Cash (Lucky River Ranch, #1)

by Jessica Peterson

Sometimes, though, I wish I had someone who slept in my bed for more than a night. I wish I had a person—the person—to talk to and take care of. Someone who’d take care of me too. Life is heavy. It’d be nice not to have to face it alone for once.

I feel myself tilting into a death spiral of regret and grief. My eyes burn. I can barely breathe around the moon in my throat. I am in a room full of people who had a closer relationship with my father than I did. And none of them are even related to him. It makes me feel like absolute shit.

“Won’t be the first snake in the grass I’ve encountered here.” The reply is quick, a slap just firm enough to make my skin tingle. Sally grins. “I like her.” I don’t. But with a little luck and a lot of help from the South Texas heat, this will be my first and only ride with City Girl.

She glances at me from underneath the brim of her ridiculous hat. Sunlight slants across her face, her irises crystal clear, the color of whiskey. “So I’m going to die in an accident then? That how you’re going to get rid of me?” “Nah, Miss Luck. I was gonna let the land do the dirty work.” I nod at the pasture ahead of us. “Like I said, plenty of things out there that’ll get the job done for me.” She laughs again. It strikes me that maybe I made her do it on purpose this time. “Ah, manslaughter. Isn’t it hilarious?” Mollie squeezes my arm before letting me go. “You’re a funny guy, Cash.”

I shake my head. “Nothing. Didn’t believe you were actually employed.” Her eyes narrow to slits. “Because you thought I spent my time getting tan and going shopping?” “And playing pickleball. Don’t forget that.” Her lips twitch. Am I flirting with Mollie? Why the fuck am I flirting with Mollie?

Is he going to push me? That’s my first thought as I peer over the edge of the cliff. My second: Should I push him first?

Lol

“You resent me for knowing him better than you did, don’t you, City Girl?” I turn away, my eyes welling with tears. I’m more angry than sad, but I cry anytime I’m upset. Usually, I’ll try to hide it. Keep everyone else comfortable. At the very least, keep me from embarrassing myself. But fuck that. Cash wants brutal honesty, that’s what he’ll get. “I do, yeah.” I wipe my eyes with my sleeve. “Maybe that makes me petty, but whatever. Dad was so good to y’all…goddamn, I wish he’d been that good to me.” Cash is quiet for a beat. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” “I couldn’t care less about your intentions. Take me back to the house, Cash.” “Mollie—” “This conversation is over.”

She’s also wearing glasses. I step closer to the entrance and peer through the open screen door. Fuck, since when am I attracted to girls who wear glasses?

Lol

Mollie peels off the green plastic sleeve that covers the bottle cap. “Egg white omelets. I’d offer you one, but you’re kind of a dick, so no.” Laughter rumbles in my chest. “I was a dick the other day. I’m sorry.” “You should be.”

Lol

I nod at the Texas Pete. “Can I help you with that?” “No.” “I really am sorry.” “I really don’t care.” “Let me make it up to you.” She grits her teeth, twisting the cap. “I’d rather you not.”

Jesus, Mollie, give me that.” I grab the bottle and crack it open. “See? Easier when you let people help you.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Why do I get the feeling you need to take your own advice?”

I put a hand on the counter. “We’re meeting at ten o’clock at the barn. I hope to see you there.” “I hope you get bitten by a snake.” “Well!” Patsy claps her hands. “That seemed to go…well.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA IM SCREAMING

“As if I couldn’t adore you more. How cool! I’ll be there.” She looks at me. “As long as you’re not going.” Patsy gently elbows me. “Cash hasn’t been to The Rattler in a while.” “Don’t mean I ain’t itchin’ to go back.” I mean that. Sort of. I don’t miss the hangovers, but I do miss the live music. And the dancing. And the ice-cold beer. “Hmm.” Mollie taps a finger against her chin. “Maybe I’ll pass, then.” I hold up my hands. “Then I won’t go.” Mollie grins. I’m gripped by the urge to grab her face and⁠— Hell no. No more fantasies about Mollie’s mouth. No more fantasies about Mollie, period. “Then I will,” she says. “I love live music. Thanks for the invite, Patsy.”

HAHA

I’m soaked through with sweat when I walk through the kitchen door at the New House later that morning. Usually, I’d change my shirt or grab a quick shower. But I’m running late, thanks to Duke falling flat on his back after attempting a dumbass trick earlier. He basically tried to ride his horse right into the trailer, the plan being he’d grab the top of the trailer just as the horse was entering it. He’d lift himself off the horse and do some fancy thing where he’d drop to his feet on the ground. “It’ll make a great reel,” he said. I looked at him. “What the fuck is a reel?”

HAHAHA

She startles, Goldfish tumbling from the open packet she’s got in her hand. “Goddamn it, Cash, you keep doing that!” “Doing what?” I glance at her pink dress and brown boots. The boots have red and pink hearts on them. Ridiculous, but cute. Bending down, she picks up the Goldfish. “Barging into rooms and scaring the shit out of people.”

“What are you doing?” I repeat. Mollie’s eyebrows snap together. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m bartending.” “You got booze back there?” “No drinking and riding allowed.” Her lips curl into a smirk as she pours lemonade into the glass. “Kids are having a ball.” She holds out the glass. Like me, it’s already sweating in the morning heat. “Did you poison it?” I eye the lemonade. “Take a sip and find out.” “Would that be murder or manslaughter?” Mollie lifts a shoulder, her eyes on mine. “Neither. I cover my tracks.” “You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.” I take the lemonade, the cold pressing into my hand.

LMAOOO

I stare at the foil-wrapped item she holds out. “More poison?” “Ha. No. It’s a fried chicken sandwich. Found it in the fridge.” My pulse skips again. “How’d you know I was hungry?” “Gave you the benefit of the doubt and assumed you were hangry back at the house.” I take the sandwich. “Thank you?” “Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be in the ground already. Except for your head. And your hands. I’d toss those in the river.” Laughing, I unwrap the sandwich and take a giant bite. Dang, that’s good. “Exactly how much Yellowstone have you watched?” “Enough to know my way around dismemberment.”

“You’re figuring out your place, Mollie. That’s up to you to decide. It’s like you’re feeling your way through the dark right now. You’ve never done any of this before. I say you try it all on and see what feels right.”

Cash. He stands a few feet away, one hand tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. He’s wearing a baseball hat. A backward baseball hat. Add to that his broken-in Wranglers and the clean white tee that stretches across his chest and shoulders in the most mind-bogglingly sexy way imaginable, and you have one very tall glass of water. Cash is a smokeshow when he’s doing his cowboy thing, no denying that. But in these neon lights, in that hat and those jeans, he is…epically, obscenely hot. My pulse riots, a bloom of pure, unadulterated desire spreading between my legs.

Squeezing them together in an effort to cut that shit off at the pass, I blurt, “I thought you weren’t coming.” He comes to stand beside me at the bar and meets my eyes. “Changed my mind. You gonna leave now, City Girl?” “I will if you keep calling me that.”

Turning back to Cash and Wyatt, I catch Cash looking at me. Checking me out, more like it. His eyes rove up the length of my body, a slow, steady perusal that feels like a physical caress. 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.

“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?”

“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.”

“Nope.” Aw shit, now I’m curling an arm around Mollie’s waist. Now I’m pulling her against me, my body lighting up like a firecracker at the contact. My hand finds her side, and I hold her there, my grip firm. I don’t miss the way her tits rise on a sharp inhale. I tell myself I’m just looking out for her. I’m just keeping her safe. If I’m here, there’s no chance Roddy will put his dirty paws on her. “Wait, wait.” Mollie looks up at me, eyebrows pinched together. “Are you⁠—” “Dancing? Yes.” She blinks. “I’m confused.” “It’s simple. The band plays a song, and we dance to it.” “Together?” “That’s how the two-step works, yeah.”

“Not if I can help it.” I grab her hand. Put my other hand on the small of her back, my pinkie meeting with bare skin thanks to her crop top. My pulse blares. The heat of her skin seeps into my own. I can’t two-step with this girl and not lose my goddamn mind.

She finally does smile, this time a closed-mouth thing that makes me think she’s holding back laughter. “That sounded wrong.” “Only because you’re a pervert.” “You’re the one who said the pervy thing.” “You’re the one who pointed it out!” I don’t realize I’m smiling until Mollie says, “Aha. Maybe you are still fun.”

The song ends. Everyone goes wild, like they usually do. But unlike usual—Sally loves to talk to the crowd between songs—Frisky Whiskey dives right into another song. Another slow song. It’s like they know I’m about to pop a woody dancing with my new boss, and they wanna push me right over the fucking edge.

LMAOOO

“You’re not going to fall.” She parrots my line back to me with such precise, steady wickedness, I laugh again. “You twirl. I’ll take care of the rest.” “You have some fucking memory.” “You have some fucking nerve, not giving your dance partner what she wants. C’mon, cowboy.”

Glancing at the bar, I see Wyatt with a shot of whiskey in his hand and a big, stupid smile on his face. Save me, I mouth to him. He just holds up the whiskey and then downs it. I am going to kill him later.

LOL

That smile. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.” “I shouldn’t be out here in the first place.” I nod at the floor. “Dancing.” “Yeah, you should.” She gestures at the bar, which is getting more crowded by the minute. Everyone’s watching us, smiles on their faces. “Told you they wanted a show.”

Mollie’s looking out for me, isn’t she? The spoiled, self-centered trust-fund brat is paying attention to me in a way no one else has in…a while.

Who the fuck is this girl? And why do I want to suddenly commit unspeakably violent acts against every guy who so much as glances at her? I gotta get gone. Now. Climb in my truck and peel out of here like the building’s on fire. That’d be the smart thing to do. But Mollie’s the smart one, isn’t she? And I don’t see her going anywhere. Curling an arm around her waist, I pull her against me. “Then let’s give ’em a show.”

Clearing my throat, I ask, “So you can dispose of my body on the side of the road?” Cash grins. My pulse skips. “That’d be plain stupid. I’d feed you to the cows, obviously.” “Obviously.” “Do y’all always joke about dismemberment like this?” John B asks. “It’s a little…dark.” “Only when we’re together.” Cash pushes me toward the exit.

Turning, I catch Cash looking at me. “What?” I hold my hair back with my other hand. He shakes his head, focusing his gaze on the windshield. “Nothing. You just look like your daddy, sitting like that.” My heart squeezes. “I do? How?” “He’d hang his arm out the window too. Although he’d sing a lot louder.” I grin. “I inherited my mom’s voice. You do not want to hear me sing.” “I heard you plenty back at The Rattler.” “You didn’t run.” “Don’t mean I didn’t want to.” He’s smiling, eyes liquid, and my God, how does someone so handsome exist?

“Of course I’ve been to therapy. Why do you think I’m such a charming, well-adjusted beacon of contentment and emotional maturity?” I laugh again, this time for real. “You’re full of surprises, I’ll say that much.”

I can only stare, eyes welling. “Cash.” “Yeah?” “Can I hug you?” He laughs. “I thought you wanted to murder me?” “I can do that too. But…thanks? For sticking up for me.” “If I’da known you, I wouldn’t have done it,” he replies with a smirk. I give his shoulder a shove. “Just when I was starting to like you.” “See?” He meets my eyes, a grin on his lips. “Charming and well adjusted as fuck. You’re welcome.”

“Feeling full of ourselves because we did some twirls tonight on the dance floor, I see.” Mollie’s eyes shine. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, cowboy.” “I thought we said no more nicknames.” “Cowboy isn’t a nickname. It’s more of a…vibe.” “A vibe you like?” “A vibe I can tolerate, yeah.”

“I’m not inviting you inside!” she calls as she opens her door. I jog around the hood to hold the door open. “Never said I wanted to come inside.” “Perv alert.” She takes the hand I hold out to her and hops to the ground, flashing me a whole lot of leg in the process. Laughing, I say, “I wouldn’t’ve caught that if you didn’t say something. Get your mind out of the gutter.” “I’d prefer not to, thanks.”

“Thanks for listening,” she says. “I don’t usually confide in strangers⁠—” “I’m not a stranger.” Our gazes lock. The space between us tightens, sparking with electricity that works its way into my skin as her eyes slip to my mouth. Holy fuck, is Mollie going to kiss me? “No,” she says. “You’re not.”

“Let’s not murder each other, okay?” Her voice is different. Barely above a whisper. My voice is different, too, when I reply, “I make no promises.” “You’re difficult, you know that?” “Wouldn’t be fun if I made things easy.” She scoffs, her breath ruffling the hair on the nape of my neck. “You’re anything but easy, Cash.” Honey, you kiss me, and you’ll see just how easy I can be. All she has to do is ask. Make the move. And I’ll have her on her back with my face between her legs in two seconds flat.

Ahhhh

Mollie flips the pair of omelets sizzling in the skillet. “Don’t call the devil. I’ve never made breakfast for twenty people before, so I really may end up poisoning y’all. Although this time, it won’t be intentional.” “Look at us, making progress. No more threats of manslaughter.” She smiles. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, cowboy. How are you feeling? You were working up a sweat on that dance floor.” Drawing a breath, I have to think about that. When was the last time someone asked about me? How I’m doing?

I grab a pair of plates and hold them out, giving her a wink. “That’s because you’ve never danced with me before.” “You’re not half bad.” She uses a spatula to slide an omelet onto each plate. “Not as good as I am, granted.”

“Mollie Luck, if there’s one thing you don’t need, it’s someone telling you what you can’t do. You know what you’re capable of.” Looking at me, he screws one eye shut against the brightening sun. “So get out there and do the damn thing.”

Cash draws his horse to a stop a few feet away. He and the horse are both heaving, a cloud of dust billowing around them. “Were you catcalling me?” “I was congratulating you.” Wyatt lifts a brow. “Sounded like a catcall to me.” Cash grins. “You like what you see, then, City Girl.”

“Who made you boss?” I say with a smirk. “Your daddy did. You best listen.” I wag my eyebrows. “Yessir.” Wyatt eyes us. “Is this some kinda weird foreplay y’all got going on?” “Nah.” I sip water from the thermos Cash dropped into my saddlebag earlier. Bless him, he put ice in it. “Just your brother pretending to be in charge.” Cash’s forearm flexes as he guides his horse closer. “That a challenge?” “Just a fact,” I clip.

LMAO

A whimper escapes my lips as I straighten after helping Cash give Happy her afternoon bottle, a sharp pain slicing through my lower back. His expression darkens. “You’re hurting, aren’t you?” “No.” I put my hand on my back, biting back a wince.

I press the back of my wrist to my eyes and blink, hard. “I’m not crying. There’s no crying in cowboying.” “Cute League of Their Own reference,” Cash says, even as his nostrils flare. “But cowboys do cry, Mollie.” “Tom Hanks was so good in that movie.” “Madonna was better.” My heart dips. Of course he’d say that. Goddamn it, this man is relentless today. Makes me cry harder. I’m overwhelmed. I’m so sore, it hurts to breathe. “I love Madonna.” I wipe my nose on my sleeve. “Of course you do.” He ducks his head to look me in the eye. Lowers his voice when he says, “You crushed it today, Mollie. No shame in calling it quits. I’ll be doing the same in an hour. Less.”

There’s a shout behind me. “Mollie! Jesus fuck.” Then I’m scooped into huge, hard arms, Cash literally sweeping me off my feet as he cradles me against him. I look up at him and my pulse seizes. His eyes are dark. Hard and soft and hot, all at once. Oh, God. Now I really can’t breathe. “Cash—” “Enough,” he snaps. “You’re coming with me. Put your arms around my neck. Don’t make me ask twice, or so help me God, I’ll get really angry.”

A muscle in his jaw tics. “My place.” “If you’re planning to have your way with me⁠—” “The supplies we need are there.” “See? Kinky.” He cuts me a look. “Mollie.” “Cash.” “Stop.”

Lol

Maybe Dad wasn’t a bad person. Maybe I’m not either. Maybe we were both just hurt people, and we did the best we could with what we had. Just because we weren’t good to each other doesn’t mean we haven’t been good to the people who are in our lives.