She sucked her lips between her teeth as her gaze focused on the ends, sliding them between her fingers before she snipped off the first bit.
I had to close my eyes for the rest.
“Did’ju get a degree in hair-cuttin’ over the last ten by any chance?” I asked when she was still snipping a few minutes later.
She shook her head, lips still clamped together as she concentrated on each tiny cut.
Sweet Jesus, I was regretting this decision already.
A second later, she seemed to be finished, tugging on my beard for a brief moment before she took to trimming that with her little scissors from hell.
I nearly stopped her, clasped on to her dainty little wrist and everything. “Good girls don’t touch the beard without askin’.”
Her eyes widened, a devilish glint lighting her eyes before she pursed her lips and purred, “Now who said anything ’bout bein’ good?” Her flirty eyes locked with mine. “Your beard needs a trim, Fallon. Do you mind?”
I narrowed my eyes, assessing her seriously before lowering my hand in defeat. “Some old guy a few towns ago told me I acted too damn old for my age.”
She paused, scissors hovering just out of the line of fire. “And you think that may be about the beard?”
I shrugged, thinking it as possible as anything else.
“Well, I don’t think it was necessarily the wild thing you’ve been growing on your face that he was talkin’ about. But trimmin’ it up a little would probably be a good start to losing that—” she tipped her head to one side “—hobo thing you’ve got going on.”
I pushed a hand through my beard, frowning once before deciding to explain its existence a little more. “Started growing the beard the day I left Nashville.” I averted my eyes out the window, rain droplet tracking down the pane. “Figured it was a good way to disguise my face after…everything.”
“Everything,” she breathed, snipping away at the edges of my beard. “Does everything include that fling you had with Tanner Smith?”
I couldn’t help the eye roll then, picking Augusta Belle up off my lap and depositing her on her feet before stalking off into the bathroom to wash the whiskers from my face.
“And?” She cocked her hip against the doorframe, watching me intently in the mirror.
“You knew about that from…wherever you were?” I attempted to deflect, but she wasn’t having it.
“When Nashville’s biggest star has a high-profile relationship with Hollywood’s next It Girl, it gets around.”
My face tilted up at the memory.
It had looked pretty bad from the outside.
“You understand where the beard comes in, then?”
She shook her head, walking slowly to me. “No, not really.”
“Well, the thing about Tanner and me… The label wanted to put us together on a single. They set up a few meetings, a dinner, and every damn time we were together, the press was always there. Every time. I didn’t think much about it then. I was new, thought it was normal, but then the press started running these headlines about Tanner and me dating. And we weren’t at all. It was strictly business.” I turned, sliding a hand around her shoulders and pulling her a little closer to me. “I was still so hung up on you I couldn’t think straight.” I gnashed my teeth, thinking if she’d never gone away, none of this would have had a chance to happen. “I tried to get the label to squash the rumors, but it wasn’t long before I realized they were flaming them, calling in the fucking paparazzi to make sure we were tomorrow morning’s Page Six news.
“That’s why I left the industry. Couldn’t stand it anymore. It wasn’t about the music. It was about the money.”
Augusta Belle wrapped her arms around me in the biggest hug her little arms could manage. “I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted it to be.”
I swallowed the familiar old burn of Nashville, pushing the bitterness aside for something brighter. “But I’m happy as hell now. Livin’ on the road is where I’m meant to be. Performin’ small rooms, meetin’ the people who come out to see me.”
“Yeah, but still, kinda sucks. Everyone wants to make it big in Nashville, and you did, but then you got there…” She shook her head, empathy coloring every feature. “I mean, who needs Nashville at all? You just need a recording studio, a little money put together, and get a band and some equipment.”
“Not really room for that in the cab of my truck.”
She threaded her fingers with mine. “Maybe not there. You could do it out of the house in Chickasaw Ridge.” She squeezed my hand, hopeful.
“Ain’t goin’ back there. Besides, said yourself you want to put it up for sale.”
