Girl Who Drank Wine
CASH
AUGUST
What the hell was wrong with me?
My heart thumped in my chest like some drummer in a death metal band, my blood pulsed like I’d been injected with electricity, and even when I closed my eyes, all I could think of was the set of her mismatched ones shining right back at me.
Long raven-colored hair with a chunk of white that framed the right side of her face.
Miles of tan, tattooed skin, and did I catch a glimpse of intricate artwork between those D-cups?
They had to be at least D’s—not that I was even looking… much.
Which I knew was wrong, but, fuck, it was impossible not to look at her. Not when she looked the way she did.
It’s not even like she was asking for attention.
She demanded it. She wanted you to look.
Wanted you to stare. From the black low-cut top showing off tits most women paid lots of money for, a mouth I could imagine doing unspeakable things to, and a smoky, bedroom voice that sent shivers down my spine…
Fuck. Get a hold of yourself, Big Daddy.
Thankfully, Quinn Decker and her best friend Whit came up just then, breaking up our conversation before I could wind up in dangerous territory. Not that I wasn’t in it already. I shouldn’t ever have brought Jacie Lynn tonight. But Mama had all but begged me.
I glanced back toward my group, finding Jacie and Mama talking.
Introducing the two of them hadn’t been one of my smartest moments.
It was gonna break her heart when I let Jacie Lynn go.
And I would let her go. Just as soon as I could figure out a way to do it without completely destroying her.
She was too sweet, too kind, and understanding.
I’d been with so many damn women, but I’d never met one as innocent as her.
I’d found it intoxicating at first, but it didn’t take long to realize I wasn’t a sweets guy. I needed some fire. Some spice.
Turning my attention back toward Quinn and Whit, I tried to ignore the gorgeous raven-haired bartender. But I didn’t miss the little whisper in my mind, saying, I needed someone like her.
“Ladies,” I said with a smile, tipping my hat to the two of them. “Y’all are lookin’ particularly pretty tonight.”
Quinn grinned, bright and warm. Hux sure as hell lucked out with her. “Well, thank you. You’re looking particularly—”
I didn’t even give her time to come up with an answer. “Handsome? Debonair?”
“Spell debonair,” the raven-haired girl snorted from behind the bar.
Giving into the temptation like a moth to a flame, I found myself locking eyes with her mismatched ones.
Blue—so icy and light it almost looked white—and a light golden green.
I couldn’t fight the chuckle that rumbled out of my chest. “Now that’s a bit too big of a word for a humble cowboy like me. ”
“Humble?” Whit burst into a fit of laughter. “So that’s what you’re calling yourself nowadays?”
I scoffed, clutching a hand to my heart even as a playful grin lit up my face. “Miss Quinn, tell them they’re wrong.”
She grinned and gently patted my arm. “I wish I could,” she replied sweetly, offering me a guilty smile.
“Y’all are mean,” I huffed, earning a laugh from them all. The bartender included. God, the sound was intoxicating. Not even Quinn and Whit could distract me from her. Just leave, dumbass. But it’s like my feet were stuck in cement.
“Hey ya, Cash,” a familiar voice called, followed by a clap to my shoulder. I glanced to my right at my Uncle Goodie.
“What can I get you, sugar?” the bartender asked.
He ordered a Coors, because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter if Goodie dressed in his fancy business cowboy attire, he was a good ol’ boy through and through and liked his beer with the mountains blue.
“Who is that?” Whit breathed, quiet enough that Uncle Goodie hadn’t heard—I think.
My gaze turned quizzical as I glanced between Whit and my uncle. “That’s my Uncle Goodie. Why?”
Whit smoothed out her black, body-hugging gown and stood a bit taller, her gaze flicking to Goodie once more. Holy shit. Was she into older dudes?
My uncle—my poor, oblivious, bashful uncle—noticed her scalding stare and fumbled with his beer, on accident knocking it over on the bartop like the clutz he was.
I swear, I don’t know how he could be so incredibly successful and yet so fucking dopey sometimes.
He cursed, his gaze flicking back up to Whit.
A look of surprise and disbelief washed over him.
I mean, he was a good looking dude, so she had good taste, but, like, he was at least twenty years older. She was into that?
“He’s so cute,” she whispered to Quinn, before pushing away from the bar and taking a step around me toward him. “Hi there, I’m Whit. Wanna buy me a drink?”
Well, hot damn. She sure as hell was into that.
I turned to my uncle, finding him open-mouthed and all but gasping for breath as he glanced between me and Whit, his hazel Mooney eyes shining with bafflement. “I um… I…”
God, he was such a fuckin’ lost cause. With a sly grin, I nudged him with an elbow. “Well, order the girl a drink, Goodie. Damn.”
I was aware of the bartender’s gaze. This was as good a time as any to slip away. I had to, before I did something really fucking stupid. Tipping my hat to her, I said, “Have a nice night, Miss.” I turned to Quinn. “Lovely party, Quinnie girl.”
I’d already tucked tail and was walking away when her smokey, seductive voice rang out over the music, “It’s Ollie, not Miss.”
Ollie. I liked that. I turned back and winked at her. “See you around, Miss Ollie.”
And then I faced forward once more and kept walking. Past Ryder and Maverick. Past Chey and Charlie and my parents. Past Jacie Lynn, whose denim blue gaze bore into me with the heat of a thousand suns.
I couldn't even look at her. God, I was a fucking piece of shit. A damn selfish fool.
I didn’t stop until I reached the front yard, making my way over to the fountain with the statue in it, wishing like hell I’d run into Hux or someone who had a smoke. But, no such luck.
“You okay?” That deep, dour, and all too familiar tone dragged my gaze. Maverick wore his usual of all black, his Stetson hat casting his face in shadow. But I didn’t need to see his face to know there’d be a scowl on his lips.
“Yeah, why would you think any different?” I asked, hoping he didn’t push.
“Cuz you look like you just saw a ghost,” he replied, coming up beside me.
So much for not pushing. His words made me frown though. “What’re you talkin’ about?” Why was he talking about ghosts?
Maverick tilted his head, exposing enough of his face that I could see the knowing look shining in his bright jade eyes. “You can’t tell me she don’t remind you of her.”
The way he said it. Her. My mind drifted back, back, back.
To ten years ago when we were just two dumb eighteen year olds in love.
To sneaking her out of her parents’ house and stolen kisses in the middle of the night.
To when things were simpler, and I wasn’t so callous and broken.
To raven-colored hair and a coppery tan.
My mind drifted back to her. Dakota.
I thought of the bartender and I huffed.
Was that why I was so drawn to her? Mav wasn’t wrong, they shared some eye-catching features, but that’s where the similarities stopped.
“They ain’t that much alike.” I pointed toward the direction of the house, the direction of the party.
“She ain’t nothin’ like Dakota. That girl ain’t like no one I’ve ever met before. ”
Even as I said it, a shiver slithered down my spine.
Maverick’s scowl somehow deepened, as if that were even possible. “You say that about all of ‘em. Remember what you said about Jacie Lynn?”
I fought back a snarl. This girl was different, but I’d used that line too many times for it to hold any weight.
Maverick continued on before I could offer up a response. “Besides, you came with Jacie. You’re gonna leave with Jacie.”
“Aren’t you the one tellin’ me to break up with her?”
“Yeah, but not at a damn fundraiser for our friend.” He loosed a sigh and rubbed at his forehead.
Somehow, despite the fact he was a dad of a newborn, the owner of a ranch and also still competing in the pro circuit with me, his source of exhaustion didn’t seem to be from all that, but from me, and me alone.
Guilt wriggled like a worm on a damn hook in my stomach.
“Last thing you need to do is cause a scene. Or give people any more reason to talk about you and that girl tendin’ bar. ”
Stubbornness won out over the guilt. “We was just talkin’.”
And, okay, yeah, maybe a bit of flirting, but I wasn’t planning on doing anything with her. Honest to God.
The look Maverick gave me was one of complete and utter disbelief. “You were all but eye fuckin’ her, Cash. Everyone saw. Includin’ Jacie.”
God, I hated that fucking look. That disapproving tone. “I wasn’t even the one who started it. She did.”
“That may be true, but you should have ended it.” Another soul-weary sigh. “Why’d you even bring Jacie Lynn anyway, huh? Why’re you ridin’ this out so long? Everyone knows it ain’t gonna last.”
A muscle feathered in my jaw as I clenched my teeth together. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, asshole.”
Maverick had the decency to look apologetic, at least. “I’m not sayin’ it to be a dick. I just…I want you to be happy. And I think it’s clear it ain’t with that poor girl.”
I blew out a deep breath, willing the anger thrumming to life in my veins to turn to ice.
“You wouldn’t get it,” I ground out. He wouldn’t get it if I told him that I was trying to be better.
That I wanted to be better. He’d laugh if I said that each morning, each time I saw him look at Stormie Mae or the way Ryder held Railon, each look they shared with their women, that I wanted that happily ever after more and more.
I wanted it to be Jacie, but I’d been wrong.
Really damn wrong.
“Cash…” I met my cousin’s stare. “You don’t have to make yourself miserable to prove you can be in a relationship.”
I bit back a curse. A whole string of curses. Leave it to Mav to see right through me. Sometimes I think he knew me better than I knew myself. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” I lied through my teeth.
He let out a defeated sigh, sensing a battle he wouldn’t win. “Look, I can’t say I agree with the panty droppin’, buckle bunny chasin’ act, but I sure as hell prefer that to this version of you. This…this ain’t the Cash I know.” And the way he said it, with such sadness, such dejection…
Well, fuck.
Why the hell did disappointing Mav fill me with the same sort of sad, guilty feeling that watching those damn homeless animal commercials made me feel?
He was right, though. This wasn’t me.
It’s not that I didn’t want a relationship, not that I wouldn’t mind settling down for the right girl. But I hadn’t found her yet. I might not ever find her. Not after Dakota broke my heart and stomped it so fucking hard she shattered all the pieces into nothing more than splinters and dust.
Dakota.
How could my heart both yearn for and hate someone so much at the same time? I wondered how life would be if things had gone differently. Would I be this way still or would I have settled down?
I’d never know. But I did know it was easier to blame her than take responsibility for the real villain in this story.
And that was me.
“Dakota did a real number on me, didn’t she?” I huffed, guilt clenching around my heart.
Mav nodded on a sigh. “Yeah, but that don’t mean you gotta do it to this girl.”
God I needed a pinch of snuff or a smoke—neither of which Jacie was incredibly fond of. Fuck. I needed to break up with her, but Mav was right, doing it here wasn’t the right thing to do. I’d do it soon. For now, well… I needed a drink or something.
The bartender—Ollie—came to mind, a jolt of desire thundering through my veins.
Fuck me.
I could be cordial. Professional. I hadn’t cheated on Jacie yet, and I wouldn’t do it now. Besides, maybe Maverick was right. Maybe I only felt like there was something there because of who she looked like. I managed to ward off Dakota's memory more often than not, I could forget about Ollie.
Hopefully.