Cherry Bomb (Brighton #1)

by Carmel Rhodes

  “Okay, time for a hard one.” Jenny leans forward, her elbows braced on the tops of her thighs. “Have you reached out to her yet? Your mother?”

  I look at my watch. “Sorry, Doc. It’s time for my shift.” I stand and adjust the cotton-poly dress that smells faintly of stale beer.

  Jenny huffs but doesn’t press. “Same time next week.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  I make the ten-minute drive from my therapist’s office to the steakhouse. Marco is at the hostess stand, showing the new girl how to work the system. “You’re late,” he says not bothering to look up, “and on your last day of work.”

  I roll my eyes. “I found my own replacement,” I say pointing to Sunnie. She needed a job and I couldn’t handle juggling school, INVIGOR, and the steakhouse anymore.

  “Now if I can just learn the goddamn system.”

  “Don’t worry, customers are patient. You just have to show them your boobs.”

  Sunnie looks down at her chest. “I’ve got good ones.” She turns to Marco and winks. “All natural; at least, they look like they are.”

  “I’m going to regret hiring you,” he groans. “Show your sister how to run the program, and I swear to God, if she shows anyone her tits, she’ll be out of a job.”

  “Party pooper.” Sunnie fake pouts as he stomps away.

  “Don’t actually show people your boobs, okay?”

  “Fuck off,” she says punching me in the arm.

  I run down the system one more time and man the hostess station while she seats a couple in the dining room.

  “Reservation for Davidson,” a familiar voice says.

  I look up into his crystal blue eyes and grin. His strong hand grips my neck, and he pulls his mouth to mine as he leans over the hostess stand and gives me a very NSFW kiss. I open for him, granting his tongue access to my mouth, and he takes his fill.

  “You two always have to make it weird, don’t you?” Arden says, coming up behind us. She fidgets with the cross hanging from around her neck. Her white sundress is demure, almost angelic.

  Cash blushes, beaming at her. “Sorry, love.” He holds up a corsage with the most stunning red rose I’ve ever seen. “I got you this.”

  She smiles shyly at him. “It’s a sorority event, Cash, not prom.”

  “Well, it’s my first father-daughter thing…ever,” he says. “I wanted to cover my bases.” A few of Arden’s sisters and their fathers enter behind them. Cash offers her his elbow, and she takes it.

  “Wait,” I yell, digging in my apron for my phone, “let me take a picture.”

  “That’s weird,” Arden groans.

  I lick my thumb and pretend to smooth down her hair. “Just one, dear,” I say, mustering my most motherly voice possible.

  “You’re a fucking bitch,” Arden says, but I can hear the smile in her voice. It is weird sometimes, me and Cash, so to offset the weirdness, I make inappropriate jokes.

  Sunnie returns and takes the group to the Garden. The smell of grilled meat wafts through the air. The faint scent of summer lingers. I wander out into the Garden and watch as Cash and Arden laugh about something one of her sorority sisters said. He catches my eye and winks, reminding me that even in a room full of people, he will always see me. My heart swells, knowing I’m not alone in this world. It’s the reminder I need today.

  But that’s Cash. He always knows what I need, even when I don’t know it myself. I surrender to his love. I used to think that surrendering was for the weak. That it was a byproduct of failure. But it’s not. Surrendering is strength. It’s putting myself out there, being vulnerable. It’s breaking myself so that I can paste the pieces back together, stronger. Fortified with the lessons I’ve learned.

  Cash

  THE DOOR CLICKS SHUT BEHIND me and I drop my keys and briefcase at the door. “Cherry Girl,” I yell into the otherwise quiet house. The space is still…too still. It’s never this quiet here anymore. Cherry’s usually plopped in front of the couch with her laptop, typing furiously away at whatever project she’s working on.

  I spot it and a can of room temperature Diet Dr. Pepper on the coffee table. A pair of trainers are discarded underneath. Loosening the knot on my tie, I make my way towards the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Babe,” I try again, “are you nearly ready?”

  Our bedroom door is ajar. I push my way inside. Natural light spills in from the open bay window. Our bed looks untouched, the blankets and pillows artfully arranged in the same way I’d left them this morning. I toss my tie aside and slip out of my loafers, padding my way across the floor and over to the master bath.

  The lights are dim, and candles flicker like fireflies on warm summer nights. My girl is submerged in bubbles; jasmine and amber fill the air. She slowly lifts her head and smiles at me. “You’re home.”

  My chest expands. My heart pounds against my rib cage. It feels like I’ve waited a lifetime for this moment, and yet, all my waiting and all my planning couldn’t have prepared me for how I’d feel. “I’m home.”

  She adjusts, water and bubbles slosh over the side of the tub. “I figured when you texted me that you were running late, I’d have time to take a swim in your tub.”

  “Our tub,” I correct.

  “Ours.” She blushes. We officially moved in together a month ago. She’d spent most of her time here anyway, and now that she graduated, there really wasn’t a reason she needed to live so close to campus. It’s been an uphill battle getting her to see this place as ours. I’d offered to find a new place, one she felt more comfortable in, but she declined. She said this house felt like home.

  I sit on the edge of the tub, and she settles into position by my side. Her big gray eyes find mine and she smiles her patent Cherry Valentine grin. It’s equal parts seductive and mischievous, and my dick takes immediate notice.

  “Tell me something, Cherry Girl, something I don’t know.”

  She inhales, then lowers her gaze. “I hacked into the INVIGOR servers and deleted that report you had to stay late to redo.”

  “What?” I ask, staring down at her like she’d just confessed to murder. Actually, I think I’d prefer that. Cherry helped build the INVIGOR servers, and though she doesn’t work there anymore, Logan brings her on as a freelancer annually to help update them. “But that resulted in me having to cancel a dinner reservation that I had to make a month in advance, and I’m pretty sure you shaved ten years off of Logan’s life expectancy.”

  “I didn’t want to go to dinner,” she says, lifting up on her knees, granting me an unobstructed view of her sudsy tits. Suddenly, I’m not angry anymore.

  “Why didn’t you just say that?” I reach forward, pinching one hard nipple between my knuckles and twisting. Her face contorts in pleasure and her lips part.

  “You seemed so excited about tonight, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

  The ring box hiding in the pocket of my trousers feels like a brick. “I am excited about getting to spend the night with you. Birthdays are important. They should be celebrated,” I say carefully, trying to suss out if she’d somehow discovered my plans to propose at dinner, and is trying to subtly tell me to slow down. “I just thought it would be nice to make it special.”

  A smile breaks out on her beautiful face. “I have an idea on how we can make tonight special.”

  “How so?” She stands, and I come face-to-face with her cunt. My name is tattooed just above the neat little thatch of hair covering her mound. She’d gotten it one night while she was out with her sister and my daughter. I was furious when she’d first shown me, angry that some wanker had gotten so close to her pussy, but as soon as the anger subsided, I realized how bloody sexy it is.

  “I want to celebrate my birthday with special daddy kisses, not at a stuffy restaurant with overpriced entrees.”

  I lick my lips, turning so I can grab a handful of her ass, and rub my nose across the tattoo. “Let me get this straight, you broke into the INVIGOR servers and deleted a report it too
k me two hours to redo, just so that I’d eat your pussy?” At least she has the decency to look contrite. “Why not just ask?”

  “Because I knew you’d tell me to wait until after dinner and that my patience would be rewarded. It’s my birthday. Fuck patience.”

  I can’t argue with her logic, so I stand and help her out of the tub. “Grab the sink,” I whisper in her ear. She turns to do as she’s told, and I drop to one knee behind her. I wait, trying to bite back my grin, as she wiggles her ass in my face. After about thirty seconds, my impatient girl turns around with a huff. She spots the ring in my hand and tears pool in the corners of her eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making tonight special,” I reply.

  “I’m such a dick,” she giggles through her tears.

  “Yes, you are,” I say, “but I am madly in love with you.” She drops to her knees. Her fingers tangle in my hair and her lips crash into mine. “I didn’t ask you yet.”

  “The answer is yes. The answer has always been yes. I think I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you sitting in my section, looking like a fallen god.”

  “You’re kind of stealing my thunder here, Cherry Girl.”

  She presses her lips to mine once more. “Sorry.”

  “I wish I could have talked to him about this,” I say. “I wish he could see the woman you’ve become, but I know he’d be proud. He told me as much, the one time we met.” Her eyes flare, and she pins me with a questioning glance. “He asked me to keep an eye on you for him. I felt like the world’s biggest tosser,” I say recalling the memory. “Anyway, he said you were becoming the woman he always knew you could be. That’s why he didn’t want to tell you he was sick, because he didn’t want to derail your progress. That he’d caused you enough bad, and only wanted to give you good.” Cherry sucks in a shaky breath as I continue. “This ring isn’t only about keeping my promise to him, it’s about keeping my promise to myself. I moved to Brighton in search of family, and I said that if I was able to find it, I’d hold on and never let go. I promise you here, today, that I will never let you go.”

  “Never.” She shakes her head and extends her hand. I slide the ring on her finger as light pours in through the window. Cherry looks towards the light, as warmth and love fill the bathroom. “I love you, Dad.”

  I don’t believe in signs, but even I can’t deny this one. I turn toward the light. “I’ll promise to keep her safe for you.”

  The End.

  If you liked Cash and Cherry, then check out Logan and Emma's story in Midnight Kiss. Here's a sneak peek!

  Emma

  WE ALL HAVE SECRETS. SOME of us are just better at hiding them than others. I buried my secrets in Glenhaven, the small Midwestern town where I grew up. I thought I could keep them hidden away in a tiny compartment in my mind, safe from judgmental glares and scandalized whispers. I thought I could exist in the shadows, become another nameless, faceless college girl.

  I thought wrong.

  “Why are you running, Little Mouse?” My back straightens as the deep baritone gets closer. I glance left, then right, but see nothing. The sun has long since set. It’s late, a little after midnight, and too dark in the damp alley to see anything clearly.

  My breathing slows, and a shiver runs down my spine. Even in the warm Brighton air, his presence chills me. From the corner of my eye, I spot his shadow move under the streetlight like ink on night.

  The reason he hates me is a mystery. He doesn’t even know me. We’d only just met earlier today, when he came into the restaurant where I work and berated me for…well, for breathing.

  I press my back against the hard brick wall, hoping like hell I meld into the night. We were at the bar down the street. My work friend dragged me along after our shift. I thought it would be fun to let go for one night. What I hadn’t expected was for the asshole who treated me like gum on the bottom of his loafers to stumble in drunk.

  “I bet you taste as innocent as you look.” The dirty words he’d whispered in my ear play on loop in my brain. “I bet you take a cock like a pro.”

  Dirty. Evil. Vile. Beautiful.

  Logan Gregory is the devil in human form. He’s the kind of entitled you read about. The kind who run the world with an astonishing lack of empathy, an obscene amount of wealth, and an aura that screams I have a big dick, even if they don’t.

  I’d be willing to bet that Logan isn’t overcompensating for anything.

  He walks with a swagger that could only mean he’s got steel between his legs and he knows exactly how to wield it.

  He’s a handsome devil, I’ll give him that. Six foot something. Thick brown hair with sun-dyed ends. Eyes that can’t decide if they’re green or hazel. All of it wrapped in a suit that costs more than I make in a week.

  Stepping from the shadows, he advances. Long, lean legs eat the distance between us, and before I know it, his chest is pressed against mine. “You haven’t answered my question. Why are you running?” His voice is low and thick with hate.

  After his third lewd comment, I’d decided it was time for me to go. Cherry, the girl I’d gone out with, seemed to hit it off with Logan’s friend, Cash, so I’d hightailed it back to my car, acutely aware of the wealthy bastard following behind me.

  I can’t fathom what I could have done to him to make him detest me so much, but here we are, in the dark, damp alley behind the restaurant, him, the menacing cat, and me, the cowering mouse.

  “Why are you chasing me?” I bite back, playing into this strange, hate-hate relationship developing between us. “I’m off the clock. You don’t get to boss me around.”

  His eyes, greener under the fluorescent lamp, shine with mirth. “I get to do whatever I want.” He traps his bottom lip under a row of pearly white teeth as he contemplates his next words. “And I think you like it…me bossing you around. I think it makes your pussy wet.” A rough hand slides up the bottom of my dress—a black, standard-issue Brighton Steak & Brew uniform—and two thick fingers slip into my embarrassingly wet center. Sucking in a sharp breath, the scent of gin and spicy cologne invades my nostrils and clouds my judgment.

  My subconscious self watches helplessly as my past and present tango. I’m eighteen again and back in the Midwest. Back in the Dario house, and Vincent Dario is lifting the skirt of my school uniform.

  I wanted him to. Despite him having a wife and young son, I’d been desperate to feel him inside me. A princess who fell in love with a monster. I fell for his sweet words and for his sad story and for his firm hand. I thought our secret was safe, but what’s done in the dark always comes to light. Our sleepy world discovered the affair, and I was branded with a scarlet A and labeled a whore.

  I moved to California, dressed up the sexual deviant—who’s inexplicably attracted to bad—in cardigans and pastels and tried to forget about Vince. It worked for a while. I enrolled in a new school, in a different time zone, kept my head down and my legs closed.

  In Brighton, I’m the good girl, not the homewrecker. But my gut tells me Logan is about to bulldoze the carefully crafted image I’ve created.

  What’s worse, I’m going to let him.

  I lift up on the tips of my toes and press my lips to his jaw.

  “Why is your pussy so wet, Little Mouse?” he asks, with a grin, pumping his fingers in and out of my core.

  “Because I have a weakness for evil men,” I tell him, breathless.

  Mr. Dario was a monster, but Logan…he’s the devil.

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  Caleb, thank you for reminding me that this job is supposed to be fun. I love you. For
ever. Always. QB Tyler, I’m so grateful that I get to go on this journey with you. You keep me sane. You keep me humble. You push me to do better. Love you friend. Geranda Smith, you keep me in line. You keep me writing. I couldn’t do this without you. Rookies: Helen Wilder, Kelesy Cheyenne, Harlow Layne, Erica Marselas, Danielle James, Rose Croft, Gemini Jensen, Melissa Spence, Alexis Rae. A girl is nothing without her gang, Thank you for all the love and support. Lori, Suzan, Erica, Kelly: BEST BETAS IN THE WORLD. Seriously, your input has molded this idea that lived inside my head into a story. I’m beyond grateful. Denise Reyes, I am so thankful for you and everything you do. Jenette Emmerson, you slay every task I’ve ever given you. THE BEST GRAPHICS a girl could ask for. Stacey Blake, You never stop blowing me away. Thanks for making my book babies beautiful. Kristen Breanne, you help turn my stories into books. Judy Zweifel, you make my words sparkle. The Army: Ride or dies. I do this to make you guys proud. Readers: Thank you for going on another journey with me!

  Writer of words. Mother of Joy. Wife of Compassion. I like to write stories about real people who go through real struggles and come out the other side stronger. I also like to write smut. Welcome to my brain. It’s a little screwed up, but always well intended.

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