19. Cash
Chapter Nineteen
Cash
The next morning, Haven readies herself for work way earlier than she needs to, because I need to get into town to open the garage.
It’s something to see her sharing coffee with Zane, him dressed for a day mucking out the barns, her in a sundress, her pretty painted toes peeping out of retro sandals.
“Ready to go?” she asks me as I take her coffee cup and swallow a big sip before refilling it for her.
“We’ve got time for you to finish your coffee.”
She lifts her face and gives me a private smile. “Our coffee?”
Fuck. Yes.
“I’ll get Riley to open tomorrow so we don’t have to go in so early,” I murmur when Zane busies himself with taking bacon out of the oven.
“I don’t mind.”
She’s so sweet to me as I upend her entire life. “I do. I want you to be comfortable. Do you drive?”
She doesn’t own a car.
She laughs behind the coffee mug. “Yes, I drive. What, are you going to let me take your big truck?”
I would.
But I have a better idea. I have a small SUV I bought off a customer last February. Solid bones, new tires. It needed some cosmetic work that I’ve since done. I’ve been meaning to flip it, but didn’t get around to listing it.
Won’t be listing it now.
I don’t tell her about it until the end of the day.
I have it waiting out front when she comes across the street, her bag over her shoulder, shading her eyes against the afternoon sun.
“What’s this?” she asks when I hold out the keys.
“Your new wheels.”
She stares at the keys. Then at the car. Finally, at me. “No.”
“It costs me nothing. As much as I like ferrying you back and forth from the ranch, I don’t want you to have to get out the door earlier than you need to. And I’m not always across the street. I like the idea of you always having a vehicle at the ready.”
She searches my face, looking for the catch. There isn’t one, but I don’t blame her for expecting one, given the conditional relationship she had with her uncle.
Her mouth softens into an appreciative smile. “I can buy it from you.”
The hell she can. “You’re just borrowing a car from a friend. It’s not a big deal.”
She takes a hesitant step toward me, then surges, smacking right into my chest as she wraps her arms around my waist. “It’s a very big deal. Thank you.”
“You’re my girl. I gotta treat you right.” I kiss the top of her head, ignoring the thick lump forming in my throat.
I should let her get in the car. But even after I let her go, I crowd her against the driver’s door instead.
She tips her head up and laughs, her throat working. I plant my hand on the car and hold her chin. The sun catches the bronze in her hair and there’s never been a more perfect moment in my life than right now.
“You check in when you get home,” I say. “Text me.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
“I know.”
I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Good girl. Drive safe.”
The next morning, Riley opens, so I follow Haven into town. But then I stay at the garage late, and I’m not right behind her when she drives home.
But she texts me as soon as she arrives, so my worry only lasts for fifteen minutes.
Haven
Safe at the ranch
Cash
That’s what I like to hear
When I finally get back to the ranch, she’s changed into jeans and a t-shirt, and is elbows deep in flour, making bread with my mother.
And not just any t-shirt. Not one of her usual Sunday school teacher shirts. Luna must have given her a hand-me-down for the messy kitchen task, because Free Range Human is stretched tight over Haven’s generous tits.
“What’s going on here?” I ask, trying not to stare at the bounce and jiggle of a dusting of flour.
“Getting bread ready for tomorrow.” She huffs a breath at an errant strand of dark red silk that’s fallen over her forehead.
I lean in and tuck it securely behind her ear. “What’s tomorrow?”
“We’re throwing Hope a secret bridal shower,” she whispers, her eyes twinkling. “Really just a girly picnic, no boys allowed. No offence.”
“None taken. I think this is probably a picnic my mother has been looking forward to for thirty years.”
“Oh, shush,” Luna says from the other side of the counter. “But also, get out. I’m bonding with your girlfriend. There are sandwiches in the fridge.”
I snag one of them, as well as a bottle of root beer. “In that case, thank you very much. I’ll enjoy the heck out of these, and then mow the lawn.”
“Don’t forget to give the—”
“Grass clippings to the chickens, I know, Ma. I know.”
By the time I finish with the riding mower, Haven has drifted outside to watch me.
“I like your shirt,” I murmur when she joins me, after I yank her into my arms and give her a proper kiss hello.
“Thanks,” she says breathlessly. “It’s not my usual style.”
“Makes your tits look good.”
“It’s my new style, then.” She giggles. “At least on the ranch.”
I’m not going to argue with her instincts to keep the tight t-shirt for my eyes only.
I unhitch the bagger attachment and gesture for her to follow me in the direction of the chicken coop.
The chickens are so delighted with the grass clippings that they make a racket, which brings Bellamy running, my mother close behind her.
“Now we’ve got drama,” I say.
Bellamy gets really close to Haven and whispers, “They’re scary.”
“So scary she loves them,” Luna says.
Haven crouches down and scoops one of the squawking chickens into her arms. “This little dinosaur scares you?”
Bellamy giggles and goes closer to her. “Yes.”
“You seem pretty brave to me.” Haven shifts her hold, and suddenly, Bellamy is mostly holding the chicken in her little arms.
They stay like that, heads pressed together, the chicken ruffling its feathers between them, until Bellamy starts to move away. Haven smoothly shifts the chicken to the ground and stands, giving the little girl space to get closer to the next bird she sets her eyes on with autonomy.
“Smooth,” I whisper as Haven comes to stand next to me.
“I recognized the look in her eye. It’s the same way people of all ages look at a book they aren’t sure they should be reading. Little kids wanting to try a chapter book, adults wanting to read a romance novel. All you gotta do is let them know it’s okay to crack the spine and have a look inside.”
“You’re a genius.”
“Just a girl who likes to help people get over their fears.”
“And who helps you get over your fears?”
She bites her lower lip, fighting back a secret smile.
“Last night, you did,” she whispers when there’s a loud cluck and a rustle of feathers to hide her words under.
“What are you afraid of that we can tackle tonight?”
She twists away, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright.
Sharing secrets with her is the best.
As it happens, we don’t end up fooling around that night, and that’s also totally the best in a different way.
She brings a book to bed, and I’ve got one, too, I always do, so we read for a bit, her head on my shoulder. And before I know it, her book folds closed, because she’s drifted off.
I take it out of her hands and mark her page before I turn out the light.
She’s extra soft when she’s asleep, and as I listen to the house settle around us, and feel her even breaths rise and fall, I think how fucking lucky I am that she stormed across the street and kissed me in front of Jeb Martin.
How lucky I am to get to have her as mine, if only for a summer. If only for a ruse. I don’t fucking care. She’s everything to me, regardless of the original reason that drove her into my arms.
And as I drift off, I think to myself that I haven’t slept this well, or this deeply, since before I joined the army.