Sidelines (Wounded Hearts #1) (26 page)

Collectively we come up with a look that I think will do the least amount of damage to the look the stylists back home work so hard to maintain and within ten minutes I’m being ushered to a set of shampooing chairs. Emma and Lucy stay in their seats, so for the first time, I’m left to just chat with Fallon by myself. She takes extra care in adjusting the seat and water temperature, a faraway look in her eyes as she sets about doing her thing.

“So you’re Emma and Lucy’s normal stylist?”

“Yeah, they found me about six months ago when I first started working here. Great girls.” She sets about rinsing my hair, her eyes darting up to watch the movement around her as she talks.

“They are. Their whole family is pretty fantastic, actually.”

She smirks as she glances down and catches my eye. “I bet.”

Sensing where she might be going with this, I flip our conversation back on her. “I haven’t gotten to spend much time with Drew though.”

At the mere mention of his name, her whole body sighs. “He’s back and forth from California so much that I don’t understand how he does it.”

“So you know Drew pretty well then?”

Her alabaster cheeks pinken. “I wouldn’t say I know him well. He’s come in a couple of times. The girls referred him. He seems pretty great though.”

A glossy look crosses her eyes before she shakes her head and checks her surroundings again.

“Okay, so I don’t want to pressure you, but I have this product that I’d like to use.”

“Um, okay.” Her sudden change of topic and makes me feel a little uneasy.

“It’s my own concoction actually. It’s a blend of—well, a lot of things, but it’s totally all-natural and it’s fantastic for hair that’s had a lot of coloring and highlights like ours.” She reaches up and pulls on one of her loose curls. “I use it and one day it’ll be patented and distributed to the greatest salons in the country.”

Her passion behind her own invention has me in awe. I take in another observation of her dazzling hair and notice how healthy and shiny it looks, despite the product it must take to keep it from falling in this incredible humidity.

“Okay,” I say, “let’s do it.”

She grins proudly and carefully looks around to make sure that no one is looking. The moment she pours the mixture into her hand I can tell this is going to be the best shampooing I’ll ever have. She sets about scrubbing my scalp and massaging my hair, a mixture of wildflowers and honey permeating the air. I can’t help but melt in the chair. After a moment though, I feel her tense and I know before I open my eyes that Frannie will be standing not far away and most likely have her scowl back on her too pretty face.

“What have I told you about peddling your product here?”

“I didn’t peddle, she asked for it.” Regardless of feeling the sting of Fallon’s lie, I can’t help my immediate desire to come to her defense.

“The girls couldn’t stop raving about it so I had to ask,” I interject with a faux apologetic look, hoping to help keep Fallon off the hook.

Frannie eyes me wearily, but slowly turns away and back toward the salon floor. She stops for just a moment and shoots Fallon a nasty look. “I’d like to speak with you before I leave today.”

Fallon stands expressionless as she nods and continues her delicious work on my hair.

“I’m sorry. I thought speaking up would be more helpful.”

“No, it’s not that. She just needs some Jesus in her life.”

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

“Oh. My. Wow.” My hair feel like it’s a cloud. Fallon’s magic knows no bounds. The subtle hints of highlights make my skin glow. The six inches she chopped off and layered make me feel like a brand new person. And after these last few days, the change is more than welcome.

“Is that a good wow or a bad wow?” Fallon drums her fingers together in front of her face in anticipation, a pierced brow rising anxiously while I hold up the mirror and check out every angle.

“A fantastic wow.”

She jumps up and squeals, landing to do her own happy dance. “Oh, I’m so glad you like it.”

“I may just have to come back to Texas for touch ups.” I peer at her over the top of the mirror to see her stop her happy dancing with an overjoyed shock on her face.

“You mean that? Because I will literally go crazy if you don’t.”

Emma and Lucy glance giddily at each other in the mirror behind me. I’d come back to Texas to spend an afternoon with all three of these girls in a heartbeat.

“I do. There is no way I’m going back to my old stylist. I may have to schedule you around games though. Maybe when I come back in for the Rattlers—” My thought is cut off when my face is smothered by the arms tightening around me. Fallon has the grip of a boa constrictor.

“Trying to…breathe…here.”

She jumps back, delight illuminating her striking face.

“I’m your girl. If you can give me a week’s notice, I can be available for whatever time you’re here.”

Her enthusiasm ignites something within. I have a feeling I’ve made a true friend in Fallon. The whole time she was painting and snipping away at my hair we talked the game. It didn’t take me long to establishe she is almost as die hard a Spartan’s fan as Walt is, but that didn’t surprise me with the way she all but worships Drew. I make a mental note to see if I can get the two of them to cross paths more often.

She also had explained to me her dream of opening her own salon one day. Someplace she could display her own line without getting the third degree from anyone. She painted a picture of a football themed salon, complete with a big screen so she wouldn’t miss a moment of
Football 24
—or a Spartan’s game—and memorabilia from games she’s had the fortune of going to. I had promised her that whenever she got it up an running, I’d be willing to send her some of my own loot and I almost thought I would end up with a bald patch thanks to her excitement. Fortunately, she was able to contain herself enough to do a flawless job.

Fallon practically dances the whole way to the cash register as we follow her back toward the front. She starts punching things into the touch screen while I dig out my wallet, reminding me of the best time frames to come back in to make sure my highlights stay on pointe. Out of my peripheral vision, I see Emma hold out a card. I start to reach for it, but she smirks.

“Nope, birthday girl does not get to pay for her gifts.”

I feel the blush starting to creep up my neck as Fallon takes the card from Emma. “You guys don’t need to get me anything. Just getting to spend the whole day with you is enough.”

Fallon’s jaw drops when she reads the name on the card. I immediately know whose name is there, but I refuse to believe that Logan would do this to me again.

“Oh no. Give me that back. He is not—”

“I’ve been dying to ask.” Lucy doesn’t tear her eyes away from the display of gel nail polish as a smile quirks at her lips. “What did he do this time?”

Three sets of eyes suddenly bore into me. You could hear a pin drop as they wait for my answer.

“He told you to bring me this morning?”

“No. We told him what we were planning and he tossed the card at me.” Emma shifts her weight and tilts her head, eyes squinting as if she can read the latest issues I’m having with Logan from some invisible tattoo on my forehead.

“He even looked guilty,” Lucy adds.

“It was nothing.”

“Was it that almost kiss?”

My jaw hits the floor.

“What almost kiss?! You almost kissed Logan Lassiter?” Fallon screeches while we all try to shush her.

“I didn’t almost kiss anyone.”

“Not what it looked like from where I was sitting.” Emma’s suppressed smile transforms to a full on smirk.

I shake my head as I hold my card out for Fallon. She shakes her head and swipes Logan’s card without even stopping to consider taking mine.

“Honey, if I had a Lassiter brother wrapped so tightly around my finger, I wouldn’t fighting it. At. All.”

She hands the card back to Emma and winks at her. Emma replaces the card back into her own wallet, that smirk still firmly planted on her face.

“Oh she’s fighting it, all right. And knowing Logan, he is too. But we all know it’s just a matter of time—”

“Before I get fired for it.” All three sets of eyes dart my way and three jaws hit the floor, and I realize I said my thoughts out loud.

“Well, that explains a lot.” Lucy shakes her shock away. Emma frowns. Fallon’s eyes fill with pity. She places a hand over mine, trying to lend me her strength.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Allie Mooreland. You’re always welcome in my salon.”

As if hearing her from the other room, Frannie pokes her head through the open doorway and frowns.

“Fallon, I need you to clean out the sinks before your next appointment.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the tyrant poor Fallon works for, but sweet, radiant Fallon comes around the counter and wraps me up in another tight hug.

“I’ll see you soon,” I promise her as we pull apart. She beams and bids us goodbye before bouncing back toward the shampoo room.

“So what’s next?” I turn back to the Lassiter girls who are quietly arguing behind me. They both straighten up and smile fake smiles.

“We’re off to the spa. You ready?”

I cross my arms, preparing to fight. “Not if we’re going on Logan’s dime. He’s done using that card to apologize for his mistakes. Lucy’s smile turns genuine.

“Nope, this one’s on us.”

“Good because I’m done accepting gifts from him.” I pull in a deep, cleansing breath, hoping it will clear the cobwebs our many arguments have left behind. But I don’t miss the look the girls share before they both slip their sunglasses over their eyes. Emma nods at me over the top of the car before she slips in.

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”

 

***

 

My hair has been colored and cut, my face scrubbed, exfoliated, moisturized and professionally made up. My head, shoulders and hands have all been massaged and we even managed to squeeze in a little shopping where I found myself a fabulous, new, boutique raglan t-shirt that states “It’s football, y’all!” After also finding a store having a huge sale on jean shorts and an outlet shoe store that just so happened to have all their sandals on clearance, I feel like a new girl as we drive back to Walker. The closer and closer we get to the ranch, however, I begin to feel the giddiness my time with the girls had brought start to slip away. When Emma pulls onto the driveway, I take little comfort in the extra trucks that are sitting next to Logan’s.

“Please tell me this isn’t a surprise kind of thing.” I try not to moan.

The girls give each other conspiratorial grins. “This is not a surprise party, no.”

The smugness in Lucy’s voice does little to provide any relief.

The girls both hop out of the car, a little eager in their steps, so I gulp in a lungful before we step through the front door.

“There she is!” Jillian pops up off the couch and approaches me with open arms. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t delight in how taken with me she seems to be. “And look at your hair. I love it! Did you girls have a good time?”

Jillian has successfully managed to wipe away all my reservations with her fervor.

“We had a blast. I feel like a brand new person.” Her whole face beams as she pulls me into the living room. Like a magnet, my eyes seek out Logan, his gaze on the floor. He stands and makes his way to toward the kitchen, a nervous tick in his jaw.

Aside from our little encounter this morning, most of the time we’ve spent together these last couple of days has seemed explosive. But with his family here, I make a vow to myself to do my best to reign in any ill feelings toward him and be on my best behavior. I have no doubt that, if not for at least the sake of his momma, he will do the same.

“You look lovely, Miss Allie.” Sam sweeps me into his warm embrace and plants a tender kiss in my hair. “Happy birthday, sweet girl.”

“Thank you both.”

Logan leans up against the doorway to the kitchen, crossing his ankles and shoving his hands in his pockets. A thousand words hang between us, and a tension you’d need a hatchet to cut through fills the air.

“So…” Emma looks back and forth between us, her eyes beating us both into admitting why it suddenly got so awkward. “Did you get it all set up?” She turns to her brother, and Owen pops up behind him, an overly innocent smile on his face.

“We’re all ready.” Owen rushes around Logan and reaches out to me. “Happy birthday, Allie.”

“Thanks, Owen. What is ready?”

As if anticipating what the Lassiter clan has cooked up, my stomach growls embarrassingly loud. Everyone, including Logan laughs, effectively easing some of the strain.

“We may or may not have ordered in your favorite food?” Lucy bounces on her toes, her endless trepidation bubbling to the surface.

“My favorite food?” Logan turns a shade pink before his eyes connect with mine. Before he can step out of the way to allow the food to come into my line of sight, I already know what he’s done.

“Nachos!”

My inner Lucy comes out causing everyone to start laughing at me. I don’t care. Somehow in all the excitement of the day, the girls and I had worked up a hefty appetite and failed to nurse it with anything other than a couple of caramel mochas.

“Not just any nachos,” Emma grins as she wraps her arms around Owen’s waist. My gaze flits back to the spread on the island and all my walls melt as I make my way in and stare at the food before me. I feel Logan come up behind me, close enough I can feel his shoulder as he brushes past me and hands me a paper boat.

“How did you manage this?” I gaze down at the big bowl of greasy chili and jar of pickled jalapenos. He reaches in to a bag of chips big enough to feed his entire team and fills my boat.

“Jimmy knows the owners. I had him call in a favor for me. He hopes you have a great birthday, by the way.” The stubble on his face has grown in, but not enough to hide his dimple when his mouth quirks while he continues to make my chili cheese nachos for me. The divine smell brings back all my fondest memories of being in football stadiums across the country. Suddenly I’m reminded of the first time I stepped foot into the Rattlers stadium and ordered these very same nachos.

“Well, tell him I said thank you.”

His hand covers the one I’m holding the boat with as he pours the chili over my cheese and that touch sparks something within again. I hadn’t been feeling it lately, had even assumed that it was just something that wears off with time, but judging by the sharp intake of his breath, I’d be willing to bet he was feeling it tonight, too.

“Hey, just because you’re the birthday girl doesn’t mean you get to hog all the grub.” Lucy nudges me from behind, bumping me out of our little moment. I clear my throat and thank Logan as I take my little paper gingham dish full of heavenly goodness to the dining table. Remembering I needed something to drink, I turn to find Logan right behind me with a can of cherry Coke. The moment I take it from him, he shoves one hand into his pocket and the other reaches for the back of his neck. The strain in his eyes tells me he has something he wants to say, but just as he’s about to open his mouth, Lucy enters the room, reliving our day at ninety miles-an-hour with her poor father listening patiently behind her. Logan gives me a small smile and turns, leaving his thoughts unsaid.

 

***

 

“I can’t believe you thought you could use ‘snogged’ in Scrabble,” Owen complains to Lucy as they pack up the board game.

“Well if we were in England I would have been able to.” She folds her arms over her thin frame and pouts. Getting to spend the evening with the whole Lassiter family has been the best part of my night, even surpassing the nachos Logan had catered in. The good food, the games, even Logan was good company as we passed the hours in the quiet confines of his ranch home.

“Oh!” Emma jumps up and gives her mom some subliminal message. Jillian’s eyes widen as understanding dawns on her and she jumps up to follow her daughter into the kitchen. Curious as to what the two girls are up to, I lean back and quietly crane my neck to see if I can catch them in whatever sneakiness they have planned.

Logan catches me peeking and tries to catch my attention. “I like the hair.” His voice is quiet so that only I can hear him under Lucy’s endless arguments on how British terms are English terms and should therefore be considered fair use in American word games.

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