Marsh jumped off her like a schoolboy caught with his hand in his pants, and Ginger rued that she could have been coming indeed if they hadn’t been rudely interrupted.
“Sure, she stopped by for a drink. We were just getting ready to go.” Marsh adjusted his pants and helped Ginger up from the couch.
She smoothed her hair and straightened her dress, then put on her coat. “Remember, date night tomorrow.”
“And farm dinner the day after that.”
“Haircut and piercings for you.”
“I’ll see to that truck bed and hayloft adventure.” He sniggered as he opened the door to his mother.
“And I’ll make sure you have pepper spray and self defense lessons.” She tapped Marsh’s biceps, then turned to his mother. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Wolff. Marsh and I were just discussing how I can prepare him for his upcoming trip to the city. There’s so much he has to practice, from hailing cabs to tipping valets.”
“I’m so glad he’ll have you to guide him.” Marsh’s mother winked knowingly. “Marsh has a lot to do before he can get on that airplane.”
Somehow, Ginger knew she didn’t mean that Marsh had a lot of her to do, but a girl could do a lot worse than be on the top of his to-do list.
“Bye, bye, Marsh.” Ginger squeezed his hand and stroked his index finger with the circle created by her fingers and thumb. “Sweet dreams.”
Chapter Six
“Now you leave that boy alone.”
Max heard his father admonish his mother as he stepped into their kitchen the next morning for breakfast. He hadn’t slept well despite Ginger wishing him sweet dreams. How could he when every nerve in his body was riled up by that redheaded wildcat who’d torn into his life?
She was the reason he wanted to visit New York, because face it, if all women in the city were built like Ginger Myers, had a lip like Ginger Myers, and turned heads like Ginger Myers, he’d be in horndog heaven in a city surrounded by flaming hot redheads like Ginger Myers.
“You listen to me, Marshall Pierre Wolff.” Mom always used his full name whenever she meant business. “Honey’s sister is not a toy for you to play with and discard. She’s a relative.”
“I thought you wanted me to date,” Marsh said, looking at his dad for support. “I mean, you’re all proud of Mike for going on a date.”
“Dating, yes. Hooking up, no. Mike’s going out with that respectable Barnes girl from church.”
“Anne, I’m sure Marsh knows what he’s doing.” Dad set his coffee mug down and picked up a piece of bacon with his fingers. “The way I see it, Ginger Myers knows the score. She’s sharp and she can take care of herself.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.” Anne pursed her lips and served Marsh his scrambled eggs and bacon breakfast. “I can’t see her settling down here and living on a farm. Marsh is twenty-seven already, and he needs to be looking for wife material.”
“He’s still young, sowing his wild oats.” Dad chuckled.
“He’s wasting his oats.” Mom poured Marsh a glass of milk and set it down with a clunk.
“So he gets serious after he comes back from the city,” Dad said. “Let the boy have some fun.”
“I’m sitting right here,” Marsh cut in while crunching his bacon. “You two don’t have to plan my life.”
“Nope, but if you don’t get that gate fixed, ol’ Bill will be clear over in Travis Bennett’s field sowing his oats with the young cows over there.”
“Yes, Dad. I’m taking care of it today if Mike can help.”
“You guys talking about me?” Mike stumbled into the kitchen with his hair still sticking up and pressed to one side. He yawned and grabbed a plate.
“How long did you stay out last night?” Marsh grilled his brother to turn the tables on him.
“A missionary was at the church,” Mike said smoothly. “And we had to stay for choir practice.”
“Uh huh.” Marsh didn’t believe that sappy church story. About the only missionary last night was the position. Too bad his mom was so gullible.
Marsh wolfed down his breakfast and tapped his brother on the shoulder. “I’m off to feed the cows. We have to work on the tractor today and fix the busted gate. But tonight, I have a date, so you’re going to have to hold down the fort.”
“With Honey’s sister?” Mike made a face. “Isn’t that incestuous?”
“Just because our brother married her sister doesn’t make her off-limits,” he replied to his brother, but stared at his mother. “And don’t get any ideas about wedding bells or baking sugar cream pies. She’s showing me how to get along in New York. That’s all.”
“Guess we’d better stay away from the hayloft tonight.” Mike laughed, holding his stomach.
Mom shot daggers at him, and Dad smirked, probably remembering his own wild oats sown in plenty of haylofts across Nebraska.
Marsh didn’t have time to dilly dally. He had to get through his work in record time if he wanted to take her out on a proper date.
He was already doing more for her than any girl since his high school sweetheart broke his heart and eloped with a millionaire passing through town.
“Don’t worry about the loft,” Marsh said. “I’ll do as Mom says and leave her be. She’s only styling my hair and giving me city lessons. The date will be entirely platonic. Why, I’ll leave all the doors open if it makes all of you feel better.”
Now that he thought about it, he was way out of line last night, but couldn’t a red-blooded man be forgiven for wanting a taste of those ginger-red lips?
No matter, he’d better be on his best behavior tonight. Ginger Myers was going to experience a country gentleman firsthand. Actually, it was his hands that got him in trouble, and his eyes, his mouth, and his …
“This I gotta see.” Mike rubbed his hands together. “Bringing popcorn for a front row seat.”
“I’m afraid you’ll get so bored, you’ll fall asleep.” Marsh loaded his empty plate into the dishwasher and sauntered from the kitchen, trying to act as if nothing was happening between him and Ginger.
But then, nothing could ever happen. Ginger was here to play country with him. Once she tired of him, she’d be back to her fast-paced big city lifestyle.
He wouldn’t stand a chance unless he got properly citified in her hands. And even then, like Mom said, there was no end-game. A sophisticated, hip woman like Ginger Myers would never muck stables, deliver baby calves, or cook up his favorite casserole.
* * *
Ginger always traveled with her styling shears, trimmers and clippers. Of course, it meant checking them in her luggage, but her sisters, brother-in-law and brother-in-law to-be, and her darling niece and nephew, and now her sisters’ friends and in-laws all wanted haircuts and new styles.
Marsh was busy during the day, so she spent it in Honey’s kitchen cutting and styling and catching up on town gossip.
“You sure you and Troy don’t want the tickets to that Valentine’s party?” Ginger asked Candi as she sprayed water to wet her hair before sectioning it.
“You should have scalped them in New York,” Candi said. “The entire town’s going to the Valentine’s Day dance down at the community center. There’s even a bachelor’s auction on Saturday to buy dates to the dance. I can put together a list of hotties you should bid on.”
A squirrelly feeling scampered inside Ginger’s stomach. Marsh wasn’t going to be at any of the Sapphire Falls Valentine’s activities which started this weekend.
But then again, should she even care?
True, he was the first single and available man she’d met, but surely there were others just as big, strong, and virile. Guys who grew up on Nebraskan corn and beef, whose muscles came from hard work and not a fitness center, and who kissed hot and rolled in the hay even hotter.
“Are you still thinking about last night?” Candi turned her head and gave her a side-eyed look. “Because you were up in Marsh’s apartment a little while.”
�
�Not long enough for whatever you’re thinking.” Ginger recovered quickly and ran her comb through Candi’s hair, securing another section with a hair clip. “Are you sure you and Troy don’t want the tickets? It’s going to be in Times Square.”
“You should go to the party with Marsh.” Candi gave her a thumbs up.
Ginger shuddered at the feel of her face hitting the dirty sidewalk and the last memory of the mugger pawing over her, ripping off a necklace and absconding with her decoy purse. She’d been helpless, not even fully aware of what was happening, dazed and dizzy.
“I’m not sure I ever want to go back to New York,” Ginger said. “I got fired from my job, and the mugging really scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” Candi reached up and grasped her hand. “What happened?”
Ginger told how she’d gotten into a verbal confrontation with a customer and how her boss had had to mollify the customer to prevent her from suing, and that her client hadn’t rushed to her defense, but had slunk away without paying her.
“That’s New York men for you,” Ginger said. “No heroes there. No one wants to get involved. So, when I found he’d left those two tickets to the Valentine’s Day Extravaganza at the city’s swankiest club in Times Square, I pocketed them. I was going to scalp them before I got mugged. Then, since I was late going to the airport, I didn’t get a chance.”
“Let’s auction them off here,” Candi said. “I can talk to Kate Spencer, the lady in charge of the bachelor’s auction, and ask her to put up these tickets.”
“You think she’d do it though? Wouldn’t it compete with tourism to Sapphire Falls?” Ginger didn’t want to get her hopes up. “I could use the money, but …”
“It’ll be fine. If someone from Sapphire Falls visits New York, they might meet people there who’d want to come here for vacation. Isn’t that what happened with San Francisco?”
Candi and Honey had grown up in San Francisco with their mother when their parents divorced, and she and Amber had gone with their father to New York City.
Apparently, there were quite a few transplants from San Francisco to Sapphire Falls, including Kate Spencer and others, enough where the town joked about having nonstop flights using some of the richer residents’ private jets.
“Okay, if you say so.” Ginger continued to section Candi’s hair. “Have you decided how you want me to layer it?”
While cutting her sister’s hair, Ginger tossed several hairstyles in her mind for Marsh. She could do him a quiff, or perhaps a severe fade with an undercut, or even a full retro pompadour.
Thinking about running her fingers through his thick hair had her wishing he would be one of the bachelors at the auction. She could use the proceeds of the tickets to buy a date with him.
“Can you make sure that the tickets are auctioned first so I’ll have money to bid on the bachelors?”
“You bet.” Candi said.
Chapter Seven
Marsh was in and out of the shower in record time. He and his brother worked nonstop all day, but when five o’clock rolled around, he left Mike holding the nail gun.
He put on a clean shirt, a pressed crisp pair of jeans, and was just about to shave when someone rang the bell.
No one rang the bell, and he’d even forgotten he’d had one installed. His parents usually knocked to give him a five second warning before barging in, and Mike never bothered knocking.
“Door’s unlocked,” he called out. Not that he ever locked the door to his apartment or the barn for that matter.
The doorbell rang again, so Marsh dragged his fingers through his hair and opened the door.
“Snip, snip, snip.” Ginger snapped the blades of her scissors. She stepped in, hefting a large tote bag, and stared at the nonexistent lock. “You don’t have a deadbolt?”
“No need. What’s with the scissors?”
“Oh, Marsh, we can’t go out on a date with you looking like you woke up in a pile of hay.” She shrugged off her coat and he hung it on the rack.
“We can’t? I thought long hair was sexy.”
“Only if you’re into caveman chic.” Ginger placed her hands on his shoulders and spun him around to the kitchen. “Sit.”
Before he could wipe his bangs from his face, she had him on a chair with a plastic sheet wrapped around his neck. She pulled trimmers out of her tote bag and a plastic spray bottle which she filled with water.
“Now, I’m thinking about either a quiff or a disconnected pompadour.” She fluffed his hair, pulling it up at the top.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marsh said. “Mom puts a bowl over my head and cuts around it.”
“Ouch!”
Ginger kept massaging his head and boy did that feel good.
“Whatever you think will make me fit in in the city.” He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair.
“Okay, don’t freak out when you see the hair coming off.”
“Don’t worry. I’m a brave man.” He relaxed his shoulders and tried not to notice the close buzzing of the trimmer and the snipping scissors.
It was only hair. It would grow back.
He thought about the travel websites and all the places he would visit. Times Square. Wall Street. Chinatown. Central Park, and the Empire State Building. He could see himself looking urban and cool—walking down the canyons between tall, imposing buildings, and dancing the night away at the many clubs and bars. The women in New York dressed with fashion and polish. Half of them were models, what with all of the fashion shows and design institutes populating the city. They’d laugh at him if he looked like he was a grizzly man out from the backwoods. With Ginger’s help, he was going to have the most fabulous Valentine’s Day ever.
Some time later, Ginger brushed her hand over Marsh’s hair, or what was left of it, and took off the plastic cape.
“Ta dum! I’m done. Let’s go have a look,” she said, chirpily.
Marsh stepped into his tiny bathroom and his jaw dropped. “I’m almost bald on the sides. And why’s there a strip of hair up top and all the way down to my neck like a skunk’s stripe?”
“It’s a rolled up Mohawk with a sharp fade and undercut. The front is a pompadour that veers into a Mohawk in the back.”
“I, uh, have no clue.” He turned his head from left to right.
“It’s a hot style. That’s what it is.” She rubbed her fingers into a plastic jar of wax and pulled his hair up and back. “I gave you a pompadour instead of a quiff, because I know how you farm boys are, always pulling your hair back out of your eyes.”
“Oh, okay, I guess it looks good. What happens when it starts growing out? I’ll look like a hyena.” A wave of panic hit him that his buddies would roll with laughter at the sight of him.
“Just take a razor and shave the sides, or get one of these trimmers and use a short comb.” She acted like all of this was easy for him to understand.
He grabbed his razor and shaving cream. “I’ll be ready for our date as soon as I shave my whiskers.”
“No, don’t.” She put her hand over his. “You should trim your beard, so it always looks like you have a two-day growth. It’s ultra sexy, believe me.”
“Believe you?” He could go with her definition of sexy.
“Yeah, they don’t call me a beautician for nothing.”
“I think that deserves a kiss.” He pulled her close. “Thanks for making me beautiful.”
Yuck. He shouldn’t have said that. What was he thinking?
He was definitely not joining the legions of Sapphire Falls love-struck men who kept the florists and bakers in business. The hills and hollows were full of these starry-eyed men, including all four of the Bennett brothers, both Spencer brothers, the Anderson boys, and even his own brother, Max and his best buddy, Troy Caine. Women like Ginger Myers didn’t come around all that often, and whenever one of those fancy city girls stepped her stilettos into town, she was snapped up quickly.
“Anytime, sexy guy.” She gave h
im a wink and patted his cheek.
Marsh feathered Ginger’s long, flowing hair back and laid a sweet kiss on her lips. Despite her being a stylist, her own hair was natural and long, just the way he liked it. He couldn’t see himself with a short-haired woman or one who resembled a porcupine in heat.
Kissing Ginger felt so natural and good, and Marsh gave himself a minute, or two, to thoroughly devour her. But tonight wasn’t about seducing Ginger—not after his mother’s stern warning. She was practically family, and if she wasn’t clear about what they were doing, future family gatherings could be awkward.
He disengaged from the soul-scorching kiss, not easily, but because if he didn’t, they wouldn’t be stepping from his apartment.
“Are we ready to go?” Marsh asked, observing how flushed her cheeks were.
“Not yet.” Ginger caught her breath and rushed back to the kitchen and dug in her bag. She opened a small box and pulled out something that looked like a glue gun. “You’ll need at least one ear pierced.”
“Why?” Marsh’s hands flew protectively to his earlobes.
“So you’ll fit in with the city crowd. You didn’t think you could just waltz into New York without at least one piercing, did you?”
“I, uh, well, no.” Marsh flipped through all the people in his mind who’d laugh at him or disapprove, starting with his mother, brothers, and buddies. “I’m not a rap artist or anything. Just a farmer.”
“Exactly my point.” Ginger displayed a box of colorful studs. “When’s your birthday?”
“April 5th, why?”
“Diamond it is.” She fitted the stud to the gun, which was definitely not a glue gun. “You have rubbing alcohol?”
“Uh, yes, this isn’t going to hurt, is it?”
“Do I lie to you or tell you the truth?” She wandered back to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet.
“Just make it quick.” Marsh squeezed his eyes shut, wondering what else she had in store for him.
A few seconds later, and yes, it stung like the dickens, Marsh sported a sparkling fake diamond stud in his left ear.
Sapphire Falls: Going Hearts Over Heels (Kindle Worlds Novella) (My Country Heart Book 3) Page 4