off Lacey. At least Gloria had given him exactly what he needed so he could do just that.
***
Taking advantage of the extra noise of the water spraying as she rinsed the conditioner from her elderly client's hair, Lacey whispered to Kandy, “Did you ask him?”
Kandy had answered her cell phone a few minutes ago, taking a break out in the mall. Now she was back, folding and stacking clean towels on the shelf above the three pink shampoo bowls at the back of the salon.
Her eyes sparkled as she whispered dramatically, “He said yes, of course. As long as I have the winning bid.”
One cowboy down, one to go.
Lacey had left the Rockin’ Ranch without asking Hank if he would be the other cowboy in the bachelor auction, but telling him she’d be back on Saturday and had a question for him. There just hadn’t been a good time all night and when she’d switched to club soda and the alcohol had worn off, she’d lost her nerve. They’d danced a few more dances, but he’d had to man the entrance most of the evening. Then when one of Kandy’s friends had had too much to drink, Lacey had volunteered to drive her home. Now she would definitely have to either go back to the club and ask Hank, or hope a cowboy walked by in the mall…and the odds were definitely against that.
“What's Luke doing about missing a Saturday night at the club?” Lacey asked. Maybe Southern Comfort had a back-up singer just in case, like how Jared had stepped in to play bass. Though she’d mentally crossed her sweet dancing cowboy off her list of prospects, she couldn’t quite get him out of her mind, which had surprised her every time her thoughts had drifted to that first dance with him out on the deck.
“Some of the other guys in the band want to come watch so—after this Saturday—they switched with the Wednesday night band for the next two Saturdays. Cool, huh?”
“Anything else?”
“Details later,” Kandy whispered, “my three o'clock is here.”
Lacey smiled back at her and nodded. She turned off the water, then wrapped a fluffy mauve towel around Mrs. Allen's head, helping her sit up. She had a soft spot in her heart for her longtime shampoo-and-set customer, Mrs. Allen, who had followed her from beauty school to become one of her longtime, regular clients at the upscale mall salon.
“Lacey, your fingers are magic. I'd come in just for the shampoo and conditioner even if I didn't need my hair done.” Mrs. Allen sighed and rocked her towel-wrapped head back and forth, stretching her neck muscles.
“My pleasure, my dear.” She removed the shampoo cape and tossed it into the nearby hamper, then helped the septuagenarian to her feet. “Now come with me and let's make you gorgeous for that fiftieth wedding anniversary dinner tonight.”
Lacey loved her job, even more so now. She had such a good crew. Over time she had successfully weeded out all the egotistical and temperamental stylists from the staff, leaving a team of hard-working, pleasant co-workers. Becoming the manager had been the first step of her dream. Sure it meant longer hours, but she relished the feeling of accomplishment as the customer base increased enough to put her into a profit-sharing category for the salon chain. With continued success, she was sure she would be considered for regional management, which was her next goal.
If nothing else seemed right on track, her career certainly was.
After finishing Mrs. Allen, she sent her on her way with a complimentary travel-sized hairspray she could tuck into her purse in case she needed it on her dinner cruise that night. With all the chairs in the salon filled but her own, Lacey decided to hide out in the backroom and do a little reorganizing of supplies. No scheduled customers for the rest of the day meant she had the luxury of uninterrupted time to re-stock shelves and even help with the laundry. It was amazing how many towels they went through in a day.
After a few minutes of glorious quiet, the hum of the dryer masking any sounds coming from the salon, the door opened. Kandy poked her head inside the backroom, saying, “Lacey, you better come out and take care of this one.”
Lacey groaned as she watched Kandy disappear. Crossing her fingers, she hoped it wasn't yet another case of chlorine-green blond hair. She'd already had her share of time consuming color corrections—five this week alone—and the summer was only half over.
As she walked through the salon she saw an attractive middle-aged woman standing in the lobby, a young girl almost hidden behind her. Tiny hands reached around to the sides of the woman’s flowered skirt as she seemed to hug her legs for dear life.
As Lacey approached them both, she heard the unmistakable sound of the youngster's muffled sobs. She watched as the woman gently took the tiny hands, then crouched to the floor and drew the little one into her arms, comforting her with soft, soothing sounds.
“It's going to be fine, Jamaica. Trust your Auntie Jo. It's not so bad, really.”
“Hi, I'm Lacey.” Dropping to her knees to put herself at the child's level, she hoped to get a better look at her day's-end challenge.
“This is my niece, Jamaica. She's feeling a little shy and we had a bit of an adventure today. We decided our hair was too long to start kindergarten next month.” The woman made a scissors motion with her fingers, out of the view of the little girl.
Lacey nodded. “Let's have a look, okay?”
The little girl's honey-blond hair lay in long curls that reached to the middle of her back. When she straightened her head, she lifted it just enough for Lacey to see that she had created a dramatic asymmetrical look—her right side was at least six inches shorter than the left, and her bangs looked as though they'd been cut with pinking shears.
“I used to cut my own hair all the time. It was kind of fun, wasn't it?” Lacey asked.
The little girl pulled away from her aunt, then wiped her cheeks and as she bravely met her gaze, her blue eyes shining with fresh tears. “But it looks awful.”
“Naw, it's just
not done yet. But, you know what? I can finish it. I know how.” Lacey held her hand out to the girl, who cautiously put her tiny hand in hers. What a little angel. Already she could envision how she would cut the little girl's hair. A shorter style would make her look older, she thought, but with the natural curl that was there, she knew she would be able to maintain the cherubic appeal.
“Kandy, will you find my magic scissors, please, and we'll meet you over at my chair.”
The little girl's eyes widened and she looked at her aunt, waiting for permission.
“Go on, Jamaica, this nice lady will take care of you. I'll be right here.” Breathing a loud sigh, the woman rose to her feet and then sank into one of the plush chairs in the lobby, visibly relieved that someone else was in control of the disaster.
Lacey loved cutting children's hair. The feel was so different and the silky, immature hair had to be cut carefully, with the curl, if there was any. On the way to her station she grabbed a booster seat.
With Lacey’s help, the little girl climbed into the hydraulic chair and onto the booster seat, allowing the styling cape to be fastened around her neck.
“It's pretty in here. Pink's my favorite color,” Jamaica said as her head swiveled back and forth as she looked around the salon.
“I'm glad you like it. I like pink too.” Lacey had chosen a glittery hot pink cape in hopes of distracting the little girl and so far, it seemed to be working. “Now, where are those magic scissors?” She pretended to look around the salon and then nodded to Kandy, who ceremoniously brought a midnight blue velvet pouch and placed it on the nearby counter.
Lacey misted the little girl's hair with water and gently combed out the tangles. Then, with her expensive, tiny, gold European shears in hand, Lacey began to shorten and layer the hair, retaining a little length in the back and cutting the front and sides so the blond curls framed her face. She kept the chair facing the mirror so the little girl could watch, and talked soothingly to her throughout the process. Every few minutes she glanced at the woman waiting in the lobby, who smiled and nodded her blessing.
COWBOY FOR SALE--A Second-Chances Spicy Romance Page 4
