Cash (Sexy Bastard #2)

I open my mouth to say something, but snap it shut because I realize I’m about to scream. First at Tanner, then at Cash, and then at Tanner again. It’d probably be something along the lines of ‘just whip them out already and I’ll get the ruler.’


“That’s a very common mistake—mixologist and bartender—it’s sort of like calling a four star Michelin chef a short order cook. Sure, at one point he probably was a cook, but now he’s a chef. Or if you can’t wrap your thick head around that one, it’s like saying a karaoke singer could be a Grammy award winning artist. Can they both sing? With autotune, absolutely. Are they both artists…”

Cash’s gaze sweeps Tanner up and down, clearly finding him lacking. It’s not hard to believe, because Tanner’s never had to work for anything. The only calluses on his fingers come from too many hours on the guitar. He was born rich and ate off the proverbial silver spoon.

Cash looks Tanner dead in the eye and says, “Hell no.”

Tanner’s ready to take Cash up on the fight, but Cash seems to have lost interest. One look at me, and my stomach meets the top of my shoes. Now I know how he talks all of those women up the stairs. He looks at them like they’re the only thing that matters. If he kissed me right now, I’d say yes to anything and everything.

Gladly.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, I want some alone time with my girlfriend, though it’s been very nice to meet you. Can’t say I’ll be buying your album—not a big country fan, much to my Mama’s displeasure.” With a wink and nod that’s gotten him out of more than one fight, Cash pulls me away from Tanner. Which is a good thing, because my legs are absolutely useless.

“You okay, Savy?”

I nod. I’m the furthest thing from okay. I’ve been through a hurricane of emotions tonight, and all I really want is to sort everything out. I run a hand through my hair, smoothing the curl back into its bun. Ever the gentlemen, Cash tucks a stray hair behind my ear, his fingers trailing down my chin, igniting a fire that I thought Tanner had put out for good.

“Because if you continue to look like that I’ll be forced to kiss you until you can’t see straight.”

His words strike through me, and the heat is a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest. “That a promise?” I ask lightly.

“Fuck yes.” Cash looks at me like I’m the only woman in the room – like he can’t wait to take me to bed.

Something inside me melts a little; the shard of glass that’s been slicing me open since Tanner showed me I wasn’t good enough, not to be the only one for him.

God, it feels good to be wanted again.

Remember the last time you played with fire, my mind says. Right, I’m still recovering from that. No need to jump head long into another inferno.

Once we’re a safe distance away, I tell Cash I have to speak with my boss before slinking out the back. I want to turn the clock back three hours and make all of this go away. Tanner, Cash, this whole night: just poof.

Briggs is sad to see me leave so early, but Triton apparently has already agreed to talk terms, so my job here is done, my client for the evening seduced. Plus, one look at Cash and my boss seems to instantly understand why I’m leaving.

I toast Meyers from across the room as I rejoin Cash. Meyers’ perpetual scowl deepens, making his wrinkles fold over each other. He’s probably thinking I’m about to drop being a lawyer to fulfill his grand expectations of womankind.

Not on his life.

Cash has found his way to the bar, examining a bottle of champagne on the table. “This isn’t a bad vintage.”

“Bartender. Mixologist. And sommelier? Is there anything you don’t do?”

“Threesomes.”

I snort. “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

“Did you just snort?”

“No, women don’t snort, we…chortle. At least, that’s what my mother always taught me.”

“That is a twenty dollar word for snort,” He laughs, shaking his head. I take the bottle from him and put it back on the table. Whatever he’s got planned, I’m putting a stop to it. The last thing I need to do is steal from a company party.

“To answer your question, I’m a one woman at a time sorta guy.” He flips champagne flutes around his fingers and sticks them in his back pockets. My mouth falls open.

“You are not stealing champagne.”

“Is there something else you’d like me to steal?” he asks, invading my personal space again. The scent of his soap and spicy cologne makes me dizzy. Suddenly, I want to take him up on his offer. He may be rough around the edges but then…no, that’s ridiculous. It would be quick, then over, and he’d be turning all of that charm over to someone else. I barely survived being Tanner’s plaything, and I don’t think I would survive watching Cash walk up those back stairs with another woman.

“We are going to have some fun,” he says.