by Alla Kar
Cash slowly nodded his head, those fingers that’d been hard against the door beside me, stroked my neck gently. “He’ll never make you feel like I do, Peach. I can prove that to you.”
I smiled. “I don’t need you to prove that to me, Cash. I’ll never feel for Jacob like I do for you. He’s a distant memory that brings back the good and bad times. But I know good and damn well that he’ll never make me feel like you.”
Cash leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine with an urgency that filled my soul. It wasn’t until I felt Cash’s entire demeanor change that I realized Cash’s need. He didn’t show it, and I didn’t think he knew it himself. He needed that reassurance from me like I had needed attention from men to feel whole.
He didn’t believe I cared about him just as much as I was unsure about his feelings toward me. It made me want him even more. Cash had secrets that I didn’t know yet, but I knew I’d sure as hell find out.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sydney
The top half of the building was under construction, but the bottom was nothing but pure white marble and flawless edges. It looked like something out of a magazine.
A wide, white wall stood behind the front receptionist desk, which I imagined would be my canvas. It almost felt wrong to put any color on anything, a piece of dirt would have looked like a pink elephant in the room.
“Do you like it?” Cash asked.
I nodded slowly. “How often will you be here when it opens?”
“I’ll probably do most of the traveling; I can’t trust Asher to do anything, especially if a woman is in a five-mile radius.”
That sounded about right. I ran my fingers against the cool, white marble, imagining how modern and perfect everything would look when it was finished. The thought of him being hours away settled uneasily in my stomach. I didn’t like it. I’d never been that girl, the girl that couldn’t live without a guy, or the girl who cried when I was away from someone. Granted, I’d never had a relationship before.
Cash gripped my shoulders from behind, his mouth close to my ear. “What’s wrong?”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to admit anything. I knew enough about boys to know they didn’t like clingy, and I wasn’t going to be that person. “Nothing. Just imagining what I’d paint here.”
He made a soft sound, his large hands turning me to face him. Those crystal green eyes were softer than before, a look of concern coated his face. “You’re not a good liar, Peach.”
I raised a brow, trying to hide the truth that I didn’t realize my face showed. “I’m not—,”
Cash hissed out a sigh, dragging me closer. “Let’s cut the crap. What were you thinkin’ about?”
Sighing, I dropped my eyes to the floor, admiring the perfect white tile beneath us. “I was thinking about you bein’ gone to Dallas and me being in Savannah.”
I didn’t lift my eyes to see the look on his face, but after a few seconds, he lifted my chin with his fingers. “You think I would leave for weeks at a time without you?”
My heart thumped rapidly in my chest. “What would I do about work—,”
“We’ll figure it out, Peach,” he said calmly. I felt my body soaking in his words, believing everything those perfect lips told me. I’d never believed anything a male had told me. It didn’t take long to realize they’d say whatever to get in your pants, but he’d already been there, a few times, and he hadn’t left.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Cash’s hand slid down my arm to interlace with my own fingers. “Now, it looks like we have to go get ready for dinner with your … friend.”
I tried to hide my smile but failed miserably. “He is my friend, Cash.” I reached up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “Just my friend.”
He searched my face, for what I didn’t know, and tugged me toward the door.
The BBQ from Woodshed Smokehouse wasn’t all Cash had swallowed; his pride went along with it. I’d felt the hostility as soon as we walked into the room. When Jacob had wrapped me in a tight hug, his cheek pressed against my own, I’d felt the tightness in Cash’s fists.
“How did you start working for Mr. Jenkins?” Jacob leaned back against his seat; a beer rested in his hand.
I took a sip of my sweet tea, clearing the sweet honey BBQ on my tongue. “He was at a dinner with my parents. I met him there.”
Jacob glanced over at Cash. “You’ve been to one of their Friday night dinners? Fun, huh?”
Cash hadn’t loosened his fingers around his beer, but his shoulders relaxed some. “So much. I loved how they complain about Sydney the entire time.”
Jacob’s dark eyes met mine. “Things have gotten worse for you?”
I shrugged. “Mom’s always been a bitch; you know that.”
He leaned forward, his palm reaching out to hold mine. “But she’s worse now because of Ryder.”
I nodded, holding back the flood of tears that threatened the gates. “She’s been horrible toward me since then. You know they blame me.”
Jacob swallowed. “They’re idiots. It wasn’t your fault, you know that. You didn’t make him get in that tree, Syd.”
I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Crying in front of a restaurant full of people didn’t sound appealing. I shrugged my shoulders and wiped at a stray tear. “I know, I’m fine. They just need time to heal.”
They’d had three years to forgive me, but I knew that they’d never be completely over it. Not really. I’d just always told myself that they’d stop treating me so different after a while. “So, how is the logo business going? I saw your website. Fancy stuff.”
Jacob smiled. “Yeah. It’s been going great. I just finished a job for the new coffee chain that opened down the street from your job.”
“Someone’s moving up in the world. I saw that logo. It’s awesome.”
He rolled his eyes, before looking over at Cash, who hadn’t said more than two words since we’d walked in. “I have nothing compared to the guy over here. I remember when you opened and how my professors were so proud. They all thought they’d gotten you there.”
A small smile formed on Cash’s lips. “They helped me a lot,” he said. “But having my brother’s support was what kept me going. Going solo, I probably wouldn’t have made it so easily.”
Jacob nodded, smiling at the waitress as she cleared out plates. “You ever think about updating your logo? You’ve had the same one since when? Five years?”
Cash leaned forward. “What did you have in mind?”
An hour later, Cash and Jacob were laughing. Laughing, I shit you not. I’d sat back in my chair, amazed at how the night had changed. The tight fists and cold looks had turned into shoulder slaps and wide grins.
After Jacob had pulled out his sketch book and shown Cash some of his designs, and his ideas for The Jenkins’ Brother, Cash had immediately turned the page.
“You’re fuckin’ brilliant,” Cash said, chugging his third beer. “I’ll definitely run these by my brother, and we’ll pick one we like the most.” He turned to look at me, those green eyes full of excitement. “Which one do you like the most, Peach?”
Jacob smiled at me. “Peach? I guess that does kind of fit her, huh? A Georgia Peach?”
Heat tingled my cheeks. I rolled my eyes and pointed to the third drawing. “That one.”
Cash wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my temple. “That’s my favorite, too.”
I felt Jacob’s eyes on me, but I didn’t meet them. I’d never been serious about anything, and I was sure that Jacob knew that. There was no way he hadn’t seen the papers over the last few years, showing all my mistakes in print for everyone in Savannah to see.
Once the check had been paid, and we’d made it outside, I could still feel Jacob looking at me. I wasn’t sure what to think about it either. The air was chillier than it had been, and I loved the feel of Cash tucking me into his side.
When our cab pulled up in front of the restaurant, I’d felt a sigh
of relief. “It’s been great to meet you,” Cash said, offering Jacob his hand.
Jacob took it, his eyes falling on me again. “You’ll have to excuse me for being rude, but are you two datin’?”
“Yes,” Cash answered quickly.
Jacob shoved his hands into his pocket, rocking back on his heels, a bright smile spread across his face. “I’m glad she’s found someone that deserves her.”
Jacob leaned forward and hugged me. “It was good to see you, Sydney. I really wish you the best of luck.” He turned to Cash. “Treat her good, she’s worth it.”
I bit into the plush white comforter my face was pressed into. It felt like fire had consumed my insides. The feel of his dick pounding into me had my entire world on its axis.
He’d put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on our hotel door as soon as he’d stepped past the threshold. I’d felt the change in the air when I dropped my purse on the couch and felt his eyes on me from behind. Cash had been quiet in the car ride back, although the warm pressure of his palm against my thigh had me on edge.
It didn’t take long before he’d scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the bedroom. And with such care, he’d stripped me out of all of my clothing and buried his mouth between my shaking thighs.
“You feel so good,” he whispered against the back of my neck. His strong palms held me against the bed, the only movement, beside the work his mouth was doing to my shoulder, was the thrusts of him against me. His balls slapped against my core, his width spreading me wide for him.
My fingers clutched the covers tighter with every movement. The demanding feel of him felt like a slice of Heaven, but there was something so soft about him tonight. .
It was a little bit of everything, and the tenderness was a new ballgame for me. I’d never been fucked so hard and so soft at the same time. Truthfully, I’d never been touched that tenderly—ever. “Sweet Mary,” he whispered in my ear, bringing me back against him harder. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone for so long. I could live in here. Every night, for the rest of my goddamn life.”
I shivered against him, my second orgasm built in my lower stomach, and all it took was the feel of the softest kiss between my shoulder blades to send me over the edge.
His voice was deep and rough in my ear, but sounded like the sweetest of songs, him repeating my name over and over in a rhythm that matched the beat of his heart that I felt against my back.
It didn’t take more than a second to know that I’d fallen in love with him. I’d fallen in love with a man that I knew could crush my bruised heart in one second.
I’d fallen for a man who could be the meanest beast I’d seen or the rough angel who haunted my mindless dreams.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cash
My head had been in the clouds after I dropped her off at the art gallery that morning. I guessed that was one of the reasons I didn’t realize who waited on me in my office until I’d already shut the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Jenkins.”
I turned and found Mrs. Henry sitting in the chair across from my desk, her fingers interlaced over her crossed legs. “What are you doin’ here?”
The question didn’t seem to faze her. “I thought I’d drop by and talk to you about our bargain. I had some ideas to help with advertisements for your company since we’ll be sponsoring you, I wanted to give you some ideas. You are doin’ such a wonderful job on your side.”
She reached toward me, handing me the paper. I snatched it from her hand and saw Sydney and me on the front page from the charity event. Vomit rose in my throat. I marched forward, tossing the paper into the trash can under my desk. “We don’t need your help with any advertisements, Mrs. Henry. I have people for that.”
She examined her nails, not making any sign of leaving. “Understandable. But I’d like to see them before you go the next step with them. Our name is gonna be on them, after all. Where is Sydney? I figured she’d be here. You two look like you’re getting—close.”
I tightened my hands into fists on the desk, leaning forward I narrowed my eyes at her. “Then why the hell would you have come here if you thought she’d be here?”
She lifted her head. “I needed to talk to you. I don’t see why we can’t do business; she wouldn’t think anything of it.”
Cussing under my breath, I sat down in my chair, eyeing my closed door. “She would, actually. She’s not an idiot. Now, I’d appreciate if you’d get to it. I have meetings lined up in only a few short minutes.”
“Of course, you’re a busy man.” She dug around in her purse for a bit before bringing out a compact mirror. “I know my daughter, Cash. I can see she’s smitten by you, and I’m glad.” She shut the mirror hard. “That’s not the concern. I can also tell when a man is smitten, and that’s what worries me. I wanted you to date my daughter, but I never thought in a million years you’d actually fall for her.”
My heart stopped. “It’s none of your damn business how I feel about Sydney, ma’am.”
She slowly shook her head. “Actually, it is. I know her better than you ever will. I know she isn’t capable of staying with a man for a long period of time. See, I was hoping she’d get a good reputation from this, maybe understand that she should try to date classier men than before, hell, date at all. Just stop sleeping around.”
My jaw tightened. “Wait a minute,” I said in a whisper. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
She sighed softly, reaching forward to try and grab my hand. I retracted. “I’m trying to tell you not to get attached to her. She seems like a lot of fun now, but she’ll get bored soon. Why do you think she sleeps around so much? If you fall in love with my daughter, she’ll end up crushing you. I wanted her to get out of this partying every weekend bit she’d fallen into. I never expected an engagement or a three-year relationship from this. I wanted her to see how a wealthy, charming man could treat her. Maybe she’ll get into the habit of flying through them, and not local frat boys that give her one good lay.”
I wanted to ask her to repeat herself. She couldn’t possibly be telling me to break it off soon, so she could move on to another privileged man? I felt my teeth grind into one another; it sent chills down my heated body. I stood quickly, slamming my fists against the mahogany desk. “You don’t get to come in here and tell me how I feel, or tell me how she does. I know she cares about me. I see it in those pretty eyes of hers.” I let out a bitter laugh. “They look a lot like yours, minus the bitch.”
She straightened her shoulders. “I’m coming here as a favor to you, son. I don’t want you falling into those pretty eyes because they’ll end up ripping you apart. She isn’t made for long-term commitments. That wasn’t our de—,”
“Our deal was that I give her good publicity, you didn’t specify any terms, actually. Have I given her that?”
“You—,”
“Yes or no?”
“I suppose so,” she said, her eyes finding a place on the floor. “But you’ll regret taking this further than a few more weeks, a few more charity events. All it’ll take is for a handsome man, like yourself, to catch her eye at one of those events, and she’ll be underneath him as soon as you turn your back.”
I’d never hit a woman, my mother had always told me not to, but I was pretty damn close to laying this bitch on the floor. I believe “respect your elders” had been a mistake; there was no way anyone could respect this cunt.
“I’m making good on my part of this, what I have with Sydney from now on out isn’t your concern. You’ve got your good publicity; you’ve got your reputation. Now fuck off before I come to my senses and say what I really want to say to you.”
She stood abruptly, clutching her handbag like I might try to steal it. “I was comin’ here to warn you, Cash. I’ve done my duties. It’s all on you now. If you let her spin her web and pull you in any further, you’ll be broken hearted soon. And I’d hate to say I told you so.”
I glanced at my watch. “Your speech e
nded right on time. My 8:30 is here. I’m sure you’re not senile enough to have forgotten where the door is, right?”
She gave me a smartass smile before walking toward the door. “Maybe I should have asked your brother. At least he wouldn’t have let her get too close to him. Maybe I should have just let him show her a good time for a few weeks.”
“Get the fuck out.”
She slammed the door on her way out.
I went to pick her up in my Beemer. Taking her myself felt more personal than having Joey drive us everywhere. Plus, Joey was still on my shit-list. I hadn’t talked to him since Friday when he took us to the airport.
I walked into the small waiting area and found Mr. Scott standing behind the counter, leaned over a small sketch book. “Hey.”
He stood up straight, his glasses low on his face. “Oh, Cash—Mr. Jenkins. It’s so nice to see you.”
“Cash,” I said. “It’s nice to see you. Is Sydney here?”
He nodded. “In her room. She’s been quiet today.”
I made my way down the small hallway toward her room and found the door unlocked. Slowly, I walked inside. I found her with her back to me, sitting on her stool, her head cocked as she stared at the painting in front of her.
I vaguely remembered my mother painting as a child, though I had her artwork scattered around my house. The earliest memory I had of my childhood was of her painting outside on our porch. She was happier than Sydney had been. For a while. It seemed she became more distant, more saddened over the years but I couldn’t remember why.
The painting in front of Sydney looked dark for the most part, but there was a piece, in the middle, that reminded me of something. It wasn’t until she made another stroke that I realized the color. It was the color that I saw in my brother’s eyes, and the color I saw staring back at me every morning. I was no art critic, by any means. I didn’t know about art; all I knew was what I liked.
