Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Presley
H air day in Dragonfly Lake was a different experience for me.
Going to the salon here was a social event, where you could gather advice from well-meaning women and catch up on the latest around town. Posh, Emerson’s salon, was one of those rare places where a sisterhood could be formed with near strangers over the course of a couple of hours.
In Nashville, I’d gone to the same stylist for several years, but I barely knew her and vice versa, because I’d generally worked while I was in the chair.
I couldn’t fathom doing that here. Burying my head in work and missing out on the wide range of conversations at Posh would be a sacrilege.
It was Wednesday, just after five p.m. Chloe and I had appointments together, with Emerson doing her cut and highlight and Willow doing mine in the next chair over.
Gradually the other stylists had finished their workdays, told everyone goodbye, and taken off for the evening, leaving just the four of us.
Willow was sharing tales of her eleven-year-old daughter’s crush on the boy who lived next door to them, which prompted us to share our own embarrassing pre-adolescent crushes.
“Mine was Holden,” Chloe said.
“Really?” Emerson met Chloe’s eyes in the mirror, pausing in the middle of foiling a section of hair.
“I wouldn’t lie about that,” Chloe said, laughing. “Have I never told you that before?”
“You’ve mentioned you had feelings for him in high school, but I didn’t know they went back that far. And you’re not sick of him yet?”
We all laughed.
“I didn’t tell a soul back then,” Chloe said. “I wouldn’t dream of admitting that to my mom. Just goes to show how much your daughter trusts you, Willow.”
Willow grimaced as she sectioned off another chunk of my hair. “I hope that can somehow continue once hormones turn her into a teenage monster.”
“I hear you,” Emerson said. “That’s getting closer for us too with Evelyn.”
“You both seem to have built a solid foundation with your daughters,” I said. “Obviously I know nothing about parenting, but logic says that’s the first step.”
“Yeah, except logic goes out the window with kids,” Willow said.
“Amen,” Emerson said.
“You make me want to run right out and have six of them,” I joked.
My phone buzzed with a text, so I pulled it out to check. My heart did a little dance step when I saw West’s name.
West: The fixtures and railings for the rooftop patio were just delivered.
He must still be at my house, finishing up.
Presley: How do they look?
He sent a wide-eyed, nonsmiling emoji that I’d always interpreted as WTF.
I frowned, waiting for him to say more.
West: Did you order these?
A photo appeared of a heavy, bronze, medieval-looking light fixture that made me think of Conan the Barbarian or some other masculine grunter who drank mead in steins.
Presley: That would be a no.
Levi had been the one to order the fixtures I’d picked out for the top of the boathouse two or three weeks ago since I added that to the project after the fact. Apparently West hadn’t seen the order.
West: I didn’t think so. These and some similarly chunky railings are what we got. These aren’t your style at all.
I laughed.
Presley: What is my style?
West: You love silver fixtures, but I’m betting for outside, with your gray and white house, you went with a sleek black something or other.
I couldn’t help grinning because he’d nailed it.
Presley: Yes and yes. Do you know all your clients this well?
He sent an emoji of a disturbed face.
West: No, ma’am. You’re special. I’m going to see if I can track down what happened and get the right products here. Probably not till tomorrow since it’s after five.
Presley: My hero.
West: I’ll show you hero.
I grinned hard. I loved that he knew me so well. And called me special. And sent a veiled, suggestive message.
“Who are you texting with?” Chloe asked.
Meeting her gaze in the mirror, I realized she was raising a brow at me.
“My contractor.”
Chloe repeated, “Your contractor ? You mean the big, burly, hot guy you have a mad crush on?”
I wasn’t much of a blusher, but I felt my face go hot, and I couldn’t wipe my smile away.
“West, I assume?” Emerson asked.
I fake-glared at Chloe. “Thanks for outing me, friend.”
“Is this West Aldridge?” Willow asked.
I made eye contact with my stylist, who I’d just met an hour ago, and pressing my lips together, nodded.
“I can see why you’d crush on him,” Emerson said.
“He’s got the tool belt thing going on,” Chloe explained, and the other two nodded knowingly.
“I was apparently the last woman alive to understand the tool belt thing,” I said.
“But you get it now,” Willow stated rather than asked.
“Oh, I totally get it now.” I noticed Chloe looking at me curiously. “What?” I asked her.
“Has it progressed to more than a crush?” she asked.
I glanced around even though I knew we four were alone. “This is one of those ‘what’s shared at the salon stays at the salon’ moments, right?”
Emerson made a zipping-her-lips motion.
Willow said, “Mum’s the word.”
“Really, it has to stay secret because of his kids,” I said.
“Oh, that’s interesting,” Chloe said knowingly. “We won’t tell anyone you slept with him.”
Sounds of approval arose from the two stylists, making me smile harder.
“Sleep ing . And not sleeping,” I clarified.
“I knew it,” Chloe said. “You’ve been quieter lately.”
“I have been busy building a coffee shop,” I pointed out.
“With your hot builder sex toy.”
“Don’t objectify him like that,” I teasingly scolded.
“He’s more than just a handsome face?” Willow asked.
Everyone went quiet as I got caught up in thinking about the question.
“He’s a lot more than just a handsome face.” I said it in all seriousness, trying to sort through my thoughts. My…feelings. “It was supposed to be a one-time thing.”
“It’s more?” Willow asked, her tone telling me she understood.
I nodded. “He’s… Oh, God. I just like him. A lot. He’s just…good.”
All three of them howled and made suggestive comments, which made me laugh.
“Absolutely that, but also he’s a good human. A kind person. A badass on the outside and a marshmallow when it comes to his girls. But he’s a wonderful father, not a pushover.”
I told them about Nova’s injury and how West had been so in control even though I could tell by looking at him he was worried to his core.
“Wait,” Chloe said, “he and his daughters were at your house on a social visit?”
“To see the kittens,” I explained, because how could I adopt three kittens and not invite those little girls over?
“And go kayaking,” Emerson added.
“They were so taken by my colorful kayaks. I promised them we’d take them out.” I grinned. “They decided my tie-dye ones are superior to Jagger’s ‘ugly orange ones’ at the marina.”
“There are definite feelings involved here,” Emerson said.
“And not just about boat colors,” Chloe added.
“I was just thinking this doesn’t sound like your average hookup guy,” Willow said.
I felt Chloe staring at me through the mirror again. I dared to meet her gaze. She narrowed her eyes, assessing. Making me squirm.
“What?” I said.
“I’ve never seen you like this. You’re, like…bubbly.”
“Bubbly?” I asked in disbelief.
She tilted her head, and Emerson gently guided her back to where she needed her.
“Sorry,” Chloe said to Emerson. Then she came back to me. “Is this getting serious, Presley?”
Serious . What did that mean, exactly? I’d never had a serious relationship before, but… “I don’t know. We started out as a fling.”
“It sounds more like a relationship,” Willow said, “when you spend time with his kiddos.”
“And get bubbly when you talk about him,” Emerson added.
“I’m not bubbly,” I said. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Like…lovesick,” Willow said.
I laughed at her word choice.
“Are you falling in love?” Chloe asked in an incredulous tone.
“I…” I’d been about to deny that in a knee-jerk reaction. Presley Holiday didn’t fall in love. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about it. Lust? Yes. Love?” I made a face. “How do you even know when you fall in love?”
“You just…know,” Emerson said.
The other two nodded.
“Not helpful,” I said.
“Are you planning to end the fling when West finishes your projects?” Chloe asked.
“I hope not, but we haven’t talked about what happens afterward. I see him seven days a week right now, for hours on end sometimes.”
“Love is…feeling connected. Like partners in certain aspects,” Emerson said.
I thought about how we’d teamed up when Nova got hurt.
“It’s passion,” Willow said. “Not only wanting to F his brains out on the daily but feeling strongly about him as a whole person.”
“It’s showing interest in his interests and vice versa,” Chloe said. “Like running a brewery because he likes beer.”
We all laughed. “You always were more of a wine girl than a beer one,” I said. And then she and Holden had hooked up and opened Rusty Anchor.
I thought about kayaking. I’d started that because West had mentioned boating. And he seemed more interested in coffee now, sampling different beans and blends I made with my home coffee machine, listening when I explained where it was from and what the flavor highlights were supposed to be.
“Ben makes me feel good about myself,” Emerson said.
“Like, in my head, I’m just a hot-mess hairstylist trying to hold things together and support my kids.
He goes on about me being a kick-ass business owner, a rock star mom, that kind of thing.
He makes me feel like I’m a better me, if that makes sense.
” Emerson shrugged, seeming embarrassed as she picked up another foil strip.
“Yes,” Chloe said. “Holden does that too. Like, the things we don’t give ourselves enough credit for, they point out how we’re nailing it.”
“West makes comments about how I don’t let anything stand in my way. I’ll do something because it’s what I need to get done, but he points out that I ‘do the hell out of it.’” I melted the way I did every time he complimented me like that.
“None of that sounds like just lust, my friend,” Willow said.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” I said, feeling slightly panicky. “Love? Seriously. Foreign concept.”
Willow laughed. “That’s how it is the first time.”
“And the second,” Emerson said. “Maybe even more so the second time.”
I looked to Chloe, because she knew me better than anyone, and in fact, she’d been so similar to me. Until Holden.
“Any idea how he feels?” Chloe asked.
I grinned. “Pretty sure he likes when I’m naked.”
Everyone laughed and made indecent comments, which made us laugh harder.
That. That was the sisterhood. It felt amazing, even if the topic was freaking me the hell out.
“It sounds like you and West need to have a heart-to-heart,” Emerson said when we calmed down.
“You want me to just blurt out to my contractor that I might love him?” I asked, trying to make light of this scary topic.
“I know what’s going on in your head,” Chloe said. “You’re all about controlling as much as you can in your life. Emotions aren’t always in our control.”
“Especially not the L word,” Emerson added.
“I don’t know how to do love,” I told them. “I don’t know what happy looks like.”
“Hello.” Chloe waved as if to say right here .
Emerson waved too with the biggest smile, which spoke of her blissful, first-year-of-marriage state.
“And Rowan,” Chloe said.
“She and Chance are so cute,” Emerson said. “I can’t wait to see him with a newborn.”
“Your parents screwed you up in your head,” Chloe said matter-of-factly, “but there are healthy relationships all around.”
I thought about that day at the Honeysuckle Festival with all the crazy-in-love Henry siblings and nodded.
“So say I figure out I’m in love with him. How do I tell him? When do I tell him?” I asked, wondering who could draw me a diagram.
“If he says it first, it’s pretty easy,” Willow said.
“And if he doesn’t?” I asked.
Chloe met Emerson’s gaze in her mirror, looked at Willow, then shrugged. “You’re smart,” Chloe said. “You’ll know when it feels right.”
I wasn’t sure what I felt for West was love, but I had a sneaking suspicion it might be.
He made me feel protected, cherished, and cared for. Even though we were different in some ways, I could be myself with him. We just meshed well whether we were installing flooring, entertaining his kids, or getting naked. I liked nearly everything about him. Loved?
Maybe loved.
I sure as hell didn’t like the amorphous phrase when it feels right .
I was a numbers girl at heart. Black-and-white. Definable. Profitable versus in the red. High-quality coffee versus crap.
When it feels right?
I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around that nonspecific concept. And honestly? I wasn’t sure if it would ever feel right to tell West I’d broken the unspoken rules of our secret fling and fallen in love.