Unstoppable (A Country Roads Novel)

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Unstoppable (A Country Roads Novel) Page 9

by Richard, Shannon


  “I should get back,” she said to the group.

  “Okay,” Grace said. “You still coming tomorrow?”

  Grace and Jax were having a barbecue, and everyone was going over to their place. Which meant Bennett would most likely be there.

  Well, if she was going to get over him, there was no time like the present.

  “I’ll be there,” She nodded and headed back to the stand.

  “Good game?” Stu asked as Mel walked in the back door.

  “Yeah.” But she wasn’t too sure. She’d been watching Bennett the whole time and not really paying attention to anything else.

  Ugh, she still wanted him way too damn much.

  Stupid man.

  Mel grabbed a package of cups and stacked them by the drink machine. “How’s everything been back here?”

  “Busy,” Ashley Rodriguez said, as she spooned some cheese into a nacho container. “But not bad at all.”

  “Good. There are only two innings left, so were almost done for the day,” Mel said, as she moved on to refilling the napkins.

  Mel spent the next half hour helping everyone keep up with the line. The Stingrays won the game, 13–9. They served a small crowd of last-minute customers, and then they cleaned up. Mel went to the front to lock the windows over the counter. She pulled on the two wooden doors of the first window, but they wouldn’t close all the way. She struggled with them for a minute before big, strong hands came around her and pulled them into place.

  She didn’t need to turn around to know it was Bennett.

  His body wasn’t pressed up against hers, but he surrounded her nonetheless. His arms brushed hers, the tiny little hairs tickling her, and the warmth of his skin spread across her body like wildfire.

  “Thank you,” she said softly. She still did not turn to look at him.

  “No problem,” he said close to her ear. He did not pull back.

  She took out her keys to lock up but she fumbled with them, her hands unusually unsteady.

  “Here.” He took the keys from her.

  When he finished he took a step back. Mel turned and looked up into his face. He was still wearing his baseball cap, and even though his eyes were shadowed, they still showed a fair amount of heat. Heat that was directed at her.

  What the hell? “What are you doing, Bennett?” she asked.

  “With what?” he asked, reaching up and pushing a piece of hair back from her face.

  “Did you get the doors?” Stu called out.

  Mel looked over as Stu rounded the side of the building. He stopped short when he saw how close to each other she and Bennett were standing. Stu’s ears turned red as his eyes narrowed on Bennett. “Everything okay?” he asked, trying to look menacing. “Is this guy bothering you?”

  The tension bubbling up in Mel’s chest eased, and she had to stop herself from laughing. Was Stu trying to intimidate Bennett? Bennett’s forearms were thicker than Stu’s thighs. Bennett would crush the guy in a second. “Everything’s fine,” she said, stepping back from Bennett. “He was just helping me.”

  “Do you need help with the other one?” Bennett asked, pointing to the other open window above the counter.

  “I got it.” Stu pulled at the wooden doors but he struggled to close them. His feet slid in the dirt as he tried to get a grip.

  “You sure?” Bennett asked. Mel knew he was trying not to crack a smile.

  “Yes,” Stu said as he continued to strain against the door. “You’re help isn’t needed here.”

  “All right then.” Bennett gave Mel one last look, his mouth quirking up a bit. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Later,” she said, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

  As Mel watched him walk away, she wondered if there was any man more complicated than Bennett Hart.

  * * *

  So the little guy had a crush on Mel. Okay, no big deal. Bennett could handle a little competition, not that it was a competition or anything. No, this wasn’t going to be a problem. Not at all.

  Except the thought of Mel with any other man annoyed Bennett.

  No, it made him angry.

  He didn’t want her with anyone else. He wanted her with him. He’d gone over to talk to her. He needed to explain himself. Apologize for the other night. Tell her he’d made a mistake. That he’d been wrong to freak out.

  Simple enough, right?

  False. It wasn’t simple at all. He’d failed. Struck out.

  And she’d even given him an opening. She’d asked what he was doing. Yeah, he’d wanted her to clarify, but he was pretty sure she was talking about the two of them. Or what would be the two of them. If there ever was a chance for the two of them.

  Damn, he’d never been this confused in his life.

  But right before they’d been able to talk, the sweaty little man had come up and interrupted. And so Bennett had chickened out.

  But not because of the sweaty little man.

  It was because he had no freaking clue what he was doing with Mel. So it was about damn time he figured it out.

  * * *

  Mel finished up with everything in the stand, and when she got into her car it was the temperature of a small sauna. Her hair was in a ponytail, and the long strands were sticking to her sweaty neck. She hadn’t washed her hair that morning, knowing that after spending an afternoon in the humid heat she would just have to rewash it. Sometimes her hair was more trouble than it was worth.

  No. Scratch that. It was always more trouble than it was worth. So why continue to put up with it?

  As Mel asked herself that question she drove by the Honey Comb Hair Salon. Grace’s great aunt, Pinky Player, owned the place. Before Mel even realized what she was doing, she was turning into the parking lot. It was five till four, and the shop always closed early if they weren’t busy. Maybe Pinky would squeeze Mel in.

  Well, if she walked in that door she was going to be doing a lot of things on her list.

  “Here you go, Harper. I’m being impulsive,” Mel said under her breath as she got out of the car and headed up the steps of the building.

  Honey Comb definitely looked like its namesake. The outside was painted a bright yellow, while the shutters, front door, porch, and roof were a burned orange. The inside looked like bumblebees had decorated it. The walls were golden yellow, the floorboards and crown molding were black, and the floor was a pattern of pale yellow-and-black hexagon-shaped tiles.

  “Why if it isn’t Ms. Melanie O’Bryan,” a sweet Southern drawl greeted Mel.

  Pinky Player was more than a tad bit eccentric. She had overplucked eyebrows that she managed to make work with her bright eye shadow; she kept her strawberry blonde hair cut short, and she used some sort of product to spike it up all over her head. Mel wasn’t sure what it was, but she suspected it had to be something stronger than gel, because Pinky rode her motorcycle whenever she could, and her helmet never messed up her rocker look.

  “Hey Pinky.” Mel took a deep breath and tried to reassure herself of this decision.

  It was a little out of character for Mel to leave off the Mrs. when it came to an adult. She was raised good and proper in the South, after all. But Pinky had never wanted to be called anything but Pinky. Besides, she might’ve been in a happily committed relationship with one Reginald Reid for the past thirty-four years, but the two had never married. Not even after the births of their two kids.

  “You have time to give me a haircut?” Mel asked.

  Three stylists were still in the shop: Pinky, Janie Ashton, and Connie Applewood. Janie and Connie both had clients in their chairs, and Pinky was sweeping up around her station.

  “For you? Always.” Pinky smiled as she set her broom to the side. “Just the usual trim?” she asked as she grabbed a smock and headed over to the sink.

  “Actually, no,” Mel said following her.

  Pinky stopped and turned around, her thin eyebrows raising high on her forehead. Pinky had been the only person ever to cut Mel’s hair,
and for the past couple of years she’d been trying to convince Mel to let her do something different.

  “Really?” Pinky asked.

  “Yeah.” Mel nodded nervously. “Surprise me.”

  “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.” Pinky smiled and rubbed her hands together before she settled Mel in the chair.

  “You just made her day,” Connie said as she snipped Veronica Harold’s salt-and-pepper hair.

  Connie had been working at the shop since Pinky had opened it thirty years ago. She dyed her short hair a reddish brown and streaked it with blonde highlights. Veronica and her husband ran Farmer’s Pharmacy.

  “Yeah,” Veronica said. “Delta Forns was in here not ten minutes ago causing a fuss.”

  “Batty old woman,” Karen Wilson said. Karen was the high school music teacher.

  “Lean back, baby doll,” Pinky said, guiding Mel back and adjusting a towel under her neck.

  “And Bethelda Grimshaw was in here this morning,” Janie said.

  Janie was a couple of years younger then Mel. She’d gone up to Tallahassee and studied at the Aveda Institute before moving back to Mirabelle, and Pinky had given her a job. Janie was tiny and curvy, with sunshine-yellow blonde hair that she kept short and usually curled.

  “Oh God, that woman is horrible,” Veronica said.

  “I hate it when she’s in here.” Connie shook her head. “Because I have to watch every single thing that I say.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Pinky began to wet Mel’s hair. “And you know how none of us like to watch what we say.”

  “I just don’t talk,” Janie said. “I’d hate to slip up and be the focus of her next big story.”

  “Wouldn’t we all.” Mel closed her eyes as Pinky shampooed her hair and massaged her scalp. As the suds were rinsed away with warm water, Mel’s tension and fear washed away, too. She knew for a fact she was in good hands with Pinky, and she was excited for the change. So she just sat back and relaxed, and enjoyed the company of the women around her.

  Chapter Seven

  An Infuriating Man and an Infuriated Woman

  Mel was more than a little nervous and very excited as she pulled up in front of Jax and Grace’s house. She hadn’t gone anywhere after she’d left Pinky’s shop the day before, so no one outside of the shop had seen the new haircut. And boy, was it different.

  But Mel loved it.

  Pinky had cut off a good twelve inches, and Mel’s hair now lay at her shoulders. It had taken her about a half hour to blow-dry and style it that morning, which was a very nice change compared to the usual hour.

  Mel was the last to arrive, parking right behind Brendan’s black truck, which was right next to Bennett’s gray one. She got out of the car and walked around to the trunk to grab the groceries she’d brought. A bottle of ketchup had fallen out of one of the bags and rolled to the back of the trunk. Mel bent over and leaned into the space, but the bottle was in the far left corner and she had to really stretch to get to it. Leaning on her right arm made her wince.

  It was at this point that someone came up behind her. “Need help?”

  Of course Bennett had to come right when her ass was in the air. Mel jerked her head up and banged it hard on the roof of the trunk.

  “Shit,” she shrieked, as pain radiated through the back of her skull.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as his hands came up around her sides.

  Oh, why did he have to touch her?

  He helped her get out of the trunk, and she reached up and touched the back of her sore head.

  “Let me see.” He moved her hand and gently probed the back of her head. She flinched when his fingers found the spot.

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying to swat his hands away.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. One of his hands gripped her waist while the other didn’t move from her head. He took a step closer, bringing her body right up against his, and tilted her head back so he could look into her face.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Checking your pupils and making sure you don’t have a concussion.”

  He was so incredibly close to her, his mouth just inches away as he looked into her eyes. She was light-headed, and it had nothing to do with smashing her head.

  Nope. It was because every hard inch of him was pushed up against her. And even thought they’d been this close before, she still had no idea how to deal with it. How to deal with him.

  “I’m sorry you hit your head,” he said gently.

  “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to sneak up on people?” she asked.

  His mouth quirked to the side and she knew he was trying to hide a laugh. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “At least I wasn’t trying to. And I think you’re okay.” He moved his face back but kept the rest of his body plastered to hers.

  “I told you I was fine.”

  He looked at her face for a second longer and froze. “You cut your hair.”

  “Yeah.” She reached up and touched the curls at her shoulder.

  He stared at her for a moment before he let go of her and took a step back. “It looks good. Really, really good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You need help with your groceries?” He didn’t wait for her to answer but leaned over and grabbed the ketchup out of the trunk with no problem. He tossed it into one of the bags, then grabbed all the bags in one hand and shut the trunk in one swift motion.

  “Thanks,” Mel said again.

  Bennett stopped at his truck and grabbed a little bag before he shut the door. As Mel followed him up to the house, all she could think about was how the man never ceased to confuse the hell out of her. One second he was holding her and the next he was running away.

  Again.

  Yeah, this was getting ridiculous.

  When Mel and Bennett walked into the kitchen, Grace was at the sink washing something under a steady stream of water. Paige stood on one side of the island cutting fruit, and Harper sat at the bar, holding a sleeping Trevor.

  Grace spotted them first and her hands froze. “Holy shit,” she said, leaving her mouth hanging open.

  Leave it to Grace to not mince words.

  “What?” Harper asked following Grace’s gaze. “Oh. My. Gosh.”

  “Wow,” Paige said, looking up from her cutting.

  It took Mel a second to realize what they were all going on about. She was still reeling from Bennett and his extreme weirdness.

  Mel’s eyes flickered to him for just a second. He’d set the bags down on the counter and was starting to unload them, keeping his back to all of the girls.

  “What do you think?” Mel asked slowly, finding her bearings.

  “I think it’s awesome,” Grace said, shutting off the water. She grabbed a towel from the counter and dried her hands as she walked over to Mel. “I haven’t seen you with hair this short since we were five years old.” She reached up and grabbed one of Mel’s curls.

  Bennett moved to the fridge and began stocking it.

  “You look amazing. Not that you didn’t look amazing before, but this is just…wow,” Paige said in awe.

  “Yeah?” Mel asked, a smile coming across her face. She just couldn’t bring herself to keep Bennett out of her line of vision. He bent down slightly to move some stuff back on a shelf inside the fridge.

  “Oh yeah,” Grace said, nodding. “It looks hot.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be really catching the guys’ eyes now,” Harper said a bit malevolently, giving a pointed look in Bennett’s direction.

  Crash.

  Bennett’s head had come up fast and hit the edge of the top shelf. “Shit,” he said, taking a step back and rubbing the back of his head.

  It took everything Mel had not to start laughing. “Do we need to check your pupils?” she asked him sweetly.

  “No.” If Mel didn’t know any better, she would have sworn his cheeks had a little more color in them than they ha
d a moment before. “I’ll leave you ladies to those,” he said, indicating the rest of the bags on the counter. “I ran to my truck to get the sauce for the wings, and Jax is about to put those on.” He grabbed the small bag he’d pulled out of his truck and promptly vacated the room.

  The second he was outside on the deck and the door shut behind him, all of the women burst into laughter.

  “All right, I want the story of what just happened there between the two of you. You talk while I help them,” Harper said. She stood and handed Trevor over to Mel.

  “Talk about what?” Mel asked, adjusting Trevor in her arms.

  There was no doubt about it—Brendan and Paige made beautiful babies together. He had Paige’s wild dark hair and Brendan’s light blue eyes. He was most definitely going to be a heartbreaker when he grew up, just like his daddy.

  “What happened with you and Bennett?” Harper asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Mel said.

  “Don’t think we didn’t see the two of you talking after the game yesterday,” Paige said.

  “Or what just happened a second ago. I don’t think he liked hearing about the possibility of you with other men,” Grace said.

  “Yesterday was nothing. He helped me with a jammed door. That was it.”

  “You two were mighty close,” Paige said, looking up from her strawberry slicing.

  “And by that you mean he was mighty close.”

  “Yeah, but you weren’t moving away,” Harper said, doing her one-raised-eyebrow thing that she did so well.

  “No, you’re right. He did that, too. He came up to me and then he was the one that walked away. Just like he always is.”

  “That was cause Short-N-Scrawny came up to you guys,” Harper said.

  “Stu isn’t short and scrawny.”

  The other women stared at her in silent disbelief.

  “Okay, fine, Stu is. But look, really it wouldn’t have mattered if anyone had come up to us or not. Bennett—” Mel dropped her voice as she glanced out the window behind her to the deck outside. The guys were all gathered around the grill, and there was no way that any of them could hear her. “—Bennett keeps doing this. He gets close, then pulls away. Flirts, then bolts. Almost kisses me, then practically runs out the door. I’m not interested in playing this game of his.”

 

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