The Off Limits Rule: A Romantic Comedy (It Happened in Nashville Book 1)

It’s been two weeks since my cliff-jumping adventure. A lot has happened in that time.

I got a job! Well, not so much me as my mom who called in a favor with one of her friends who called her friend who called her cousin who got me a chair at Honeysuckle Salon. Nashville may be a big-time town now, but if you grew up here, those roots run deep, and everybody’s mama knows everybody’s mama. It’s always good to be on the mamas’ side, because they are the ones running this town.

I actually really like Honeysuckle Salon. The stylists are all sweet ladies who seem pretty down to earth and not the kind to get catty or stir up drama, and the aesthetic is beautiful. The floors are a cream marble, and all of the salon chairs are made of expensive light-brown leather. The fixtures are either gold or brushed brass, and there’s some sort of lemon oil diffusing in the room. It’s definitely not Steel Magnolias in here. Best part is, I don’t even have to put Levi in daycare because my mom retired last year and has been able to stay home with him every day for me. It’s like an enormous boulder has rolled off my back, and I’m able to breathe again for the first time in a year.

Yep, everything is great being back home. Drew and I have been hanging out after Levi goes to bed, watching movies, and—OKAY, YEAH, I’M GOING A LITTLE CRAZY BECAUSE COOPER HASN’T TEXTED AT ALL! And I’ve been racking my brain every day for these past two weeks, wondering why he never responded to my text. It was a nice text, a heartfelt message that went something like this: Aw, great video! Super fun day.

Good, right? If only I’d left it at that. But then, I just had to go and text him again because I’m not a normal human and should just hide in a hole for the rest of my life.

Lucy: Seriously. Just want to say thank you for today. Jumping off that cliff was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, and it helped me realize I need to be more adventurous and step out of my safe box more often. It was nice being challenged by you, and I think you’re a really great guy. Maybe you could challenge me more often 🙂

I know…it’s bad. Painful even. Cringe-worthy. DESPERATE. No wonder he never responded. He’s probably been too busy packing up his house and moving across the country so his new stalker, Lucy, can’t find him and cut a lock of his hair to keep under her pillow.

I don’t even know why I did it. I’m not normally the type to spill my guts to a guy like that, but something about Cooper makes me temporarily lose my mind. As such, it’s probably a good thing he hasn’t texted or come around at all. Who knows what I would do in person? Best to just focus on my work, which is where I am now, sweeping up a pile of hair from my last client and preparing to clock out for the day.

Jessie, the salon owner, my new best friend, and an all-around sweetheart, walks up to my station. “Hey, Lucy, do you have time to squeeze in a last-minute cut?”

To be honest, my feet are killing me, and I’d like to go home, but I’m also trying to save every penny I have to get my own place sooner rather than later. Drew is amazing, and I know he doesn’t mind having me, but still…a single guy doesn’t want his baby sister staying with him forever. And I get tired of having to wear a bra.

“Anything for you, sunshine.” I’m not even sucking up. Jessie and I sort of hit it off from the minute we met last week. After my interview, she and I went out for margaritas (hers a virgin because she’s five months pregnant) and talked until the restaurant had to kick us out. I learned over dinner that Jessie is not married or even in a relationship, so there is a story there with her pregnancy, but I figure she’ll tell me when she feels comfortable.

“Thank you!” she says, looking relieved. “It’s a men’s cut, so it shouldn’t take too long, and your shirt is kind of see-through in this light, so you’ll probably get a great tip.”

I gasp and look down. “What! It is not!” Shoot, it is. You can see my pink bra right through my black-and-white striped tee. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?!”

She laughs. “Why are you freaking out? Look around this room—you’re the most modestly dressed woman in here.”

She’s right. Another stylist is wearing high-waisted dress pants and one of those fashionable sport bras. Another is wearing a sundress with a plunging neckline. And me…I’m wearing distressed jeans and a striped t-shirt. I’ve come to terms with the fact that in a room full of J.Crews, I’ll always be a Target. I love Target. Let’s see J.Crew try to sell delicious soft pretzels in their store.

The door of the salon chimes, and Jessie and I both swivel our heads to see who entered. I kid you not, life turns to slow motion, and “SexyBack” by Justin Timberlake starts playing over the speaker as Cooper James steps through the door. The sudden burst of air tosses his wavy locks around his attractive-as-sin face, and he pulls his sunglasses off, making his arm muscles flex under the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp, white button-down. Every single woman in the salon notices. Our jaws are collectively hitting the floor, and I’m sure he can count each of my fillings, because for as good as Cooper looked without a shirt, he looks almost more incredible wearing one—and nicely tailored business attire at that. I think it’s because the fabric strains against his chest and biceps, whispering a tantalizing secret of what’s underneath, daring you to find out if it’s true or not.

He pauses in front of the reception desk, and his aqua eyes rise, cutting across the salon.

I drop to the floor.

Not in a swoon, but more of a hit-the-deck sort of way. I hunker down, rolling up into a tiny pathetic ball behind my rolling cart of hair products because HE CANNOT SEE ME.

Jessie looks down at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. She’s never met an animal like me in the wild. “What are you doing?”

“Shhhh, don’t draw attention to me! Look over there. No! Stop. You’re still looking at me!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m worried I might need to throw you in my car and drop you off at the closest mental health facility.”

“Mental health is not something to joke about.”

“Who says I’m joking!” she says in a loud whisper.

I rise up slightly to peek over the hairsprays. “What is he doing here?”

“Hmm…getting his oil changed?” When I look up at her with hope in my eyes, she looks like she’s going to smack me upside the head. “What do you think he’s doing here?! Getting his hair cut, crazy lady! And he’s probably the guy who called and requested you.”

“Me?” I ask, like maybe someone else is standing right behind me that I don’t see.

“Yes, you. Do you know him?”

“No. Yes. No. I mean, kinda. He’s my brother’s best friend, and I sent him a humiliating text message the other day that he never responded to, so now I can never show my face around him again.”

“Like a nude photo text?”

I give her a face that says Do you really think I’m the type to send a nude photo? and then I gesture toward my childish position on the floor just to really drive the point home.

She chuckles and waves me off. “Yeah, never mind, don’t know why I asked that. So, let me see it.”

“What?”

“The text. I’ll tell you if it’s actually bad or just in your head. And if it’s all in your head, you can go cut his hair without having to worry about it.”

I think about it for a split second before reaching in my back pocket and pulling out my phone. I swipe it open and hand it over to her. At this point, I can see that the receptionist has asked Cooper to take a seat in the waiting area and is beginning to walk toward me. Her eyes catch me squatting down on the ground, and I give her a Keep it moving, Melissa gesture. With only a slight falter to her steps, she walks past me toward the break room.

I look back up in time to see Jessie stifle a laugh with the back of her hand while reading my text.

I quietly moan and lean my head back against the cart. “It’s that bad, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. You might want to just have your mail forwarded to this little corner you’re in from now on.” She hands me back my phone, looking like this is the most amusing thing she’s ever encountered. “It’s even worse seeing him in person. He’s super-hot. Definitely used to smooth women.”

“Ughhh, you’re the worst friend.”

“Technically, I’m your boss.”

“Oh great. Now, I’m doubly embarrassed.”

She laughs and nudges me with her sneaker. “I’m kidding! Okay, look, it’s bad, but it’s not horrendous. There’s a chance he thought it was sweet and endearing.”

“He would have responded.”

“Yeah…but I’m trying to make you feel better because he’s seen me talking to you now and is headed over here.”

“NO!” I say, feeling panic race through my veins. I look left and right for an escape and then up, directly into Cooper’s smirking eyes. I shoot up from the ground like a bottle rocket, pretending to clutch something in my hand and holding it over my head. “Found it! Ha ha! Silly me, Jessie, it just rolled under the cart. Oh, hi, Cooper! How long have you been here?” My voice would match a high C on the piano.

He knows I’m full of crap. He ignores my question and looks cool as a cucumber as he grins and asks, “What’d you lose down there?”

“Huh?” I’m trying to buy some time. Maybe I’ll suddenly find out I’m a magician and can pull something incredible from my back pocket. Like a bunny.

“You said you lost something—just wondering what it was.” He crosses his arms, eyes glinting—challenging.

“Oh you know…just a…flafflehem.” I say that last word while coughing into the crook of my arm. “So anyway! You here for a haircut?”

Out of nowhere, the other stylists materialize beside Cooper. Their eyes are extra wide and blinky, and they’re puffing their boobs out so far I’m afraid one is going to bounce into my face. “You were just getting ready to head out, though, right, Lucy? I’d be happy to take him for you if you want?”

Oh really, Tiffany, would you be happy to take him for me?

Cooper looks over to her and smiles politely—or is it flirtatiously? Does he think she’s sexy in her business sports bra? That thought suddenly makes me stomp the ground, making one loud BAM so that Cooper looks back at me. Honestly, I’m just as startled by my actions as they are. I don’t know what happened; I just know I felt the overwhelming need for him to NOT be looking at her. Looks like I’m going to be the one to bring a little drama to this salon.

Cooper’s eyebrows rise, and I smile sweetly and stomp lightly a few more times, also rubbing my leg. “Foot fell asleep. I hate when that happens.”

Jessie is behind Cooper, shaking her head and trying not to dissolve into a fit of laughter because she can’t believe someone is truly as awkward as I am. Little does she know, this is only scraping the surface.

“Well, thanks for all the concern, everyone, but I’m good. I have plenty of time to cut his hair, so there’s no issue! Thanks, yeah, bye-bye,” I say, trying to shoo them out of my space, but really, I want to whack them with a stick. Go on now, get out of here! There’s nothing here for you!

I turn to face Cooper and nearly fall over when I realize his eyes were on me that whole time, a soft grin tilting the side of his mouth, an indiscernible look in his eyes. Reserved and intrigued. Sort of like he either wants to pin me against the wall and kiss me into oblivion or help me do my taxes.

More than likely, whatever attraction I think I’m seeing is just wishful thinking.