Cash's Fight (The Last Riders 5) - Page 30

“Hi, Shade, Cash.” Jace and his friend came to a stop at the bikes.

“Hey, Jace, Cal.”

Cash was surprised Jace and Cal were friends. Cal came from one of the poorest families in town while Jace was from the wealthiest. It was a mismatched pair, but the two had been firm friends since preschool.

“Can we talk?” Shade’s expression made it seem important.

“Sure.” The boy’s chest puffed up that someone like Shade had deliberately sought him out while Cal’s expression became impassive and watchful.

“Your dad will be here any minute.”

Cash had to admire the kid for trying to watch out for his friend.

“This won’t take long. I have a favor to ask. Cash here wants to make friends with those cousins of yours. I was hoping you could hook him up with a helping hand. Of course, I could help you out with something you’re wanting real badly, too. I have an extra bike I don’t need any more. You would have to get your dad’s permission and get your motorcycle license, but it would be yours, free of charge.”

Of course the boy was a Porter, and he was suspicious of their motives, despite the gleam in his eyes when the motorcycle had been mentioned. “Why do you want to become friends with them? They hate your guts.”

Cash winced at his blunt question. “I was hoping you could help me out with that problem. I’m going to be straight with you: I don’t give a shit about your cousins, but Rachel won’t go out with me without their permission.”

As the two boys looked at each other and burst into laughter, Cash shifted uncomfortably on his bike.

“You have a whole clubhouse of chicks, and Rach is giving you trouble?”

At Cash’s silence, their laughter continued.

“Do we have a deal?” Thank God Shade intervened because he was about to kick another Porter’s ass and doom any hope he had of getting Rachel.

“Yeah, I’ll help. But let’s be clear, if he hurts my cousin again, I’ll tell my dad, and believe me, if you think Rachel’s brothers are a pain to deal with, he will become your own personal nightmare.”

“I have no intention of hurting Rachel,” Cash said through clenched teeth. He was going to have to take a couple of Valiums just to steady his nerves when he was around anyone with the last name Porter.

“Cool, it’s settled then,” Shade intervened once again, seeing Cash’s temper wearing thin.

“I’m going hunting with them this weekend. We’ve been dying to hunt on your private land. We could stay the night at your cabin. That would win some brownie points with them.”

Cash wasn’t anxious for them to be anywhere near him with loaded weapons, but Jace was right. That property was marked no trespassing, and everyone in the county knew it held a large number of game.

“All right. Set it up. I’ll pick you guys up Saturday morning at five a.m.”

“We better go,” Shade warned.

Cash looked up the street and spotted the cherry-colored Porsche at the red light, ready to pull into the theater’s parking lot.

“Later,” Cash said, starting his motor.

While both men rode out as Drake pulled in, Cash lifted his hand in acknowledgment. It couldn’t have gone better.

Cash enjoyed the ride back to Mag’s house, already anticipating the feel of Rachel’s lips on his dick.

* * *

Cash stood in the doorway, watching Rachel work with her plants. Her gentle hands worked with them like they were precious jewels instead of seedlings in clumps of dirt.

“Where’s Mag?”

Rachel jumped at the sound of his voice.

“She went to bed a few minutes ago.” She looked at him through the veil of her lashes. “I didn’t cook any extra for dinner. I didn’t expect you back tonight.”

Cash frowned. “Why not?” He had already eaten at the diner with Shade, but it still pissed him off for some reason.

As she turned bright red, Cash couldn’t keep the smug grin from his face.

“Don’t tell me you thought I spent the night at the clubhouse last night and was going to do it again tonight.”

“What you do is none of my business.” She kept fiddling with her plants.

“I didn’t go there when I left here last night. I went to Rosie’s, where I had a meeting. That’s when I got the call from Knox and spent the night chasing after that cousin of yours.”

“Oh.” Rachel shrugged. “Like I said, it’s none of my business. I could make you something if you’re hungry, though.”

Cash was tempted, just to have her do something for him, but he saw she was busy and he was still full. “That’s okay. I’m not really hungry.”

Cash saw no reason to alleviate the guilty expression on her face. He was a self-admitted bastard, and he planned to use the opportunity to gain something he wanted.

“You could give me your cell phone number, and the next time I’m late, I could give you a call or you could call me.”

Rachel bit her lip. “All right.”

Cash felt he had won a minor victory. He already had her cell phone number, but he wanted to establish a more intimate bond between them under her radar. Her defenses were so raised against him he had to insert himself into her life by small degrees.

He pretended to key her number into his phone. When he was done, he walked around the transformed room, which had remained empty as long as he could remember. Mag used to say that, if the good Lord had meant for you to sit your ass in the sun, he wouldn’t have created shade. Now, every time he entered the room, he saw more and more plants.

A machine bubbling in the corner drew his interest. He walked closer and saw it was a large fish tank, but he had never seen one set up this way. He had seen several tanks set up for survivalists to make purified drinking water, yet he had never seen anything like this one.

“This is amazing. You did this?”

“Yes. I’ve been working on it for a while. I have another set up at my home, but I wanted to see if it worked as well with larger tanks.”

“Does it?”

“Yes.”

“Damn, Rachel. I’m really impressed. Now I see why you’re spending so much time back here. I was wondering why you don’t see your clients anymore. Several of the customers coming into the church store have been asking Lily why you’re not taking their calls anymore,” Cash asked curiously.

When she turned, going back to spraying the plants, Cash looked at her stiff back, guilt hitting him. “Rachel, your clients aren’t going to say anything about me opening my big mouth.”

“It’s getting late. I need to get to bed. Night, Cash.”

He watched her leave the room. Hearing the closing of her bedroom door, he turned the lights off in the room and went into the kitchen to get himself a beer. Every time he took a step forward with Rachel, he ended up taking two steps backward. He felt like he was never going to be able to reach her.

“Got one for me?” Mag asked as she rolled herself into the kitchen.

“Yeah.” Cash reached into the refrigerator, pulling her out a beer.

Some people might think it was strange drinking a beer with their eighty-eight-year-old grandmother, but Cash didn’t. She had never done a proper thing in her life. When she was sixteen, she had run off with a carnie worker and married him. After three years on the road, she had returned to Treepoint with him in tow and two babies. Her husband had become hurt and could no longer do the rigorous work of putting the tents up and down.

Her parents had given her hell but had opened their doors to the family. Everyone had expected her husband—Cash had privately believed there wasn’t a marriage certificate—to not be able to support his family, but he had proven them wrong, working in the mill yard and saving enough money to buy a piece of property. It was the same property he had built the original log home on with his own two hands, managing to buy the scrap lumber for it. They had been married fifty-six years when he had died, and Cash still remembered that day along with his gr

andmother’s face as they had become concerned when he hadn’t returned from a fishing trip. They had found him peacefully lying on the bank; he had passed away while doing what he loved.

For the first time, his strong-as-a-rock grandmother had broken, begging God to undo what they had found. Losing a man he had admired and loved had been heart-rending for Cash, as well.

She now sat in a wheelchair, studying him as she drank her beer.

“I used to go to your football games and watch you make play after play. The harder the game, the harder you played, Cash.”

“I got knocked around plenty.” He took a drink of his beer.

“Yes, you did. Remember when we played Jamestown and we were losing? Everyone had given up. The crowd wasn’t even yelling; people were leaving. It was raining and freezing. Parents were standing by metal trashcans, lighting fires to stay warm. Most miserable night of my fucking life, but the proudest I’d ever been of you. The more defeated those other boys became, the more determined you were. You made those touchdowns that won the game. You never quit, and you don’t know how to lose gracefully. Don’t start now when you could lose the biggest prize of your life. She’s worth the fight.”

Cash set his beer down on the counter. “I know she is, but she hates me. I fucked up, Gram.”

“I know you did. A woman don’t get that look in her eye unless she’s been hurt past what her heart can bear, but I have faith in you. Seduce her. You’ve had to have learned a thing or two after all I’ve heard about you.”

Cash arched his brow at his grandmother.

“I’m old, not senile.” His grandmother finished her beer. “I’m giving you the same advice I gave your father, but he was too arrogant to listen. Court, seduce, or better yet, knock her up. I’d like to see my great-grandchild before I die, but don’t let that girl get away from you. She’s a good woman, Cash.”

“I know she is,” Cash said softly.

“Good. Now I’m going to bed.” The old woman turned her wheelchair around to leave.

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