by Dylann Crush
When her dad died, her life had fallen apart. She’d pieced it back together as best she could and moved on. That was the key, the moving-on part. She couldn’t afford to stick around or put down any kind of roots. Not in a place as small as Holiday. Roots had a way of growing out of control, like a weed. Before she knew it, they’d sprawl and tumble, snake around her neck, and practically choke the life right out of her.
She’d keep her end of the bargain and watch Kenzie next week. No need to go back on her word. But once Cash got back in town, she’d either need to have the money to get her bike fixed or buy that bus ticket. Before those roots started to grow.
Because she could already feel them taking hold.
* * *
Cash cursed himself for the umpteenth time since yesterday. Hell, every time he found himself in the same room with Jinx, he seemed to screw it up. What had possessed him to deep dip her and lay one on her in front of the Kissmas Cam? He could tell Kenzie had her heart set on him and Jinx getting together. At seven, she couldn’t see past the mermaid hair and the fun she was having with Hendrix around. But Jinx wasn’t the type of woman to settle in a place like Holiday, no matter how hard Kenzie wished for it. How could he protect his little girl’s heart if he couldn’t keep his own under control?
The training up in Dallas couldn’t have come at a better time. The break would do him good. Put some distance between the two of them. Give him a chance to get his priorities straight again. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along with the beat of some song he didn’t recognize. What the hell was that? Kenzie must have flipped the station this morning when she climbed into the truck. They usually listened to country, but this was some sort of psychedelic garbage. He pressed the preset button and let the steel guitar soothe his rattled nerves. He ought to have enough time to stop in at the station and wrap up some paperwork before getting Kenzie over to his folks’ house and heading to the Rose for his off-duty shift tonight.
A few hours later, he stood on the front porch of the Rambling Rose, checking IDs. Classes wouldn’t be out for the holidays for another couple of weeks, so the kids came in droves from San Marcos, Austin, and San Antonio. They thought some backwoods honky-tonk out in the sticks would be an easy place to sneak in with a fake ID. He’d already busted a handful of underage kids. It wasn’t too hard when the ID stated their hometown as Albuquerque and the frat boys didn’t have a clue how to spell it. One of the bouncers came out to give him a break, so Cash wandered inside to grab a water from the bar.
The band had the crowd on its feet. A combo of rockabilly, swing, and country blasted through the speakers. Bodies bounced and swayed along to the music. Cash estimated they were pushing their max occupancy based on the number of arms waving in the air and the sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. The temp inside had to be pushing ninety degrees.
He made his way toward the bar, fighting through a pulsing sea of limbs and torsos. When he got to the edge, a cold chill wrapped around his neck, squeezing his breath out, stalling his heart.
Jinx leaned over the bar, that damn micro tank top stretched tight over her chest. One of those kids who didn’t look old enough to drive, much less be sitting on a stool at the Rose, swept his tongue across her neck then slammed a shot of what Cash could only assume must be tequila. Before Cash could grab him by the back of his neck, he snagged the lemon Jinx held between her lips with his teeth. What the actual fuck? Cash pushed people out of his way, reaching the bar just as the kid slapped a twenty on the bar and called for another shot.
“We’re out of tequila.” Cash wadded up the twenty and pushed it at the kid.
“I don’t think so.” The jerk gestured toward Jinx, who held a full bottle of Cuervo in her hand and had just poured another shot.
Cash grabbed it off the bar, tossed it back, and slammed the shot glass down. “I said we’re out of tequila.”
“Hey, asshole—” The kid pushed a palm into Cash’s chest, but his buddies held him back.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jinx levered herself halfway over the bar to grab the collar of his shirt, jerking his attention from the kid being swallowed by the crowd to the cleavage spilling out of her tank top.
Air. He needed air. The sweat and stench of hundreds of bodies pressing close together made him struggle to take in a deep breath.
“Shep, cover me for a minute?” Jinx let go of his shirt and rounded the bar. She grabbed his arm and began to drag him down the hall. “We need to talk.”
Something inside him snapped. “You’re absolutely right.” He thrust his arm around her waist as they forced their way through the crowd toward the back hall.
Finally, they made it into the utility room. He slammed the door behind them, leaned up against it, and tried to shut the blaring music and chatter of the crowd out. Jinx rounded on him as he let her go.
“What”—she swatted at his chest—“in the hell was that?”
He caught her wrists, pulling her closer. “I saw that kid using you like a…a… Damn, I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know what got into me. What were you thinking?”
The fire in her eyes blazed. “I was making tips. Good tips. Enough to pay for my bike and get the hell out of here. Away from—”
“From what?” He had to know. What was she so afraid of?
“From this.” Her hands still caught up in his, she gestured around the room with her head.
“From this or from me?” He tilted his head down, trying to get her to meet his gaze.
She let out a sigh and, with it, the anger he sensed boiling underneath the surface. “What do you want from me?”
Well, shit. That was the million-dollar question now, wasn’t it? He dropped her hands and doubled over, pressing his palms to his thighs. “I don’t know. But I saw him sliding his tongue all over your neck and it…” He shook his head. How could he explain the white-hot rage that had flooded his system? It didn’t make sense to him—how could he have lost all shred of control?
Her hands clamped to her hips. “You don’t own me, you know. Yes, we have an arrangement, and I appreciate the place to stay, but what I choose to do on my own time is my business.”
“Your business?” Anger burned through his belly. He studied the tips of her motorcycle boots as his stomach ignited from within.
“Yes. My business. You can’t boss me around—”
He ran his hand down his cheek, rubbing the scruff on his chin. “Dammit. You’re worth so much more than that. Don’t you know how much…how special…hell, how important you are to…to Kenzie?”
“To Kenzie? This has nothing to do with Kenzie.”
His heart clenched. What the hell was wrong with him? He was being an A-1 douchebag, and he didn’t care. All he cared about was the feeling of utter helplessness when he’d seen that kid’s tongue meet the sweet skin of Jinx’s neck. He didn’t like it—the loss of control. It made him feel like he was losing his fucking mind.
“You’re an asshole.” She covered her eyes with her hands and turned away.
He deserved it. Taking in a deep breath, he put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re right.”
“Hell yeah, I’m right.” She dropped her hands as she whipped around to face him. “Wait, what?”
“I said you’re right. I am an asshole.” He tucked his thumbs in his front pockets and searched her face for the slightest sign of understanding.
Her head cocked to the side, the swoop of teal hair hanging down on the right side of her face. She lifted a hand and ran it over the shaved hair on the left side of her head, fiddled with an earring, and then pursed her lips. “Go on.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with me lately. I’m not myself. I’m… There’s something right here.” He closed his hand into a fist and pounded his chest. “I’m sorry. I’ll figure it out.”
“You’d better. Yo
u can’t just manhandle me. I’m not like one of those guys you can cuff and throw in the back of your truck.”
Cash raised his hands in surrender. “I know. I’m sorry.”
She straightened her shirt. “You better be. What I do on my time is up to me.”
“Up to you,” Cash agreed.
“That’s right.” She moved to stand in front of the sink, trying to put herself back together.
His gaze traveled over her, this stranger who’d infiltrated his life, dug her heels into his world, taken up space inside his heart.
“You’ve got no claim to me.” She nodded to herself in the mirror.
No claim. She was right. They’d almost gotten carried away on his couch once. And he’d kissed her under the mistletoe. That didn’t exactly constitute a relationship. His heart pounded, sending blood whooshing through his ears. He almost didn’t even hear himself speak. “What if I want one?”
Jinx’s hand hovered in midair. Her gaze met his in the mirror. “Want one what?”
He moved behind her so close he could smell the scent of her skin. “A claim.”
Chapter Fourteen
A claim? Her stomach tightened, twisting in on itself. Oh God, she didn’t do claims. She couldn’t.
“Stop it, Cash. You don’t mean it.” She studied their reflection in the mirror. His head bent toward her neck, and she could almost feel his lips on her skin.
“What if I do?” His breath tickled the spot where her neck curved into her shoulder. A shiver raced through her.
Her eyes met his. Desire and need simmered in their depths. Her heart surged in her chest. He couldn’t mean it. A man like Cash needed stability. He had a kid, for crying out loud. She wasn’t exactly stepmom material. How could she be with the kind of role model she’d had? No, her life would never mesh with his, not in a permanent or even semipermanent way.
“I can’t. I can’t give you what you need.”
His finger traced the feather tattoo behind her ear, then slid lower, down her neck and across her collarbone. “What is it you think I need?”
She tried to tamp down the ache pooling between her thighs. “You need someone you can count on. For Kenzie. Not someone who’s going to be out of here as soon as possible.”
Cash shook his head, nestling the scruff of his chin against the curve of her neck. Her hands grabbed the edges of the sink before her knees gave out.
“What about what I want?” His voice vibrated through her, his lips connecting, searing her skin at each point they touched.
She arched into him, her resolve scattering like ashes in a strong wind.
Want.
He wanted her. She could feel it through the front of his jeans, pressing against her backside. When was the last time a man wanted her? Really, truly wanted her? Would it be so wrong to give in? He was a grown man. Could make his own decisions. Live with the consequences of his actions. It wasn’t her job to protect him. Every time she tried to help someone else, it backfired. Maybe it was time to be selfish for a change. She wouldn’t be here long. Cash could pick up whatever pieces he needed to once she left.
She nudged into him, pressing her ass against his crotch. A low groan rumbled through his chest. He slid her tank up her back. Placing a hand on either side of her, he trailed kisses from her neck down between her shoulder blades. His lips continued down, over her bra strap, across her lower back, stopping at the edge of her miniskirt.
If he was waiting for encouragement, she’d give it to him. She lifted the edge of her skirt, shimmying it up over her hips. He stood behind her and met her gaze in the mirror. She nodded.
His hands left the edges of the sink long enough to unbuckle his jeans and slide on a condom. Then they were back, running over her thighs, slipping her boy shorts down her legs. Her breath caught as he reached a hand around her navel, his fingers tracing a line across her stomach, zeroing in on the apex of her thighs. As he entered her from behind, his fingers found their mark, and she bucked against him.
With her back at his front, he was in control, and she didn’t like it. She tried to spin, but his arm clamped around her middle. “Let me make you feel good. I’ve got you.”
She met his gaze in the mirror and stopped trying to take over. Gentle, tender kisses landed on her neck, her collarbone, behind her ear. He slowed the rhythm, barely moving, letting her feel each sensation as it hit her. When they’d almost hooked up before, it had been a relentless, erratic, heart-pounding frenzy. That was what she was used to. Not this slow, erotic dance. It was like he was taking pieces of her with him each time he pushed in and pulled back.
It felt like more. More than just sex. More than just a quick one-night stand.
She could do the fucking. But this, this pull on her heart, the tenderness, the connection…it was too much.
“Let go,” Cash whispered into her neck before rimming her ear with his tongue. His fingers caressed her, igniting a slow burn that glowed deep down inside.
“I can’t.” Tears burned behind her eyelids. She fought through the surge of emotion welling up inside her chest. What the hell was happening? Her body had never betrayed her like this before. Sex was sex. That’s all. She bucked against him, trying to increase the pace, trying to get him off so she could bury herself back inside her shell and avoid this terrifying feeling.
But instead of moving with her, he stopped.
“Jinx.”
She ignored him.
“Jinx, look at me.”
Reluctantly, she met his gaze. The kindness, the caring, the empathy shone bright in the dim light from the bare overhead bulb. That’s one thing she couldn’t stand. She didn’t want his sympathy.
“I can’t do this with you.”
“Just let go. I’ve got you.”
Eyes locked in the mirror, he moved against her. Gentle. So tender, it gutted her. She didn’t deserve this kind of attention. She couldn’t give him what he needed; he knew that. Why not walk away?
Her body hummed under his touch. The glow sparked, igniting a burn that coiled in her core, then began to spread. She stopped trying to reason with herself. Sensation took over. Cash’s hand on her breast, his breath on her neck, his fingers coaxing her to a slow, intense climax.
Like a wave that started a mile offshore, her release built, slowly rolling into itself until she couldn’t hold it back. It crashed over her, sending her reeling, so she couldn’t tell which way was up. She didn’t have a choice but to ride it out, letting each sensation dissipate until she felt herself floating back down.
Strong arms anchored her. “That’s it. Let it go. Give in to me.” Cash thrust, filling her, finally letting himself take his own pleasure.
She watched his reflection in the mirror. Muscles taut, his jaw slack, eyes closed as he came down from his own release.
This man, this good man, wanted her. When was the last time someone cared enough about her to fight for her attention? Never.
“You okay?” He nuzzled into her neck.
For once in her life, she didn’t feel the urge to pull away first. “Yeah, actually, I am.”
His gaze met hers in the mirror. “It’s going to be okay, Jinx.”
She nodded. Maybe she owed it to herself to explore this new feeling. To see if she could be the woman he wanted and needed. At least for a little while, until she left Holiday and everyone in it behind.
* * *
“You look pretty darn pleased with yourself.” Jinx slung her bag over her shoulder while Cash held the door open for her.
Something had shifted between them tonight, like she’d decided to stop fighting the attraction and give in to it. Truth was, he was pretty darn pleased with himself. After the quick stint in the utility room, she’d burrowed into him. The hard shell she’d coated her heart with had cracked, and he felt like he’d been given special access to a buried
part of her. Now he had to figure out how to avoid screwing it all up.
With his arm draped over her shoulder on their way out of the Rambling Rose, he figured they were off to a good start. She hadn’t shrugged him off yet, not even when Charlie had raised an eyebrow at them while saying good night. Progress was progress.
He led her around to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door, another first. Not that he hadn’t tried before, but she’d always scrambled ahead, opening the door for herself.
“I am pretty pleased with myself,” he admitted. Her eyebrow lifted. “It’s not every night I get to bust up a fight and take a tumble in the storeroom with a beautiful woman.”
She swung her legs into the cab. “Hmm. You seemed pretty comfortable in that storeroom.”
He stepped on the running board and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You’re the first gal I’ve tumbled with in the storeroom. Cross my heart.”
Her palm flattened against the front of his wrinkled undershirt. “Is that what I felt against my backside earlier? Your heartbeat? And here I thought cowboys were heartless savages.”
“No, that was something else entirely. And lucky for you, I’m not a cowboy. That’s Waylon’s department.” He shut the door and rounded the front of the truck to climb in beside her.
The air held a chill—as much as mid-December in the Hill Country could muster. But still, it reminded him that the holidays would soon be upon them. Could he convince Jinx to stick around through Christmas? He’d take the time he could get with her. Even though it went against everything he’d been telling himself he needed, he couldn’t fight the feelings being around her brought up.
Logically, there was no reason he ought to be attracted to Jinx. She wasn’t his type. A half-shaved head of blue hair. Enough metal to build a barbed-wire fence. Definitely not. But then again, Lori Lynne had supposedly been his type, and look where that had gotten him.
“We headed to my place or yours?” he asked.
“You’re being fairly presumptuous, aren’t you?” The side-eye glance she gave him lacked the frostiness from earlier.