“Okay, I’m ready.” Rusty entered the kitchen, white sneakers on his feet, baggy jeans and a black-and-white plaid shirt covering the rest of him. A thick hank of bangs had dried enough to fall over half of his forehead, as if he’d shoved them to the side before walking into the kitchen. The ends were well past his eyes.
“Where were the shoes?” Senior asked.
“Next to my bed,” Rusty muttered. “Guess I forgot I put them there.”
Senior winked at Harper. “What did I tell ya?”
Harper didn’t think forgetting where a pair of shoes was indicated anything. She waved him off with a smile. “Thanks for the tea and cookies, Mr.Jenkins.”
Senior rose from the table and took her hand, then kissed the top in an overly dramatic gesture. “Please,” he said. “Call me Russell.”
“Give me a break.” Rusty shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “She’ll call you Senior like everyone else does.”
His grandfather chortled and let go of her hand. “You two have a nice outing, ya hear?”
She couldn’t help but grin back. “We will.”I hope.Contrary to his placid demeanor this morning, Rusty seemed on edge. And what Russell, er, Senior chalked up to being sweet on her had to be his grandson’s apprehension about the auction. Nothing else.
As they walked out of the house, Rusty said, “Don’t pay him no mind.”
“Why not? He’s adorable. The women are going to love him at the gala.”
“I’m sure they will.” He turned to her, the wind whipping his long hair. “Are we taking my truck or the Merc?”
“My car,” she said.
“I’ll grab my coat.” He walked over to his vehicle and grabbed a gray zipped hoodie with a frayed hem, then went to the passenger side of her car.
“That’s your coat?”
“Yep.” He slipped it on, and she noticed the white hood ties hung unevenly. Then he opened the car door and got inside.
She shook her head and sat behind the wheel. She had her work cut out for her.
Chapter13
“I don’t know about this, Harper.” Rusty sat down in the chair at Artie’s Barbershop and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
“You said you trusted me.”
“I didn’t know that meant shaving all my hair off.”
She stood on one side of him, Artie on the other. Rusty was his last customer of the day, and other than the three of them, the shop was empty. Good thing, too, because Rusty reckoned he and Harper were about to get into their first argument.
“Artie’s not going to shave off your hair,” Harper said, looking at Rusty’s reflection in the mirror. Then she glanced at Artie. “You’re not, right? Just a low taper with a side comb-over.”
“A low what with a what?” Rusty asked.
“I’m cuttin’ your hair,” Artie said. “That’s all you need to know.”
Harper sat down in the empty barber chair next to himand thumbed through a hairstyle magazine while Artie went to work. Clumps of hair dropped to the floor as he ran his razor over Rusty’s head. “When was the last time you had a haircut?” Artie asked. “I haven’t seen you here in a long time.”
“Can’t remember. Been meanin’ to get one, though.”
Artie moved the razor away from Rusty and leaned forward. “You’re not the first guy who was dragged here by his girlfriend,” he said in a low voice.
“She’s not—”
But Artie was already back at work. Rusty glanced at Harper, but she was still reading the magazine. Fortunately she hadn’t heard what Artie said. His nerves were already jangled enough, and he didn’t need a know-it-all barber making things worse.
