by Jamie Begley
Rachel gritted her teeth at his smartass reply. “I mean, why aren’t you at the clubhouse?”
“I’ve been away from Mag for so long I thought I would stay with her for a few days. I don’t know how long I’m going to last on that broken down mattress, though.”
Rachel poured her coffee. “I believe it was one of her flea market finds.”
Cash grimaced, carefully folding his sore body into a chair at the kitchen table. “Did you forget about mine?”
Stifling the urge to tell him to get it for himself, she got another cup and poured his coffee before setting the cup down in front of him.
She picked her cup up and turned to leave the room.
“You’re not going to stay and keep me company?”
“No. Where’s Mag?”
“She had a doctor’s appointment this morning. Her neighbor took her.”
“Oh, she didn’t mention it yesterday.”
“I guess she forgot.”
Rachel left the room, going to the back room of Mag’s house that had been given to her to take care of the new clippings she had collected. It didn’t have as many windows as the greenhouse at her brothers’ house, but it had the advantage of not being at their house.
“Wow, how many plants do you have in here?”
Rachel began watering her plants, rotating from the ones she’d watered yesterday. “Over one hundred twenty-six.”
Cash walked farther into the room. “Any weed?” he joked.
“No. If you want that, you’ll have to go see Greer.”
“No, thanks. He would probably lace it with cyanide,” Cash said mockingly.
“No, he wouldn’t. He would just lace it with cat shit.”
Cash’s mouth dropped open. Rachel had to choke back her laughter. She would take a bet The Last Riders would be finding another source for their weed. It would hurt, too, because her brothers might be assholes, but they produced the best-tasting weed in the state.
He reached out a finger to touch a fragile plant. “What’s this?”
“Pipewort.”
“If you’re so interested in plants, how come you didn’t go on to college?”
“I did, for two semesters. I didn’t like it. I’m taking a few classes online now, though.” Rachel didn’t tell him how far she had actually progressed with her degree; it wasn’t any of his business. She wasn’t about to fawn all over him just because he showed a sudden interest in an important part of her life.
She had been gradually moving down the row, watering the plants until she came to him. Rachel looked at his lean body without a shirt, with loose-fitting jeans, and felt absolutely nothing. She lifted her clear eyes, staring him in the face steadily until he moved back, burying his hands in his pockets, so she could continue watering her plants. If he’d thought she was going to see his body and melt in a puddle at his feet, she had just proved him wrong.
She didn’t try to make conversation with him, although she did answer his questions with monosyllabic replies.
“Rachel, I want to apologize for the way I acted the night of Mrs. Langley’s party.”
It took Rachel a second for his apology to set in, then another to get the meaning of what he was saying.
“I’d like us to start over, maybe go to a movie or out to dinner.”
She quit watering the plants. “Why?”
Cash cleared his throat. Was he pretending to be unsure of himself? Rachel didn’t think Cash had ever felt unsure of himself.
“Why do most people go on dates?”
“I know why most people go on dates, but you don’t. You pick the girl up, drive her to one of your spots, have sex with her, and then bring her home. It’s the same thing you always do.”
“That’s not true. I’ve—” Cash denied.
“Name one woman you’ve bought a burger for? A steak dinner? You can’t, can you?”
Cash’s mouth snapped shut.
“I didn’t think so. The most you’ve treated your women to is a picnic lunch Mag packed for you. I don’t even know why I called them your women; you’ve never laid claim to a woman, yet you’ve taken more than your fair share,” she said with a mocking voice.
“You have a really low opinion of me, don’t you?” Cash’s eyes searched hers.
Rachel gave him her honest answer. “I don’t have any opinion of you at all.”
He winced at her reply.
Once upon a time, she would have jumped at the thought of dating Cash, thinking she could be the one to change the bad-boy biker. Now, she felt nothing; absolutely nothing.
“I’m not a bad guy.”
“No, you’re not,” Rachel agreed. “You’re just not the guy for me.”
“How do you know if you don’t give me a chance?”
“I don’t need to stick my hand in a fire to know it’s going to hurt like hell,” Rachel replied mockingly.
Cash picked up a tendril of her hair that had escaped her ponytail, pulling it taut. “Sometimes, the best way to fight fire is with fire.”
She shivered at the warning in his voice. He was telling her that he couldn’t forget them having sex any easier than she could. Her nipples tightened under her t-shirt while she masked her reaction.
“And sometimes, the best thing to do is just pour a bucket of water over it.”
* * *
Cash stood, looking down at Rachel, his throat tightening. The young girl who had been in the background of his life for years was gone. Now, in her place, was a beautiful woman who stared at him with revulsion in her eyes. He had fallen off the pedestal she had placed him on, and there was no redeeming himself in her eyes.
She had excused his behavior as sowing his wild oats until he had taken her. Now, she saw herself as another woman he had used. Her witnessing him with Cheryl and Bliss had made her feel as if he had thought of her as one more conquest.
He turned away for a moment, staring down at one of the plants blindly. She had never been obvious about her feelings; she was too cautious for that. It had been the furtive, secret glances that had given her away.
He didn’t have to worry about protecting her from the lifestyle he led; she wouldn’t let him touch her now if he was the last man on earth. He had a big hill to get over with her, but he had come to realize she was worth it.
Cash liked that she didn’t take any of his shit, that she had a sexy as hell body, and she didn’t know it because she was more used to walking through the mountains than onto a dance floor. When he had fucked her, he had felt as if he was burning alive. He had been trying to recapture that same fire with numerous women since then. It was time to face what his body had been telling him all along and get to know the woman who had him by the balls.
He had faced insurmountable problems before. Hadn’t the past few months proven that? His doctors had told him he wouldn’t walk again, and he had proven them wrong. He would prove her wrong. He was the guy for her.
Rachel set down the watering can before going to the end of the row where she began potting the seedlings, ignoring his presence. He might as well have been invisible for all the notice she took of him. He was used to the shoe being on the other foot. He didn’t know which bothered him more: the fact she didn’t care he was there, or the disdain in her face when she realized he was.
At a loss, he retreated to his bedroom. He tired easily and needed to be around the exercise equipment at the clubhouse, but he had wanted to spend the night here after coming to his decision. Finding out she hadn’t ignored his accident had been a game changer for him.
When he had regained consciousness and Shade had told him Rachel had returned to town, he had been relieved. It had taken away the worry that he would be responsible if she had become hurt. Rachel was a country girl. She’d had a difficult time remaining away from home just to go to college; how would she survive in the real world? Not only had she survived, but she had outsmarted her brothers and him.
Shade hadn’t found out where she had been those we
eks, and Cash wanted to know. Wherever it had been was an effective bolt-hole that he wanted beyond her reach. He had never failed tracking anything—animal, man, or woman—yet Rachel had eluded him. He wanted to close that avenue to her to make her less likely to run when he began his pursuit of her.
He had tried to do the gentlemanly thing and leave her alone, but what had it gotten him? Her hatred and a hospital bed.
Beth, Winter, Diamond, and Lily had all adjusted to their men’s lifestyle. Rachel could, too, with his care. The Porters believed they were the best hunters in the county, but the fact was, he was going to prove he was the best. He was going to catch a little fox that thought she was over him. She hadn’t had the real Cash yet, but she would.
Rachel will be in my bed before the end of the week, he thought confidently.
Chapter 16
“Would you like another piece of pizza before I leave?” Cash looked at Rachel balefully as she picked up her purse, preparing to leave.
“Where are you going?”
Rachel’s head tilted to the side, the wispy, red tendrils giving her a more sophisticated appearance. “Pastor Patterson is having an anniversary party for his wife. Do you want the pizza?”
“No, I don’t want the pizza,” he snapped, sounding like a whiney, little kid. His hands tightened on the arms of the chair he was sitting on in the living room. His grandmother was sitting in her favorite chair, pretending to watch her favorite game show, but Cash knew damn good and well she was listening to him make an ass of himself.
“Goodnight, then.” Rachel bent over the back of Mag’s chair, giving his grandmother a kiss on her cheek and treating him to a view of her tits practically pouring out of the top of her dress. He almost swallowed his tongue and had to sit lamely by as she glided out the door in her four-inch heels. When the fuck had she started wearing heels?
“You can put those eyes of yours back in that head. She’s gone.”
“Shut up.”
Mag’s cackle of laughter reminded him of why he didn’t stay with her often; a little of her went a long way. Combine that with his lack of sex since the night Rachel had seen him with Bliss, and he wasn’t exactly in the best mood.
Mag, being as old as God, sensed his predicament and showed no mercy, flaunting Rachel in front of him like a prized mare. The woman had a truly warped sense of humor.
He was forced to sit and watch television with her for the next several hours, his eyes going to the gigantic wall clock. Mag had told Cash that every minute she lived was a milestone at her age, and she wanted to be able to appreciate them. He thought the clock was the ugliest thing he had ever seen.
At eleven-thirty, his grandmother’s bedtime, she gave him an enigmatic smile as she rolled out the door.
Did preachers have parties this late? Cash’s fingers drummed on the arm of the chair as he contemplated calling Rachel’s cell phone, but then the key turning in the door had him pretending to be interested in the late-night talk show.
“You’re still up?” Rachel asked, closing the door.
“I wasn’t sleepy.”
“You need to get more exercise.”
He bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue about exactly what kind of exercise he needed. “I work out enough.”
She looked at him curiously at his sharp answer. “Oookay. Well, I’ll leave you to your show. Goodnight.”
He hadn’t sat there half the night to be blown off the minute she walked into the house. “How was the party?”
“It was fun. There are several new people who have moved into town that have started going to church. It was nice getting to know them. Beth brought the babies. They are so cute—”
“Any new men?” Cash interrupted her.
Rachel had been walking across the room, talking to him like he was one of her fucking brothers after being out.
“Yes, two. King hired them. One’s a chef and the other his manager.”
“Single?”
Rachel’s face lost her friendly expression. “I believe so, yes.”
“You going to chase after them like the rest of the women in town?”
“I’m thinking about it.” She narrowed her eyes on him, turning to face him fully.
“I wouldn’t if I were you, unless you want them to leave town before they have a chance to unpack.” He was tired of pussyfooting around her, trying to make amends for being a jackass. If he wasn’t careful, she would be in someone else’s bed while he was still trying to gain her forgiveness.
“You son of a bitch! You can go to Hell. You think you can sleep with me then have any woman you want, flaunting them in my face. Your attitude toward women sucks. I want a man who wants marriage and children. I want a house and four kids. I want a husband who, when he walks out that front door, I’m never going to doubt he’s mine. And I sure as shit don’t want you. I not only hate you, I despise you.”
She angrily reached into her purse, pulling out her cell phone. “If you want to relive old memories, call Sleeping Beauty; maybe she hasn’t woken up and discovered you’re an asshole.” She tossed him her phone.
Cash barely managed to catch the phone she threw at him. He felt each word slap him in his face, her hatred blasting at him from across the room as she left him with a look of total disgust.
Damn, he had forgotten calling Cheryl ‘Sleeping Beauty.’ Rachel was obviously not happy with his choice of nicknames. He had been a stupid prick fucking around with Cheryl. Damn.
He had forgotten the only piece of advice his father had ever given him, downplaying its importance as he had moved from one woman’s bed to another, not believing its value.
When he had been sixteen, he had broken his first girlfriend’s heart. It hadn’t bothered him, just made him impatient because she kept calling him. He had learned after that he didn’t have to say he was in love to fuck them.
His father had seen him hang up the phone, shaking his head.
“She won’t quit calling,” Cash had told his dad.
“She will.”
“Not soon enough,” Cash had said without pity.
“Son, make sure you want her to quit calling because a woman has a breaking point. She’ll stand by you if you kill someone, but when she finally reaches her breaking point, she’s done with you. There’s no getting her heart twice.”
“It’s not her heart I want.” His young, arrogant voice still sounded in his ears after all these years.
A sad look had come over his father’s face. “Make sure, Cash, or you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting something you can’t have.”
Chapter 17
Rachel was sitting on her bed, making notes on her computer when a knock sounded on her door.
“Come in.”
She thought Mag would open her door; instead, Cash stood leaning on her door frame.
“Busy?”
The pinched look on his face showed he hadn’t fully recovered from his accident.
“No, do you need something?”
A brief silence met her question before he answered. “There’s a swap meet going on in Jamestown. Feel like giving me a ride? I want to look for a new bike.”
Rachel started to mouth off and ask why he didn’t ask Bliss; instead, she slid off the bed and put on her shoes. He probably didn’t want any of his women seeing him when he wasn’t able to hold himself up much less them. Rachel blocked the image of him holding Bliss from her mind. She had been right; it wasn’t an image she had been able to forget.
In her car, Cash slid the seat back as far as it would go then leaned his head back on the headrest.
“Did you take anything for pain?” Rachel asked as she drove toward Jamestown.
“No. I would have smoked some weed, but I was too scared of what your brother put in it.”
Rachel stifled her laughter.
“I didn’t take you for a coward,” she teased.
“I’m not. I just don’t want to smoke cat shit.”
Not able to hol
d back, her laughter filled the car.
“You’re not going to tell me you were kidding around?”
Rachel took her eyes briefly off the road to see his head turned toward her. “Sorry, Tate and Greer are both vindictive a-holes.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Tate’s still mad over a girl dumping him in high school because he thinks she dumped him for me.”
“She did. He had saved his money to rent a limo to take them to prom. He hadn’t slept with her. He had planned a big night only to find out you had beat him to sleeping with her.”
“She told me he had broken up with her.”
“She lied,” Rachel informed him.
Cash remained silent the rest of the drive.
When Rachel glanced over again he was sleeping. His vitality was so overwhelming it was easy to look over the fact he was still healing from an almost fatal accident. Instinctively, she reached out to touch his arm but then drew back. She didn’t want to wake him needlessly.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel. The powers that had helped save his life were gone. She had prayed they would come back to no avail. She had used everything she had to bring him back. However, it was a decision she didn’t regret; she only wished she had it now so she could help with the pain he attempted to keep hidden from everyone.
Cash took his loss of strength as a weakness while she saw it a completely different way. Even without her help, he would have lived. Cash was a survivor who didn’t give up easily; his recuperation was a testament to that fact. He had proven the doctors wrong about his walking. Now he forced himself not to limp in front of others, but when he thought no one was observing him, he moved slower and with a slight limp. Rachel knew he wouldn’t stop until nothing other than the scars from his accident remained to remind him of his brush with death.
Cash woke as she parked at the packed motorcycle swap meet.
“Looks like every biker in three states is here,” he remarked, stretching as he closed the car door.
Rachel gazed at the rough looking crowd of men and women walking around, examining the motorcycles on display. Several were for sale and some were just being shown off by their owners.