Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
It should piss me off. Offend me at the very least.
Instead, his attention makes me feel…definitely not offended.
Is Cash into me? Am I into him?
No. Definitely not. Although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the tiniest bit flattered by the idea that he’s physically attracted to me.
Then again, that makes the fact that I’m attracted to him that much more dangerous.
Let’s be real, though. There’s zero chance we’ll hook up. I don’t want to stay on the ranch, but I also don’t want to be reckless with its future. The more I learn about the place, the more I recognize how essential Cash is to its operation. I lose him, I lose the ranch. Period, end of sentence.
I sip my beer. “Frisky Whiskey is really good.”
“Best cover band in South Texas, no question.” Cash’s eyes reflect the red and blue lights of a nearby Bud Light sign. “That’s how I got that concussion, dancing to their cover of ‘Cotton Eye Joe.’ ”
“Back when you were fun,” Wyatt says wistfully. “I miss those days.”
I screw up my face. “Cash was fun?”
Wyatt sips his Shiner Bock. “Hard to believe, I know.”
“I’m still fun.” Cash crosses his arms, beer dangling over his taut stomach. The pose makes his biceps strain against the sleeves of his T-shirt. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Maybe it’s the biceps. The beer. The band.
The nagging question in the back of my mind—why is Cash here? Did he come to blow off some steam? Or did he come to keep an eye on me?
For whatever reason, I feel like egging him on, even though I shouldn’t.
I really, really shouldn’t.
“But you’re not dancing,” I say.
“Running the ranch without me because I’m in the hospital with another head injury is not a risk you wanna take, City Girl.”
“Worth the risk to see you shake it for me, Country Boy.”
Cash’s turn to screw up his face. “I hate that.”
“See? Stupid nicknames suck.”
His lips twitch. “Fine. You got me there, Mollie.”
“Told you, Cash.” Heart thumping, I loop my arm through his. “Now let’s go dance.”
CHAPTER 14
Cash
WORST WAY
Fuck me if Mollie ain’t fine as hell.
She’s tan from a day spent outside.
She’s drinking Shiner Bock at my favorite bar in the world.
She’s wearing a tiny skirt and crop top. Legs for days. Bare arms, bare shoulders. Big smile.
She’s singing the words to my favorite George Strait song.
Maybe that’s why I let her lead me to the stage. The music is loud enough that I feel the beat reverberate inside my breastbone. Patsy’s really going for it on the drums. Don’t blame her. Looking after us all, she’s got a lot of tension to work out.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Wyatt watching Mollie and me. He tilts his head the tiniest bit.
Don’t be a dick.
Tallulah also sends a look my way, a knowing smile on her face as she fills a frosty glass at the tap.
I haven’t taken someone home in a while. With everything that happened first with Garrett and then with Mollie, I’ve been too tied up—too beat up—to make the effort.
Probably why I feel so keyed up with Mollie on my arm. She smells good, the perfume she’s wearing somehow sweet and sexy. Hint of vanilla. Another hint of something floral and pretty.
This was a bad idea.
Coming to The Rattler and having a beer with Mollie was a really bad fucking idea.
I need to leave. Immediately.
But then the song ends, and Mollie throws up her arms. She lets out a loud holler that puts a big old smile on Sally’s face.
It also captures the attention of every guy in a twenty-foot vicinity. Several shamelessly stare at Mollie, a few of the bolder ones even moving closer. I see the Wallace boys in the mix. Wonder if anything ever happened between Beck and Sally. And where the hell is their sister, Billie? She’s good at keeping them in line.
My grip on my beer tightens. This is why I’m here. Last thing I felt like doing after a long day on the ranch was getting dressed and going out. But I didn’t like the idea of Mollie getting hit on left and right by local drunks who get a little too handsy after a couple of drinks.
Wyatt is too distracted by, well, everyone to watch over Mollie. Sawyer’s back home, putting Ella to bed. And Duke and Ryder, they’re too busy trying to get laid to keep tabs on our new owner.
As usual, it’s up to me to keep everyone safe.
“Thank y’all,” Patsy says into the mic. “Always fun to cover the king himself.”
“You’re a rock star!” Mollie says.
John B holds up his hand. “Ain’t she, though?”
“I’m already a fan for life.” Mollie gives him a high five. “Your girls are so talented.”
He beams. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”
“This next one is for Cash Rivers.” Sally glances at me before taking a swig of her margarita. “Since we haven’t seen him for a minute here at The Rattler, figure we’ll welcome him with one of his favorites. Y’all enjoy.”