by Jamie Begley
The Pastor had barely started his sermon when a loud shot rang out. The pastor’s voice came to a stop as he stared, open-mouthed toward the door.
Brooke released a scream as her brothers, each carrying a rifle, came to the front of the church, all three aiming their rifles at Cash.
“Cash Adams, we have some talking to do!” Tate yelled.
“What do you want?” Cash didn’t seem worried about being cornered by her brothers.
Rachel wanted to warn him that her brothers only picked up their guns when they were ready to shoot.
“I heard you knocked up my sister!” Greer roared.
Rachel paled, getting to her feet.
“What are you going to do about it if I did?” Cash taunted.
The man had lost his mind. Rachel frantically started fighting her way out of the pew.
All three of her brothers pointed their guns at him, but it was Tate, as head of the family, who spoke.
“You’re going to marry her and make her your wife. Then, we’re going to make her a widow.”
As Cash laughed in their faces, Rachel barely managed to step in front of him before her brothers filled him with holes.
“Tate, Greer, Dustin, go home. I’m not pregnant!” Rachel yelled, wanting to hide. The whole church was witnessing her embarrassment. She’d thought Mrs. Langley’s party had been humiliating, but that couldn’t touch this horror in the making.
“That’s not what you told me,” Mag hollered from a few feet away. “Told me I needed to live for my great-grandbaby.”
Rachel’s mouth opened and closed like a landed fish.
“Is that true?” Tate demanded.
“Yes… but I lied. I was trying to save her life,” Rachel confessed, sending Mag an apologetic look.
“So, you’re not pregnant? You’re sure?” Tate asked skeptically.
“Of course I’m sure.”
“You’ve been careful?”
Rachel turned brick red. This was going beyond the realm of what her brothers needed to know.
“No, she’s not. We haven’t been using any protection,” Cash admitted.
“Yes, we have,” Rachel snapped. ”I went on the pill.”
“When? You didn’t tell me.” Cash lost his casual attitude. He actually seemed angry she had taken steps to prevent getting pregnant.
“Because I don’t think that your belief that you can’t get pregnant standing up, or in water, or if the weather is too hot is actually considered—”
“You don’t actually believe that you can’t get pregnant standing up, do you?” Tate inquired while Greer and Dustin looked at her in pity.
“No, I didn’t—”
Again, she was cut off. “I told you to let me be the one to give her the girl talk. This is your fault, Tate,” Greer accused.
“No, it’s not. I know I explained sex well enough that she shouldn’t have believed you can’t get pregnant if you’re in water.”
Rachel ground her teeth, losing all patience. “Shut up! Go home!”
“We’re not leaving until he marries you,” Tate answered with Greer and Dustin’s vocal support.
“I won’t marry him. I’m not pregnant!” Her voice rose in embarrassment.
“You might as well marry me; they aren’t going to believe you.” Cash’s amusement had her wanting to commit blasphemy in front of the pastor and the entire congregation.
“If you’re not pregnant, then you are coming home with us,” Tate ordered.
“I’m not coming home with you; I’m moving in with Cash,” she refused.
“Hell no, you ain’t! My sister ain’t living in sin.” Greer cocked his rifle.
“Greer, stop it.”
“Are we having a wedding or a funeral?” Tate prompted.
“Rachel, I love you.” Cash’s words drew her attention to him.
Rachel believed him, or she would never have agreed to move in with him.
“I think that’s a good start to our courtship.” She took a step toward him.
“Courtship’s over. We’re going to see he marries you before the baby’s born,” Greer argued.
“I told you, I’m not pregnant.” Rachel planted her hands on her hips, practically stomping her foot.
“You will be,” Cash promised arrogantly.
“Do you want to die?” Rachel asked him shrilly.
“No, what I’m trying to do is get married.”
“Wait, you want to get married?” Rachel asked in confusion.
“Will you wash my clothes and fix my dinner?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s do it. Dean’s here. Why not?” He turned to look at Pastor Merrick. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Pastor Merrick replied with a broad smile.
“Will you marry me, Rachel?”
Rachel saw the sincerity in his eyes.
“Yes, but I’m still not going to marry you tonight.”
“Is there anyone not here that you want?”
Rachel looked around the huge crowd. “No,” she admitted.
“Is a dress important to you?”
“No.”
“Then why not?”
Rachel let a smile tug at her lips. He had set this whole fiasco up just to get her to say ‘I do.’
“Let’s get it done, then. The baby needs his father.” Rachel reached out, taking his hand. Then he pulled her closer to the altar.
While her brothers stood by with their guns in hand, Rachel stared down at Mag in the front row. She had tears running down her cheeks.
Cash stood next to her, his expression triumphantly arrogant.
She hid her smile, listening to Dean begin their shotgun wedding. Her hand squeezed Cash’s. Her mama hadn’t raised an idiot. If Cash wanted to marry her bad enough to do it in front of the whole church, she wasn’t going to say no. A wedding dress and a traditional wedding would have been nice, but ultimately, it was the man who was the most important. Besides, there hadn’t been anything traditional about their courtship so far. If he wanted to believe he had caught her, she wasn’t going to disabuse him of the notion.
Dean’s words drew her attention back to the ceremony.
“Rachel, do you take Cash to be your husband?”
“I’ll take him,” she said out loud, adding to herself, and never let him go.
Epilogue
Cash was riding home when he saw Tate’s truck. Slowing down, he turned into his homestead property. Cutting his motor, he got off his bike before going up the steep hill that led to the graveyard. He found Tate standing by their parents’ graves.
Cash stood silently by his side until Tate broke the silence.
“It was a fucked-up situation.”
“Yes, it was.”
“I keep thinking that there had to be a reason they didn’t end up together,” Tate said in rumination.
Cash had lost his faith long ago, thanks to Saul Cornett. The crazy-ass pastor had used the Bible to excuse his sadism. He didn’t believe in coincidences, either, but the chain of events that had led to him returning to Treepoint after vowing not to return had him questioning his belief in both.
If he hadn’t asked Shade’s father to check on Beth and Lily during his travels, then none of The Last Riders would have ended up making Treepoint their home. Four of his brothers and now him had found their women.
Cash stared down at the graves of Tate’s mother and his father side by side in death.
If Lily hadn’t been sitting at the table with the information they’d needed, they would have been too late. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of people would have lost their lives. Maybe that was the reason Tate was looking for. He didn’t know.
What he did know was he had Rachel, and he was a selfish enough bastard to enjoy his happiness. His father had screwed up cheating on Rachel’s mother; he would never be that stupid. Cash knew what he had, and no other woman’s pussy was worth losing his hot-tempered vixen.
“You ever going to tell
her you and Greer deliberately pissed her off to get her to move out?” Cash questioned with a quirk of his lips.
Tate looked at him sharply.
“Greer was just a little too obnoxious. You’re an ass, but you wouldn’t have embarrassed Rachel in public like that without reason. Besides,” Cash shrugged, “I know you saw me leave that night. You would have confronted her if you hadn’t planned to use it to your advantage.”
“She still mad?” Tate’s voice was hoarse.
“I think it still hurts her. Tell her the truth,” Cash told him.
“That I did it to force her to live her own life?” Tate said wryly. “I tried to talk to her when she came home from the university, but she just told me we needed her. She never wanted to admit she was homesick, even when she sold her property to pay for those online classes instead of taking that full, paid scholarship. Rachel turned it down because she would have to leave home. She’s a homebody; she doesn’t like to be uprooted.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Tate smiled. “She’s a handful. When are you going to tell her you bought her property back from Drake?”
“When she tells me she’s pregnant,” Cash replied, his expression hard.
Tate laughed. “You’re doing your best to tie her down.”
“I figure, by the third kid, she’ll settle down and quit being so skittish.”
“Good luck with that. Our mother drove my dad and yours crazy. Neither succeeded in really winning her. Rachel is the very image of her. Has she even told you she loves you?”
“No,” Cash admitted. “But I have a plan for that,” he retorted smugly. “I know your sister better than you think.”
Tate shook his head. “Bullshit. If you had, it wouldn’t have taken nearly getting killed to see what you lost.”
“I bet you weren’t any happier when you and your brothers woke up to find her gone after your performance.”
“I underestimated her. I thought she would move into town, not take off without telling me where she was going.”
“We both learned a hard lesson where she is concerned. The only thing I don’t understand is the night she ran home through the woods. Why didn’t you tell me to get away from her? You just left,” Cash asked.
While Tate remained silent, Cash sensed his struggle. “I’ve watched how The Last Riders took care of Lily and Beth. Knox became Sheriff to make Diamond happy. Viper took care of that asshole who hurt Winter. You take care of your women. Rachel will not only be protected by you, but your club. I don’t have to worry about her anymore since she’ll always have someone at her back if something happens to me and my brothers.”
Cash stared at Tate’s grim profile. Tate would have been stupid not to realize the danger they were in, dealing the weed they grew.
Tate turned away from their parents’ graves. “I told you when you called to tell me Rachel was pregnant I would go along with your plan to marry her on one condition. I expect you to live up to your promise, Cash.”
“I’ll love her until the day I die,” he repeated the promise he had given Tate without embarrassment.
“See that you do. Because, if I catch you mistreating my sister, I’ll whip your ass.” Tate turned to leave.
“Tate… thanks,” Cash said and meant it, thanking the man who had pushed Rachel in his direction.
Tate turned back, staring him in the eyes. “You’re welcome. Want to stop at Rosie’s for a beer?”
Cash accepted the peace offering. “Sounds good.”
* * *
“You ready?”
“Yes.” Rachel smiled teasingly. “How do I look?”
Cash’s eyes raked over the black booty shorts with the black bra. “I like it, but I don’t know how much I’m going to like the brothers’ eyes on you,” he warned, already planning on how soon he could lay his hands on that ass of hers.
Rachel walked to their bed, picking up the black lace dress. She pulled it over her outfit. The lace was tightly woven so all you could see was the dark material under the lace. Just like that, she’d gone from sexy to smoldering.
“Let’s go. I have a surprise for you.”
She caught his arm before they left their bedroom. “Cash, I…” She bit her lip.
“Vixen, nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want to happen, okay?” His finger smoothed her frown away. “You have a little wild in you, you know that?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she admitted.
“Don’t be. All this is mine.” Cash put his hand on her hip, bringing her flush against his dick. “My vixen likes to play, and I like to watch her play, but if you don’t, that’s fine, too.”
After Rachel nodded, they left. They rode in his truck to the clubhouse. They hadn’t been back in the last two weeks since they had married; Cash had wanted to wait for his surprise to be finished.
He drove into the parking lot, stopping the truck. Then he took her hand after helping her out. Instead of leading her up the steps toward the clubhouse, he led her to the factory.
“Why are we going inside the factory tonight? I’ve been begging for the last month to see it.”
“I wanted to wait until the new addition was finished.” Cash led her toward the back of the factory, opening a door and turning the light on to the new room which had been built.
Her shocked gasp had him searching nervously for her reaction.
“Do you like it?”
“I never expected… this is amazing.” She walked around the huge room, touching the different equipment. She lingered in front of the ten different-sized tanks that were set up, ready for her use.
“I’ll never want to leave,” she whispered in awe.
“You like it?”
She looked at him like he was crazy. “How could I not? The university doesn’t have anything this advanced.”
“The catch is you now work for The Last Riders.”
“I’ll get a salary? To do what I was doing for free?”
Cash nodded. “We can help you expand in the areas you want, to offer assistance to countries that need clean water, if that’s what you want.”
As her expression softened, Cash’s breath caught in his chest, his heart beating rapidly.
“I love you.”
“It just took ten fish tanks to get you to admit it,” he said, bending down to kiss her.
“No, it just took you.”
Enjoy an excerpt from Cathryn Williams’s book
Stand of Redemption (Stand, #2)
Chapter 1
Ria looked at her tear filled eyes in the mirror, and forced herself to take deep breaths. She blinked several times, trying to keep from crying while desperately hoping with each blink the revealing redness would go away.
She couldn’t afford to be fired from another job. She was barely making enough as it was. She was finally able to pay for her closet-sized, one bedroom apartment. Although, she had made drastic cuts in every aspect of her life to do so.
Ria looked down at her body; she had lost another five pounds. Food was an added expense, and she didn’t allow herself to eat more than one meal each day.
After a few deep breaths and strengthening her resolve, she looked at her face again. Her nose was still a little red, but at least it didn’t look like she had been crying. She looked into her own brown eyes and saw the despair in them.
She looked back down at her shirt to see the smudged fingerprints from the man who had grabbed her breast when she’d leaned toward him to pick up his beer mug. She had wanted nothing more than to bash the mug over his head; however, she needed this job to keep a roof over hers and her mother’s head. So now she simply had to put a smile on her face and act like everything was fine.
She shook her head and took one more deep breath. She could do this until something better came along. She wouldn’t be working as a waitress in this shithole of a bar forever.
She looked at her tight, white tank that zipped up the front and left he
r entire midriff exposed. She was also wearing a short, dark denim skirt that showed the bottom of her ass cheeks, along with a pair of red cowboy boots. The waitresses were allowed to wear whatever they wanted, as long as they showed plenty of cleavage, ass, or both. It was Saturday night and she wanted the bigger tips; therefore, she was showing both.
It had paid off; she was getting the extra money she was hoping for and a lot of attention from the male patrons. The pitfall to that strategy was she had to put up with every man she waited on feeling like he had the right to touch the flesh she exposed.
The man that had grabbed her was an asshole, yet he reeked of money. She wouldn’t touch the fucker if he had a million dollars. He was one of those rich guys that believed he could do and get away with whatever the hell he wanted. She would love to have proven him wrong, but when she had looked up, she’d seen her boss watching; hence, her decision to step back and play it off like it was nothing.
He had laid a hundred dollar bill on the table to pay for their drinks. Ria had swallowed her nonexistent pride and reached across the table to pick up the money. That’s when his hand had cupped the bottom globe of her ass. All the men sitting with him had laughed and leered at her, obviously enjoying watching her breasts as she struggled out of his grip.
She had seen groups of men like them before, most of them wearing wedding bands. They would tell their wives they were working late when, in reality, they were at a place like this where they’d brag to each other about who’d scored the most women. Ria was willing to bet the only time any of them got laid was when they bought their wives an expensive gift, though. Married or not, she couldn’t imagine any woman giving it up to one of those jerks for free.
She didn’t bother wasting her time complaining to her boss. He wasn’t going to lose a penny over an irate waitress. He would fire her before offending a paying customer.
Ria sighed. She had lingered in the bathroom, feeling sorry for herself, long enough. It was time to get her ass back to work.
She gave her appearance another once-over in the mirror, adjusted her long black hair into a side ponytail, and let her hair cover the tan skin of her breasts as much as possible. She then pulled her skirt down a little more to hide the view of her ass. She better get the tip she deserved for putting up with the men for over the last two hours.