Who’s Your Daddy
Who’s Your Daddy
OLLIE
SEPTEMBER
“Are you sure you want me to come with you?” Walker asked for, like, the dozenth time as we headed toward Cash and his friend’s get up.
Ugh, if she brought it up again I might actually tell her to stay. “Walker, I say this lovingly…shut. the. fuck. up.”
Her sharp intake of breath might as well have been as loud as glass shattering.
Oops. Did I take that too far? I did, didn’t I?
Braving a glance at her, I assessed the damage. “Sorry,” I offered with a guilty grin that felt a bit more like a grimace than I intended. “To be fair, I did tell you lovingly.”
A bright smile bloomed on her lips a moment later, all seriousness gone as she playfully nudged me before adjusting the strap of one of her bags—she’d brought four.
Apparently, she quote-unquote ‘needed options’.
“I ain’t mad. Just messin’ with you.” Her smile sobered just a fraction.
“I mean it, though. I don’t want to…I don’t know, be a cockblock or somethin’.
I don’t wanna take the attention off you and Cash. ”
I snorted. “As if anything could take the attention off Cash. The guy’s a living, breathing red flag with a neon sign glowing above his massive head saying, ‘Call for a good time.’”
Walker let out a breathy laugh, the sound light and airy and so opposite that obnoxious bray of Cash’s. Not that that made him any less attractive…somehow.
I couldn’t help but join in as we reached the truck. I glanced between all the shit we’d brought with us. There was no way we’d be able to fit it in the cab. Well, I probably could fit mine, but much like with her room, she overpacked.
After tossing the bags into the back of the truck, I followed Walker as she opened the back passenger door and hopped on in.
“You’re gonna make two ladies sit in the back seat?” Walker huffed. “Well, looks like chivalry sure is dead, Ol.”
Without missing a damn beat, Cash’s smooth as velvet voice filled the truck. “Ollie can sit up front on my lap if she wants.”
Of fucking course. I bit back a smirk. And while sitting on his lap sent butterflies erupting in my stomach, I wasn’t about to admit that.
“Wouldn’t you like that, Big Daddy? I’d rather ride in the trailer with the horses, though. I bet they smell better.” I settled beside Walker and shut the door. Cash sat directly ahead of me, while his cousin was in the driver’s seat. Ryder, Cash’s friend, was just on the other side of Walker.
“You don’t like the smell of Axe body spray and hormones?” Ryder asked, his tone playful.
Cash’s voice was little more than a hushed mutter as he glared back at his friend. “I don’t. Wear. Axe.”
Ryder smirked. “Oh that’s right. Old Spice mixed with Drakkar Noir then.”
I coughed to hide my laugh. It was fun seeing Cash getting a taste of his own medicine.
“I might ride in the back with the horses myself if Cash is going to do the thing,” Maverick chimed in as he put the truck in drive.
I frowned, and as if sharing the exact same thought, Walker and I asked as one, “What thing?”
“Don’t worry about it. You girls excited?” Cash brushed the question off as he took us in. And even though I couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, I could feel the weight of his stare. The intensity. The heat. It sent involuntary shudders down my spine.
Maverick’s voice boomed through the car. It’s not like he yelled, but the sound was deep, so strong that it just commanded attention. “Does everyone have their seatbelts on?”
“I do!” Walker all but chirped from beside me.
I reached up for mine and tugged. Once. Twice. What the fuck? “Mine’s stuck behind the seat or something.” I blew out an annoyed breath. Whatever. “Fuck it, just drive. I’ll be fine.”
Cash’s cousin slammed the truck back into park so fast Cash almost got his wish of me sitting on his lap. Jesus Christ. Was that at all necessary? He turned and pegged me with a hard stare.
I’d once been described as a stubborn mule, refusing to budge or bend.
It was meant as an insult, but when life gives you lemons…
you dig your heels in and channel your inner mule while making lemonade.
But if I was the mule, Maverick was a brick wall.
And there was no ignoring the silent, commanding presence he possessed.
“Ma’am. You can either put your seatbelt on, or you can get out and walk.” His threat was so damn low I almost couldn’t hear it over the rumble of the motor. “Choice is yours.”
My mouth popped open, closed, opened once more. “O…kay…”
“He’s, uh…” Ryder blew out a breath and sat forward to glance across the back seat at me. A soft, sympathetic smile rested on his lips. “He’s got some preferences. Best to just go along with ‘em.”
But the stubborn mule in me was a prideful bitch. I’d show him some preferences. Relax…he’s just being cautious. It’s his truck. I wasn’t about to ruin this trip before it even started.
Inhaling a deep breath and exhaling slowly, I muttered out. “Good to know. Seatbelt’s on. Anything else, Captain Maverick?”
Maverick’s jade gaze was penetrating as he pegged me in place. After a minute, a long fucking minute, he nodded, turning back toward the front as he put the car in drive. “If you brought headphones, put ‘em on now,” he murmured. “He’s gonna do the thing. I can feel it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Cash clapped his hands and rubbed them together before looking back at Walker and I.
“Look ladies, you are both so fortunate today, for you will get a rare insight into the mind of a champion. We ask that you please hold your questions, comments, and murmurs of appreciation until the…thing—” Cash tapped his cousin’s arm and smirked, “—as my cousin puts it, is over. Thank you.”
I snorted. Dear God, this was going to be interesting. What was he going to do…sing for us? “Who wrote that little speech?”
Ryder piped up from across the cab. “I did,” he explained, rather smugly, might I add. “My fiancé tweaked some stuff. Mav helped.”
“Zip it,” Cash muttered, rifling around in the front seat before pulling, dear God, was that an actual CD out of an old leather case? I didn’t even know vehicles had that function anymore. He held the disk out to his cousin. “Maverick, would you do the honors, please?”
“I’m drivin’,” he grumbled out, gaze straight forward.
“Come on!” Cash snapped, his voice ringing with annoyance. “If we’re gonna do this, and we are, we’re gonna do it right.”
With a great, heaving sigh, Maverick snatched the CD out of his hand and loaded it into the console. His gaze flicked to the rearview as he groaned, “Don’t say I didn’t warn y’all.”
Cash shushed him and took a deep breath.
Oh God, what did I get myself into?
Ryder snickered from his seat just as the track started.
“Hey, Stud,” the familiar, masculine voice said. “Well, I guess you’re on your way to another rodeo, and you know what that means? It’s time to kick. Some. Ass!”
What. The. Fuck? What the hell was I listening to? “Is that… Is that your voice?”
I didn’t know whether this was serious or some crazy joke. He had to be fucking with us…right?
“Better be quiet,” Maverick warned. “He will start it over again.”
“You are, quite literally, the best there ever was.” The track continued, Cash’s voice echoing through the cab, “No one has ever reached the heights you’ve already conquered. No one can soar like you. Like Cash. The Great Cash Mooney.”
Oh. My. God. No, this was serious. Dead serious.
I couldn’t help the cackle that bubbled out of me.
I couldn’t breathe. Oh my… Tears pricked in my eyes, the giggles escaping me so vicious I don’t think I could stop even if I tried.
I glanced over at Walker to find her in a similar state.
She looked just as completely dumbstruck as me.
One of Cash’s obnoxious brays broke through the speakers just as Crazy Train by Ozzie Osbourne began to play.
Holy fuck…he was crazy. Like, honest to God crazy… But what was even crazier, was that I actually kind of liked it.
Who the hell was the crazy one now?
After Crazy Train, Till I Collapse by Eminem, and Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins finished playing, there was some quiet as the next track loaded, filling the car with a brief bout of silence.
Dear God, what had I gotten myself into? How much longer was this going to go on for? Did he seriously listen to this every time he rodeoed? From the way Maverick and Ryder were completely unfazed, obviously he did.
He’s fucking insane…like, maybe legit insane. But honestly, I kind of had to hand it to him. I don’t think I’d ever met someone so confident, or delusional, in my life.
“Look, if this is all to impress me, somehow…” My words drifted off into nothingness as I tried and failed to formulate my thoughts accurately. “You know what?” I laughed, letting my shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “It might actually be working. This is fucking insane.”
Laughter rang through the car, and the grin I caught from Cash in the passenger door mirror was bright enough to power an entire city.
“Don’t flatter yourself too much,” Maverick said, his low voice rumbling through the truck. “This is real. He does this.”
“Every time,” Ryder added with a chuckle.
Cash’s shush cut our conversation short as a new track started up.
“Hey, my sweet boy.” A soft, feminine drawl issued forth from the speakers. “I just know you’re gonna go out there and do your best today!”
No way. No. Fucking. Way. I smacked my leg, so hard a red handprint splotched over my tan skin and the cackle that spewed out of me was probably the most god awful sound I’d ever heard—aside from Cash’s crow that is. But dear God, I couldn’t help it.
“Oh. My. God!” I shared a look with Walker who was wheezing at my side, unshed tears hanging in the corners of her eyes. “Is that your mom?” I gasped, trying to force the words out without falling into a fit of giggles. “No. Stop it. Let me out, I’m riding with the horses!”
His mom even joined in on this? There was no doubt about it, Cash Mooney was bat shit crazy. And entertaining as all fucking hell.