Chapter Seven
Violet
What am I doing?
I stand at the kitchen sink, holding the plate of pancakes and eggs I made for Cash. It’s getting cold and I need to move, but I’m stuck standing in the window, staring out at the farm as the rain pours down.
I should’ve told him about the job. I need to tell him about it, but what am I even going to say?
Do I even want the opportunity? Dallas is a half a day’s drive away from here. I’ve never been that far away from home, not for good. Plus, what does that mean for this.
I wouldn’t see the kids anymore. I wouldn’t see Cash, though I suppose that was the plan all along. None of this was ever supposed to be permanent. After last night, though, I wish it were.
The way Cash held me in his arms. The way he restrained himself from touching me. The feral growl in his throat as he repressed every filthy urge… he wants more than my body.
He wants me.
And though it’s terribly wrong in every sense, I want him too.
A chill runs down my spine and through my thighs as I think of his rough hands on my skin. This… is the part I need to stop sinking into. It was one night. One night and nothing really even happened. He just watched me touch myself a little.
No big deal.
That happens to people all the time, right?
My chest tightens and my panties dampen as a crack of thunder shakes the old farmhouse floor. It’s the jolt I need to get moving.
I pull on my raincoat, put my hood up, and step out into the yard where rain sheets in silver curtains. I’m glad I took the time to pack breakfast away in Tupperware. I was going to carry it down on a plate, like I usually do.
The sky is gray, despite the sun coming up hours ago.
Usually, I don’t care for dark and dreary days, but there’s something about this particular scene that evokes a sense of cozy wistfulness.
It reminds me of the colder months, when the days end early and the windows along Main Street glow like beacons against the dark.
Out here, the only light comes from the barn. A big, gray washed building with a pale yellow bulb flickering above an old workbench. Cash is bent over it, swinging his hammer in slow, solid blows. His biceps flexing, as his shoulders tighten.
The closer I get, the more the scene unfolds. Leather spread out in front of him. A saddle. He’s securing something metallic on a saddle.
I’m nearly to the barn doors when I see the roof bowing under the weight of the rain, a support beam that looks warped or water damaged, and another flickering light, probably from some unstable wiring.
Red flags go off in my head as I analyze every risk, though none of them supersede the natural response my body has to be next to him again.
“Knock, knock.” I smile as I duck under the old tin roof, rain drumming in a steady rhythm that makes the whole world feel smaller. The warm scent of leather and hay rise to meet me, threaded with the faintest hint of pine.
I’ve never once thought of a barn as romantic, but as the light from the flickering bulb wraps the space in a gentle shimmer that catches on cobwebs like tiny constellations, I stand corrected.
It’s beautifully imperfect. Then again, I’m pretty sure a dusty, dumpster-lined alley would feel romantic with a guy that looks like Cash.
He glances toward me and smiles like it’s the first time he smiled in an hour.
“Thank Jesus you’re here. You have no idea how much I could use a break right now.
” He tugs off his work gloves and takes a step toward me, his hand on my hip as he pulls me in for a hug.
“Sorry I had to run out the door. How were the kids this morning?”
“Umm,” I grin, handing him the coffee and food I’ve brought, “they were very powered up. Cora insisted on chocolate chips with sprinkles and Jake wanted caramel sauce.” I narrow my brows playfully. “Candy breakfast may have gotten out of hand.”
He grins and bites into his own chocolate chip pancake with sprinkles. “You really are good at this.”
I nod once solidly and watch as he keeps eating, one big bite after another. The rough rasp in his throat as he chews. His big, rough hand gripping the fork. His dirty jeans. The salt and pepper in his beard.
Why does he have to be so insanely masculine?
Why does he have to be so insanely hot?
Any other friend of my dad’s could’ve needed a nanny, and I wouldn’t be feeling this way right now. Heck, I’d have already packed my bag and been halfway to Dallas.
“I mean it,” he continues, still eating. “I really appreciate you and everything you’re doing for my family. I hope last night doesn’t complicate that.”
My stomach fills with butterflies. Big ones. I’m talking Queen Alexandra Birdwing butterflies. The ones with an eleven-inch wingspan. I learned about them in one of Jake’s animal books.
I glanced down at the cracked cement floor of the barn and nod before I glance back up again. “Of course. I love you guys.”
A swell of heat rises up my spine. Did I just tell him I loved him?
“I mean, I love you guys like… I care about you guys, like family. Like… not in the crazy way, but like the kind of love you have for your soccer team because you all… train all day together and you’re getting ice cream at the end of the season because you won the tournament.”
Did any of that make sense? All I can think about is my blazing hot face.
Cash laughs and crosses his arms over his chest, his dark gaze on mine. “Well, you should know we love you too… like a soccer team kind of love.”
I can’t help but smile as he leans back on his stool and stares at me. It’s the same electricity we had on the beach yesterday. The same spark that left me sopping wet with thoughts of pinning him to the floor to ride his cock until he filled me up.
“Well,” I manage, desperate to change the subject, “this place is pretty incredible.”
He nods once and takes a long sip of coffee. “I think so. It’s a lot of work but I think the kids will remember it fondly.”
A miniature donkey brays beside us and I jump. “Oh! How did I miss you before?”
“She’s usually out in the pasture. Cora had to have her last year for her birthday.”
“Oh wow! That’s a big gift.”
“Tell me about it.” He grins as he says, “I must have said no at least ten times, then she cried, and well… there’s Dolly.”
I laugh as my chest warms. “Was this always your dream?”
He draws in a deep breath and lets it out slowly.
“Yeah, I guess. I grew up visiting my grandparents here. When they passed away, they gave the place to their son, and when he passed away, they were going to put the farm up for sale. I couldn’t let it go to someone else, so I bought it.
There’s something special about the land here.
I… couldn’t imagine it not belonging to my family.
Just feels like a part of me.” He shrugs.
“The distillery dream belonged to a few of my brothers and they needed investors. So, I invested and we’ve opened the three locations within five years.
The two in the springs are doing really well. The one in town here, not so much.”
“I heard about the crew at Mullet’s bar messing with you all. The small-town loyalty is good in some respects, but not so much in others.”
He draws his hand down over his beard. “Honestly, I should’ve seen it coming. Hopefully, tonight’s party should bring everyone together. It’s the official premier of Dad’s whiskey at the distillery.” He takes another sip of coffee. “What about you? You always dream of being a risk analyst?”
“No,” I laugh, “not at all. I fell backwards into it after my photography dreams plummeted.”
“What happened?”
I shrug. “My parents were very adamant that I did not waste tuition money on anything artsy. So, I went to college for business and fell backwards into the risk analyst thing. At first, I thought it kind of fit because I’ve always been a worrier and my brain immediately goes to seeing threats first. Like when I first got here, I saw that fence and then learned that the kids like to play in the pastures with the animals.
My brain was firing a mile a minute, telling me constantly that this place was a death trap.
” I glance up at the groaning rafter, smiling playfully as I say, “I mean, this place scares the hell out of me.”
He shrugs and shakes his head, swallowing back a grin. “The place could use some upgrades, but that rafter’s been threatening to fall since my granddad’s day. Just likes the attention.”
“Right. Concrete, splinters, character-building near-death experiences… it’s all part of owning a ranch, I guess.”
“True story.” He nods as water pools outside the barn doors.
“I am worried about this flooding, though. I need to get out back by the creek and move some gravel around before the day is done. You, ugh, you should bring your camera down to the barn sometime. There’s plenty to photograph.
We’ve got loads of questionable subjects to highlight, some even more dangerous than the attention-seeking rafter. ”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I haven’t taken a picture in a really long time. I had to sell my camera so I could pay for repairs on my car a couple of years ago.”
“Do you still think about taking pictures?”
“Oh yeah! I think about it all the time. When my dad would take us fishing, I’d lift up the rocks and take really interesting close-up shots of the bugs I found. I had this macro lens that made a stonefly nymph look just like a dragon.”
“I like this about you,” he says, standing from the stool to hang the saddle back on the hook by the gate. “You’ve always been a curious person. Even when you were young, you were—”
He stops himself and turns away, his jaw tightening.
“What was I?” I swallow hard as I ask, knowing full well why he stopped talking.
It’s awkward. It’s weird. It’s totally screwed up that Cash knew me when I was younger.
He glances back toward me before tossing a bale of hay in with the donkey. “You were curious. You’ve always been curious.”