20. Cash
20
CASH
I peer down at her, studying her flawless face. It’s almost too divine, the proportions otherworldly. Her nose is just turned up enough. Her bottom lip is fuller than the top one, both plump and begging to be bitten. Her bright ocean-blue eyes are wide, like an anime character, and her skin is as smooth as porcelain, even after the rain washed off her makeup.
Her eyelids droop down, half lidded and sensual. Her lips part as a soft gasp escapes them. My cock thickens between my thighs.
What I’m holding is clearly a woman who wants to be thoroughly kissed, but I’m not the kind of man to operate under false pretenses.
“I’m leaving next week. My replacement will be here on Monday.”
The ice-cold bucket of water I dumped over us hits her with a splash. That beautiful, stubborn streak settles over her, and she clamps her mouth shut .
“I need to piss. Can I get a minute?” she grits out.
I step back from her, out into the hall. She slams the door shut.
This is for the best. This is for her own good. It’ll be easier if she hates me.
Still, it feels like shit all the same.
Griff’s man is better than I expected. I found myself half wishing he sucked at the job to give me an excuse to stick around.
Mike is stone-cold, clinical, and calculated. He operates completely void of any emotion or personal interaction, like a true soldier.
I’m doing the right thing.
I decide saying goodbye to Monroe would be pointless, considering she hasn’t looked at me in almost a week. She’s been all business since our exchange in the bar restroom. She even requested I don’t take a shift until the night of the show.
Zade showed up on the first night, lounging in her dressing room and snuggling up with her in her hotel room afterward. The urge to strangle him with my bare hands was strong, but I resisted by fantasizing about it and avoiding him as much as possible.
Tuesday morning couldn’t come fast enough.
Brooks drops me off at the airport. He claps a hand on my shoulder. “I learned a lot from you. I hope you meant it when you offered for me to visit because I’m coming down either way.”
I nod. “I meant it. Come out to the ranch. We might just make a man of you yet. Bring Ember with you.”
His smile fades as he looks away. “Eh, maybe. We’ll see what happens there.”
I would tell him to man up and tell her how he feels, but I’ve never been a hypocrite. Leaving the tour is ultimately best for Monroe. I’m not meant for the spotlight. I’m a country boy deep down in my bones. She’s better off without me.
I walk toward the gate, my duffel bag slung over my shoulder.
The ranch feels different now, almost eerily quiet. Duke and I go hunting on the first night I’m back. He mercifully doesn’t say much about Monroe until we’re deep in the woods, camped out in a deer stand.
“So, be real with me, man. Nothing happened?” He smirks, leaning back against the wall of the stand in his camouflage jacket.
We built this place when we were just kids, barely big enough to hold up a hammer.
Duke is annoying in a very little-brother kind of way. He has a special ability to piss me off with one comment and a smirk.
“Nothing happened,” I lie.
“Mmm, sure. Then, why’d you run back home with your tail tucked between your legs?” He peers through the scope on his rifle, aimed at the deer feeder.
The gun goes off. I look over toward the stand to see a twelve-point buck on the ground. He winks at me, rising to a stand.
“I never took my big brother for a coward.”
He’s baiting me, which he loves to do, but I’m not taking it. I’m the levelheaded brother. Getting a rise out of me is much harder than that. Now that I’m finally an ocean away from Monroe Blue, I realize that I am still the calm one, difficult to rile up and piss off.
“I did a job, made a chunk of change to start building my own place, and that’s it.”
“Fuck yeah, the money was good. So, you wouldn’t mind putting in a good word for me? I’ll be her bodyguard for a couple of months for five hundred grand.”
We stalk toward the deer. Duke hands me his gun before he grabs the deer’s legs and throws the animal over his shoulder. He grunts under the weight. We walk over to where we parked the Ranger. He tosses the animal in the back while I climb into the driver’s seat. Duke has always been the best hunter in the family, keeping our freezer stocked with venison and various birds all year long.
“So, for all that dough, why’d you even come home so early? You could’ve stayed another month and had a damn good investment startup, new truck, all kinds of shit. ”
I ignore his question. He knows better than to ask twice.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up to the barn, where he’ll spend the next hour cleaning the kill. I walk toward the house to put the rifles up. I look up toward the sky, studying the full spread of stars that I haven’t seen in the last few months since I left. A sense of calm settles over me at the familiar sight.
Holden and Rosie must’ve gone to bed because Dolly is still up, watching a movie alone.
“Hey,” she mumbles, smiling sweetly at me from the sofa.
My baby sister is an angel, complete with near-perfect behavior and very few bad qualities. One of her only flaws is the heart condition she’s had since birth. Dolly was born with congenital heart defects. Her heart was deformed at birth, causing her to need lifelong medication to treat the problem. She suffers from heart murmurs, fatigue, fainting, low energy, and a range of other symptoms. Sometimes, she doesn’t know her own limits and needs reminding. She receives biannual checkups.
She raises her head, dark hair spilling over her shoulder. “You know, I can’t believe you chose to just come home from Monroe Blue’s world tour, just like that. I refuse to believe you didn’t leave because you were madly in love with her.”
I pause in the kitchen, slowly lowering both the guns as my mind scrambles for a response.
She laughs, sighing as her head drops back down to the pillow. “I know it’s all just the media, but the way you look at her in those videos, Cash … it’s undeniably romantic. Did she ever say anything about it? ”
The characters on the TV screen are singing a familiar tune as they dance around a streetlamp.
“Her publicist asked me if I planned on staying with the tour so they could address it with the fans. I didn’t, so they never acknowledged it.”
Dolly’s head perks up, eyes bright. “You’re kidding! Like, they mentioned making it a PR-relationship type of thing?”
I shrug, removing my camo hoodie before collapsing on one of the massive leather recliners in the living room. “Something like that.”
Dolly’s jaw is on the floor. “And you said no ?”
I don’t respond, instead studying an intriguing crack in the wooden floorboards. Several long seconds pass before I glance back up at my sister’s face. She blinks her gray eyes at me, shaking her head like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.
“Well, anyway, how was hunting?”
“Duke got a nice one.”
“Gun or bow?”
“Gun.”
“Hmm. I’m surprised he didn’t try for the bow.”
“I thought Sam was the master with the bow.”
Dolly sits fully up. “Sam Seymour thinks he’s the master of everything.”
I glance at her, seeing she’s crossed her arms and stuck her chin out. Sam has been Duke’s best friend since they were kids. His grandfather’s ranch, where he grew up, isn’t far from ours.
“Okay … ”
We watch the movie in silence for a few more minutes until she speaks again.
“So, be for real. Why did you leave the tour? It was the chance of a lifetime, Cash. I know you hate being the center of attention and being around crowds, but this was, like, something most people dream about.”
“I still got you the backstage passes for the concert in Dallas.”
“I’m not worried about that! I’m worried that you’re never going to open up your heart to love again.”
“Again?”
She glares at me. “You haven’t loved a woman since Mom died.”
I chuckle, rising to my feet. “Look, Dolls, this had nothing to do with love. This was business. Monroe Blue was a client. She’s all the way on the other side of the world, living her big, fancy pop-star dreams. And I’m home on the ranch—exactly where I’m meant to be. Good night.” I press a kiss to her forehead.
I walk back outside toward the bunkhouse I share with Duke. Home suddenly feels a lot more suffocating than it used to. I don’t remember everyone being so damn concerned about my love life when I left.
Once I get inside, I kick off my boots and walk into my bathroom. The bedroom has an en suite bath, affording some privacy. That’s one thing I will not miss about the tour—sharing a room with Brooks.
The bunkhouse used to be all bare wood walls and secondhand furniture until Dolly and Rosie decided to redecorate. They kept it manly enough, but now, it has high- quality leather chairs with a matching sofa, an intricately detailed wooden table my brother Sterling built, as well as matching end tables. They also decorated the walls with pictures from the ranch. Some depict us riding bulls and working, and some show the cattle and beautiful views of the thousands of acres.
I start to unbuckle my belt, but the itch of my fingers to search her up is impossible to ignore. I’ve been resisting it all day. Before I know what I’m doing, my thumb is typing out her name.
The videos that pop up first are from the show in Paris. She’s up on the stage in one of her dramatic, glittering minidresses. It’s a beautiful ocean-blue color, which I already know reflects her eye color up close. She’s standing in the middle of the stage with her microphone held out toward the crowd, head bobbing to encourage them to sing.
I watch it twice, taking in her curves, her smile, the way she performs like she’s meant for it.
I scroll to the next video, startling when it starts with me on the screen, guarding her until she gets to her car. The clip cuts and skips to another one of me and her walking down the street. She leans up to tell me something, a smile on her lips as she whispers in my ear.
I should text Brooks, just to check in.
A flash of annoyance swirls inside my gut as I slam the phone down on the bed. This behavior is pathetic. I’m almost as bad as her stalker at this point.
I have to get her out of my head. I have to move the fuck on. She’s not mine to check up on.