14. Cash
CHAPTER 14
Cash
WORST WAY
Fuck me if Mollie ain’t fine as hell.
She’s tan from a day spent outside.
She’s drinking Shiner Bock at my favorite bar in the world.
She’s wearing a tiny skirt and crop top. Legs for days. Bare arms, bare shoulders. Big smile.
She’s singing the words to my favorite George Strait song.
Maybe that’s why I let her lead me to the stage. The music is loud enough that I feel the beat reverberate inside my breastbone. Patsy’s really going for it on the drums. Don’t blame her. Looking after us all, she’s got a lot of tension to work out.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Wyatt watching Mollie and me. He tilts his head the tiniest bit.
Don’t be a dick.
Tallulah also sends a look my way, a knowing smile on her face as she fills a frosty glass at the tap.
I haven’t taken someone home in a while. With everything that happened first with Garrett and then with Mollie, I’ve been too tied up—too beat up—to make the effort.
Probably why I feel so keyed up with Mollie on my arm. She smells good, the perfume she’s wearing somehow sweet and sexy. Hint of vanilla. Another hint of something floral and pretty.
This was a bad idea.
Coming to The Rattler and having a beer with Mollie was a really bad fucking idea.
I need to leave. Immediately.
But then the song ends, and Mollie throws up her arms. She lets out a loud holler that puts a big old smile on Sally’s face.
It also captures the attention of every guy in a twenty-foot vicinity. Several shamelessly stare at Mollie, a few of the bolder ones even moving closer. I see the Wallace boys in the mix. Wonder if anything ever happened between Beck and Sally. And where the hell is their sister, Billie? She’s good at keeping them in line.
My grip on my beer tightens. This is why I’m here. Last thing I felt like doing after a long day on the ranch was getting dressed and going out. But I didn’t like the idea of Mollie getting hit on left and right by local drunks who get a little too handsy after a couple of drinks.
Wyatt is too distracted by, well, everyone to watch over Mollie. Sawyer’s back home, putting Ella to bed. And Duke and Ryder, they’re too busy trying to get laid to keep tabs on our new owner.
As usual, it’s up to me to keep everyone safe.
“Thank y’all,” Patsy says into the mic. “Always fun to cover the king himself.”
“You’re a rock star!” Mollie says.
John B holds up his hand. “Ain’t she, though?”
“I’m already a fan for life.” Mollie gives him a high five. “Your girls are so talented.”
He beams. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”
“This next one is for Cash Rivers.” Sally glances at me before taking a swig of her margarita. “Since we haven’t seen him for a minute here at The Rattler, figure we’ll welcome him with one of his favorites. Y’all enjoy.”
My chest stirs as the opening notes of “Neon Moon” fill the bar.
Mollie glances at me, her smile in her eyes now. “This is one of my favorite Brooks he’s just to our right, dancing with Billie Wallace. Thank God that girl showed.
I arch a brow at Mollie. “You gonna be the one to take me to the hospital if I fall?”
“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.”
“Do it! Do it!” Ryder and Duke are chanting it now.
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.
Turning back to Mollie, I sigh. Then I lift up our arms as high as they’ll go. I still have to duck, but I manage to twirl, my boots sliding a little too easily on the floor. Had ’em resoled recently, so I have to be extra careful .
Then I’m facing Mollie again, her smile bright. Genuine. Around us, scattered applause breaks out.
She laughs, a sound that sends a rush up the back of my throat. “See how much they loved it?”
Did you?
Apparently so, because when the band plays the chorus again a minute later, Mollie is holding up her arm. This time, all she has to do is bite that bottom lip again to get me to twirl.
She hollers. Because I have a death wish, I find myself egged on by her attention, rolling my hips to the beat.
I fucking love to dance. Makes me forget how tired I am. How overwhelmed. All the shit I have to do, the never-ending list of tasks that floats around in my head day and night, evaporates as I move.
Only I must roll my hips a little too hard, because suddenly my left foot slips out from under me. My stomach lurches as I stumble and lose my balance. Shit, not again?—
But I’m yanked upright by a hand wrapped around my arm.
Mollie’s hand.
I immediately grab on to her, the two of us hanging on to the other’s forearm like we’re doing some kind of secret handshake.
She looks at me with wide eyes. “You okay?”
“I am.” My pulse pounds in my temples. “Thanks.”
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.”
The song ends. Again, the crowd hoots and hollers and claps. But I just stare at Mollie, trying—failing—to ignore the weird, buzzy feeling that rises inside my chest .
First the lemonade. Then the shower break and sandwich. Now the dance-floor rescue.
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.
Maybe she’s not such a brat.
Or maybe she’s got an ulterior motive. Really, why would she look out for me, if not to trick me into trusting her?
Only my gut tells me otherwise.
My knees wobble. Mollie keeps her hand on my arm, grip firm. I got several inches and a hundred pounds on her, but she’s stronger than she looks.
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.”