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Logan hurried to his mom’s hair salon, The Sassy Scissors. Heads turned as he pushed through the door. While his mom, Rosie, was a great hairstylist, she swore she was booked most all the time because women of all ages came in to ogle him and his brothers who stopped in often.
“Hey, sugar. You’re late.”
“Sorry, Mom. I had a meeting.” He gave her a peck on the cheek and sat down in the chair at his mother’s station.
She snapped the cape over him and, as usual had it a little too tight. He ran his finger under the neck to give himself a little more room. She pulled her scissors out of their sheath. “So, what are we doing today?”
Logan usually wore his hair short, but he’d been so busy lately, it’d gotten kind of long, definitely scraggly. “Go short.”
She ran the comb through the chestnut hair he’d gotten from her and started snipping. “So, how was the committee meeting?” she asked, grinning.
“You’re kidding, I left there not five minutes ago. How’d you know?”
“It’s Magnolia Bay, honey. Word gets around. And there is such a thing as social media.”
He loved Magnolia Bay, would never want to live anywhere else, but honest to God, did anyone ever mind their own business? “Speaking of social media, I’m all for it, but I don’t get this Pinterest shit.”
“You’re a grown man,” his mom said, waving her scissors at him, “but you don’t say shit to your mama.”
“Sorry. But do you know about the Magnolia Bay bachelor auction page? It’s ridiculous. It—”
“Sure would earn a lot of money for Miranda’s mama’s foundation, and that’s a good thing, honey. Besides, I’ve seen the hotties page; it’s not that bad.”
“I’ve seen those hot bods too,” Ms. Chatham, who was eighty if she was a day old, said. “Liked and pinned the page. Even printed out a few of the extra hunky ones.” She waggled her eyebrows at Logan.
“It’s bullsh—” His mom narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s bull, but I got roped into doing that stupid bachelor auction because of it.”
“I’d bid fifty dollars on you,” Ms. Morrison said. “I would be eating cat food for a month if I won. But, I bet you’d be worth it, sonny.”
“Rosie’s sons are hot,” Ms. Farley, who had at least ten years on Ms. Chatham added. “If Harold and I hadn’t been married for sixty-four years, I’d risk eating cat food for a date with one of them. Maybe even a little tongue action.”
“Jesus, Mom.” At the last family dinner, his brothers had complained to her about the rampant sexism at the Sassy Scissors.
“All right, ladies tone it down a bit, you’re making Logan here a little uncomfortable.”
“Sorry, honey,” Miss Morrison said, “but we’re old, not dead,”
“We’ll behave ourselves,” Miss Chatham, waggled her eyebrows for the last time.
“Jesus,” Logan hissed.
“They’re old, honey,” his mom said in a low voice, snipping the hair around his ears. “They see you or one of your brothers, and it makes their day.”
“Can we change the subject?”
His mom smiled and got back to work. She ran her hands through his hair and cocked her head to the side as she studied the way it laid. “So, I hear you’re sniffing around Miranda Hamilton.”
First thing you learn growing up with three brothers is how to play dumb. Because the last thing he wanted was the salon circuit abuzz about him when they’d been laser focused on Trent and Darcy’s upcoming New Year’s Eve wedding.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please. I saw the mayor at church yesterday, and she told me you made that big donation to Miranda’s mama’s charity. Even asked to be co-chair of that Christmas committee your Aunt Daisy and Aunt Camellia have run for years.”
“What is it with you people?” First Miranda and now his mom? “Maybe I’m just doing my civic duty.”
“Your brother, Tanner, was the one who always volunteered for everything, not you. But you have always been the one who once you figure out what you wanted, there’s no stopping you from getting it. Besides, you know I adore Miranda, and I loved her mama like a sister. God rest her soul.”
“This will be the last time I try to be a good citizen.” His mother took the cape off and gave it a good shake. He stood and hugged her. She was only five four and hit him dead center of his chest. “Thanks. Love you, Mom.”
She pulled back and smiled up at him. “You like her, you keep after her, son. Don’t you let her wear you down.”