Chapter 31 #2
I was on the porch, unlocking my door, when I overheard Sophie say, “She looks like a princess in that dress, Daddy.”
As they crossed the threshold into their house, Jake’s voice seemed to carry, marking my skin with goosebumps.
“Yeah, she does.”
I scurried inside my cabin, heart pounding and hands shaking, and overturned three drawers in my dresser in my rattled attempt to find my old bag with all my hair-cutting supplies inside.
The one I’d cut my dad’s and Chad’s hair with for most of my life.
No cupboard door was left unturned before I finally found it hidden under the sink in my small bathroom.
And then I kicked off my shoes and paced the floors, touching everything and nothing, trying to calm my breathing. Something whispered that we might be different people by the end of tonight, and the thought got stuck in my chest, making it hard to catch a full breath.
It smelled like rain when I had gathered enough courage to step outside. The starless night made seeing difficult, so I set the kitchen chair on the grass near my porch lights and dragged a plastic lawn chair closer, using it as a table for my things.
Jake’s screen door slammed shut. I didn’t look up and instead concentrated on the soft crunch of the grass beneath my feet, helping to ground me in something real. I grabbed the scissors out of my bag, and when he drew closer, I gained the courage to look at him.
He’d changed and was wearing his usual shorts and a t-shirt. And his cowboy boots. His stride was sure and strong. And he was looking right at me.
And then I knew…no matter what happened tonight, whether I’d be moving or not, he would keep me safe. My feelings would be safe with him. My heart would be safe.
This was Jake.
He stopped before me, his hair rumpled and messy, as though he had just run his hands through it. His dark eyes were on mine, exasperation in their depth.
“You planning to torture me all night wearing that dress, Tuck?” His low voice skittered over my skin, causing my breath to catch.
My heart might be safe with him, but my jitters didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. I needed to get a hold of myself. I was acting like a skittish newborn calf. Wobbly and afraid of my own skin. That wasn’t who I was anymore. At least, that wasn’t who I wanted to be anymore.
Not with him.
So I raised my chin and answered. “Maybe.”
He stared at me for a long moment, but still, he said nothing.
I cleared my throat and motioned to the chair. “Sit.”
His eyebrows raised as he took in the chair in the grass for the first time. “Oh. We’re really doing this?”
“Huh?”
A tiny smile crept across his face just then. “Nothing.”
“Didn’t you want a haircut?”
“Yup. I did. This is great. It’s perfect, actually.”
“Huh?” I said again.
But his smile only grew broader as he sat down on the chair in front of me.
“How fast can you cut? It’s going to rain,” he remarked pleasantly, as if we had all the time in the world, and I wasn’t moving away in three days.
“I told you. You’re the one who dragged us out here.”
He breathed out a soft laugh but said nothing.
“I’ll hurry,” I added.
To be honest, the way my hands were trembling, it would be dangerous to hurry. I pulled out the kitchen apron stuffed at the bottom of my bag, cringing as scissors and clippers fell out. When I moved to put them back in my bag, more things fell out, to my growing agitation.
An amused Jake bent over and helped me retrieve what he could, meeting my gaze as our fingers touched when he passed me a pair of scissors.
Suddenly, I was annoyed at the way my heart seemed to be bleeding in front of him, and he was as cool as a cucumber.
I concentrated on the knot in the strings of the apron.
“I thought you said you were going to hurry,” he remarked, watching me.
“I’m trying to untangle your apron.”
“I don’t want it.”
I looked at him. “Why?”
“It itches my neck.”
“The hair will go down your shirt.”
Before I knew what he was about, Jake leaned forward, his hands at the base of his shirt. I watched helplessly in both horror and delight as he peeled his shirt off his body and leaned back.
Very shirtless.
It was then that we felt the first few drops of rain.
“Maybe you should…wear the shirt at least,” I said, trying to keep my eyes on his hair and not trailing downward.
“This again, Tuck?” His voice was lit with challenge and lined with amusement.
I only scowled.
“Does it bother you?” he asked, goading me.
Physically? Not one bit. Emotionally? Very much so.
“Yeah. It does,” I declared to his growing smile.
“Well, maybe you should go put something on over that dress, then.” I met his eyes briefly before flicking them away, the warm teasing in his gaze turning my heart into mush.
“I just think it’s funny that, after all our lessons, you still don’t know what this is.” Jake leaned back in his chair, arms folded, and stared up at me in amusement.
Stared up at me like I should know something obvious.
In an instant, Jake had turned the tables so effortlessly. I didn’t know what this was exactly. I wondered. I hoped. I fretted. But Jake hadn’t told me anything, even while he seemed to think I should know.
But until I knew what this was, indifference became my shield. I lifted my chin and shrugged.
“I’m fine,” I said, attempting a teasing tone but falling flat. “I cut hair on half-naked men all the time.”
His eyebrows raised delightedly. “Really?”
“Yup,” I lied.
We stood at a standstill, our eyes waging a battle as we each contemplated our next move.
I swallowed as I watched a trail of tiny raindrops slide across his cheek.
I replaced the apron in my hands with scissors. His seat on the chair left me much more eye level than I was comfortable with. I filled my fingers with his wayward locks at the pretense of measuring. It was coarse to the touch, but still soft somehow. I was reminded of our first lesson.
I drew in a breath through my nose, gathering courage before I trailed my fingers lightly along his shoulders as I moved behind him, feeling satisfied at his stiffening back.
Normally, I’d use clippers to do most of the cutting, but in my anxious rush to get outside, I hadn’t grabbed an extension cord. And I wouldn’t be ruining the moment with another trip inside. Scissors it was.
I worked in silence, starting at the back of his head, losing myself in the act of making even cuts, despite the energy humming between us.
His eyes weren’t watching me back there.
My fingers worked deftly, eventually losing their tremor.
The rain picked up, saturating my dress and doing who knows what to my hair, adding to the reckless mood that settled over the evening.
Using the back of my hand, I wiped the trails of water from the side of my face.
My hair had been long and silky at the rodeo, but I could feel the water slowly curling the edges.
But I couldn’t bring myself to move faster, enjoying the feel of my fingers in his hair without him watching.
I grew bolder in this strange element of time and space, where I convinced myself that I had the confidence to take liberties, enjoying the way he seemed to slowly melt into my touch, his head tilting forward, letting the water run off the tips of his hair.
He sat up straighter when I finally felt brave enough to move in front of him. He lifted his head, though his eyes remained closed, like he was anticipating this moment and needed to protect himself. He wasn’t ready for a relationship.
That was what he was going to tell me.
He might like me, but he wasn’t ready. I could see it all now.
His jaw clenched as I stepped forward between his legs for closer access. All I knew was that when I stopped cutting, stopped moving, he would break my heart.
So I kept cutting.
I took my time gathering his hair into my fingers—pulling, tugging, swooping, grazing his skin each time. He sucked in a breath through his nose. Finally, he reached up and grasped my hand, pulling it down.
“I know what you’re doing, Tuck.” He tried to keep his voice light, but his body was rigid, and his gaze kept drifting upward to my hair.
Our faces were so close.
“Why’d you give me your hat tonight, Jake?” I whispered.
Suddenly, I needed to know. The state of limbo was a terrible state to live in. I wanted to act and react. I wanted to push the boundaries and to challenge all the what-ifs between us. I wanted to be brave. I wanted, just once, to see what it felt like to have Jake’s undivided attention.
“Your hair’s curly,” he said, ignoring my question but swallowing hard as he took me in.
I lifted a hand to my head to check the damage. It was bad. A combination of wet and natural frizz had already taken its toll. Dropping the scissors onto the grass, I took a step back, intent on using the hair tie on my wrist to put the beast away, when Jake held out a hand and stopped me.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Putting my hair up. I—“
But the words stalled on my lips as his finger reached out, tugging gently on a curl.
“Don’t.”
I froze, waiting. All summer, I’d been working to slowly re-invent myself.
Smoothing out some of my rough edges. I liked the progress I’d made over the past few months—clothes I felt good in, a little blush and makeup, but my hair had been the biggest outward change.
The change that everything else hinged on.
Nobody noticed the little things when untamed red curls were taking over their view.
Just like the untamed wild thing that used to grace the streets of Eugene.
But now, with the way he was looking at me, I wondered if I’d had it all wrong.
“Why’d you give me your hat?” I asked again.
He blinked, but before he could speak, I spoke again, overcome with things I wanted to say to him. Things I never thought I could say. Things I never thought he’d want to hear me say. But I had to know. And now seemed as good a time as ever.
“Are you on the table, Jake?”