Chapter Five #2
Cash nearly choked on his coffee. Rory’s words didn’t hold a hint of innuendo, but his shimmering icy blue eyes were another story.
That little shit might not know anything, but he suspected a lot.
Nick had been spot-on when he’d said people underestimated Rory, but Cash wasn’t one of them. “He’s tired from a long day of travel.”
Rory leaned his hip against the kitchen island and crossed his arms over his chest. It was a classic what-are-your-intentions pose, but his goofy grin ruined any intimidation factor.
Or did it? That smile unsettled Cash more than he wanted to acknowledge.
He’d fearlessly challenged the wealthy and powerful to achieve his successes, but facing Rory felt scarier.
Nick loved his brother dearly and held him in high regard.
Rory’s opinion would be important to Nick, so it mattered to Cash too.
“I bet he was tired. I assume he landed in Denver and drove here.”
“He did,” Cash said casually. He debated telling Rory about Nick’s car accident, but that would only make Nick’s decision to drive to Redemption Ridge more curious. The last thing he wanted to do was encourage the grinning imp in his kitchen.
Rory broke eye contact with Cash to inspect the rows of muffins. “These smell incredible. I’ll wait a bit to let Nick sleep in, then take him a few with his morning coffee. He loves anything pumpkin.”
“Great,” Harry said. “You’ll have to tell me his favorite meals so I can fix him something special.”
Rory faced Cash once more. “Cash would probably be a better judge. It’s been a long time since I’ve lived with Nicky, and I’m sure his tastes have matured beyond chicken tenders and macaroni and cheese.”
Cash couldn’t help but grin. “Who doesn’t love a good chicken tender and macaroni and cheese?” As far as deflections went, it was pretty lame. “Nick wouldn’t want you to fuss over him,” he told Harry. “He doesn’t have food allergies, and he isn’t a picky eater.”
“He doesn’t like mushrooms,” Rory said.
“He didn’t use to like them, but he does now,” Cash said, recalling the way Nick had wolfed down the omelet. He’d chocked that full of peppers, onions, and mushrooms.
Rory quirked a brow in do-tell fashion, and Cash accepted the challenge.
“Nick changed his mind when he had truffle butter on a steak once.”
“Well, damn,” Rory said. “I used to love grossing him out with them.” After a chuckle, he asked again where he could find Nick. “Maybe I’ll jump on the bed the way I used to when I was little.”
Cash thought of Nick’s injured shoulder and nearly cringed. He quickly pivoted his thoughts to how best to divert Rory’s attention, but Harry beat him to it.
She looped her arm through Rory’s and pulled him toward the refrigerator.
“You’ll do no such thing. Tell me all about your trip while you help me prep for breakfast.” Harry looked at Cash and made a get-out-of-here hand gesture.
He took full advantage of her distraction to beat a hasty retreat to his office.
Cash snagged another muffin from the cooling rack.
Being the ranch owner had its privileges.
“It was the best trip I’ve ever taken,” Rory said wistfully.
The guy had traveled the world, and Kansas had stolen the top spot? Cash knew damn well it had nothing to do with the location and everything to do with the people, namely the big teddy bear who’d stolen Rory’s heart. Cash slowed his steps so he could catch the highlight reel.
“Ivan’s mom is so sweet,” Rory continued. “I adore her and the fierce way she loves her sons. Ivan and his brother, Innes, razz each other nonstop. It’s too funny. No one here would dare talk to Ivan the way his younger brother does.”
According to Nick, Rory knew exactly which buttons to push to rile him up too. Cash hadn’t witnessed the shenanigans for himself. If the ranch was lucky, they’d get to see Nick and Rory in action.
“Oh my God, Harry,” Rory blurted. “You should see Ivan fussing over his little niece. She looked so tiny in his gigantic hands. He cradled her tenderly against his chest and talked to her in the gentlest voice I’d ever heard. Swoon. I want to have ten babies with him.”
Cash snorted and picked up the pace. He made a quick detour to the library to retrieve his phone before heading into his office.
Burke had texted back No problem and I’ll hold you to it almost immediately after Cash had canceled their dinner plans.
He felt like he owed his friend a better explanation.
Regardless of Nick’s presence, Cash needed to let Burke down gently, not through a text.
He’d set up the rain-check meal where he could let the guy down.
Normally, he wouldn’t message people at seven in the morning, but he knew from their conversations that Burke was an early riser.
Cash sat down at his desk and took a fortifying sip of coffee before pulling up his text thread with Burke.
He tapped out, I’m really sorry about last night.
A friend showed up unexpectedly. Could we meet for lunch this week?
He set his phone down and picked up the Sunday paper Harry had laid on his desk.
Burke replied before he’d read the first headline.
How good of a friend? Burke wanted to know.
Cash chuckled and shook his head. Of course he’d zeroed in on that part. Two could play this game. Lunch? Cash asked. The bubble with three dots popped up on his screen, so Cash didn’t bother to set the phone down.
I see. Burke followed it with a sad face emoji and, The lucky bastard. Lunch sounds good. Wednesday?
They bantered for a few more minutes while confirming the day and time.
Burke said Cash could invite his friend.
Maybe the sheriff was curious, or maybe he was probing for information.
Cash hadn’t taken the bait. He told Burke to have a good day and be safe.
He was in a good mood when he picked up the paper again.
Cash was pretty sure Burke saw the writing on the wall when Cash had replaced what they both knew was a date in Burke’s mind with a lunch at the local diner.
Cash had squarely friend-zoned him without coming out and saying it.
That would happen at lunch because there was no romantic future for them, regardless of what happened with Nick.
Based on the teasing tone of Burke’s texts, Cash was certain they would be okay.
His good mood shriveled up and died when he read the top headline.
A new rash of thefts was occurring in the surrounding community.
The interviewed officer remarked that this latest rash mirrored the ones from earlier in the year.
Pastor Samuel Jeremiah, though Cash hesitated to use an honorific title for a cult leader, had accused the ranch crew of committing the thefts.
Sheriff Burke and several of his deputies were very familiar with the ranch hands since Dylan trained their K-9 dogs.
Burke had refused to entertain the allegations without evidence, which had only made Pastor Jeremiah angrier.
Cash supposed that was the impetus for the confrontation at the dog adoption event in Last Chance Creek.
As Cash had told Nick, the organization had been quiet—too quiet—since then.
But how long would that last now that the thefts had started back up?
Burke hadn’t said anything to him. Probably because he knew it was a sore subject for Cash.
His crew had worked their asses off to build new lives for themselves, and the Salvation Anew assholes didn’t care who they hurt with their accusations.
The success of the ranch didn’t rely on support from the surrounding community, but that didn’t mean Cash wanted trouble.
He sure as hell didn’t want people confronting his men when they went into town.
Pastor Jeremiah had garnered attention in the media with his “farm felon” talk.
Sometimes all the reporters needed was a catchy moniker to run with a story; the truth be damned.
Rory had worked tirelessly to fix all that, and Cash hated to see his hard work going down the drain.
Dread sat like a brick in his stomach by the time he finished the article.
Voices and laughter filtered into his office, and Cash realized the rest of the crew had arrived for breakfast. He folded the paper and set it back on his desk.
He’d had enough negativity to last a while.
Cash wanted to be with the people who’d become his family.
When he reached the dining room, Rory was passing out souvenirs to the crew.
There was a fresh round of exclamations and guffawing with each revealed gift.
Cash understood why when Rory handed him a keychain that said, “What happens in Kansas stays in Kansas.” Most of the gifts either played on or outright stole slogans from other states or cities.
Rueben got a coffee mug that said, “Topeka: The City That Always Sleeps.” Harry got a trucker hat that said, “I left my heart in Wichita.” Some souvenirs included famous lines from The Wizard of Oz.
They were silly little gifts, but everyone loved them.
Once the laughter died down, they grabbed plates and filled them with food.
Besides the pumpkin muffins, Harry and Rory served a breakfast casserole that combined hash browns, eggs, cheese, and breakfast meats.
Cash took a serving and a half because it was one of his favorite meals, and he helped himself to a third muffin.
He could punish himself in his home gym later.
“How was poker last night?” Cash asked once they settled around the table.
He expected the stories to be numerous enough to get them through breakfast, but the replies were brief and general.
They all had a great time. Harry and Dylan have a cool place.
Finley won most of the chips…again. Cash looked at them, wondering why they didn’t embellish like usual, but realized the answer was sleeping in his bed.
Of course they’d noticed the sporty sedan parked in front of his house.
None of them seemed brave enough to come right out and ask him about it, though he felt the curious glances tossed his way.
“Did you buy a new car yesterday?” Tyler finally asked.
Some of the crew groaned, and others laughed.
Wallets came out and several bills got passed to Rueben, who laughed gleefully and tucked his winnings away.
Cash assumed the bet was on which of the crew would break first and ask about it.
God, he loved the assholes so much, but he wouldn’t let his expression give that or anything else away.
Apparently Rory wasn’t inclined to help them out either because he just sat there with a smug smirk on his face.
“No, I didn’t buy a new car,” Cash replied.
“An inheritance from an unknown benefactor,” Kieran suggested with a smirk.
“It fell through a porthole,” Rueben said.
Finley grinned like a lunatic, and Cash braced himself for his guess.
Fin’s mouth opened, but no words came out because Nick had chosen that moment to enter the dining room.
Silence washed over the group. Cash felt the exact instant everyone’s gaze pivoted to him, but he only had eyes for Nick.
He wore jeans so faded they were nearly threadbare in interesting places.
They fit Nick like a second skin, and Cash hated and loved them at the same time.
Nick’s shirt was so old that it was hard to discern its original color, but Cash remembered.
The shirt had been Kelly green. The white screen-printed lettering behind the sling was missing, cracked, or peeling in most places.
Cash knew exactly what it said because he’d bought the shirt on his first day of community college.
He’d tucked it away as a cherished reminder of the day that changed his life.
Cash thought he’d lost the shirt in a move, but it turned out he’d been a victim of theft.
And in more ways than one it seemed. Nick had stolen a huge chunk of his heart that fateful weekend, so why not take his clothes too?
But holy hell, Nick looked so fucking good in it.
The hem didn’t even reach the waistband of his jeans, leaving a good inch or more of golden skin on display.
Cash dropped his gaze and reassessed the jeans.
Those threadbare areas looked familiar too.
When Nick angled his body to scout the food, Cash noticed the iconic triangle Guess logo was missing.
The denim was still a little darker where it used to be.
He’d fucking loved those jeans when he’d bought them at the thrift store in town.
They’d fit him so well, and he wore them until they were no longer decent to wear in public.
Like the shirt, he hadn’t been sure when they’d gone missing, only that they had.
He’d mourned their loss and wanted to blame the joy of rediscovery on his racing heart.
But foolishness was not a key to Cash’s success, and he forced himself to admit several truths.
Nick Scott wore the outfit better. With his bare feet and mussed hair, no one had ever looked more beautiful to Cash.
The things Nick did to his body were wicked, but it was nothing compared to the impact he had on Cash’s heart.
And regardless of the speech he’d given Nick in the hot tub, Cash was well and truly fucked.
His heart waved the white flag in surrender.