“Don’t leave it, because you will never get behind my bar.”
“No nepotism for your girlfriend?” I hold my breath hoping that he’ll accept it without worry.
“None.”
“Well, maybe I can get under your bar,” I say, tipping my glass back. “You deserve a future, Cash, and you can’t have that until you talk to your father about this.”
“Would you come with me?”
The question nearly knocks me back as much as the shot. I’m ready to say no, until I remember something Cassie said earlier at the spa. Sometimes you have to go out on a limb for the good ones.
I’d been mistaken when I thought Tanner was the one, but with Cash, I’m willing to walk ten miles in four-inch heels and still come out kicking.
“Of course,” I say taking his hand. It doesn’t matter what happened yesterday or even the day before, because today in this moment we’re going to be stronger and make it through whatever life throws our way.
He pulls me to my feet, and we fit together. This can be it. That improbable ‘it’ that people always reference when they talk about love. I don’t think it can get better, and then he kisses me.
With Cash, I’m learning never be sure of the ground you stand on. Just know he’s there to catch you when you fall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Cash
Taking Savannah home is a bad mixed cocktail waiting to happen, but she’s right. I need to give my father one last chance. The drive is easy at first. I’ve never let someone this far into my life. Savannah looks at me, a smile playing along her lips. She fits into this world better than I do. With her flowy dress and designer bag, she looks like the sort of girl my mother might throw at me. Her blond curls are held at bay by a ribbon—my mother will fucking love her. Well, at least a third of my family will.
She rests her hand on mine where I clutch the gear shift for dear life. It’s a silent reminder that she’s willing to trust me on this.
No one knows we’re coming, not even Tasha, and I expect she’ll be pissed that I didn’t include her in the grand plan. But hell, I didn’t even want this. It was Savannah’s idea. If we were going to move forward, I had to deal with my past. No more running, she said, and I don’t plan on running from anything ever again. I worked through it last night, and then this morning we got in the car. I’m following the familiar path that leads to 2323 Bluebird Lane.
I pull up the drive and turn off the car. We just sit there for a few moments, looking up at the house I grew up in. Savannah’s the first to open her door and she looks back at me. She looks perfect in her polka-dot sun dress and heels. Her curls corkscrew all over the place. This could ruin her.
Ruin us.
I’ve almost accomplished that by keeping this from her, I remind myself with a twinge. Letting her judge for herself seems like the only fair way to let her decide.
Savannah reaches back into the car. Looking me dead in the eye, she says, “Cash get out of the car or you’re not having sex for a month.”
Laughter bursts out of me before I even fully comprehend what she’s said.
“You think I’m lying?” It’s her serious face, the one where she’s definitely been thinking about this too much. I get out of the car. She waits for me on the other side of the car. Silly move, Savy. Trapping her between the car and my body, I lean in and steal a kiss. It burns through me. She’s soft, with a backbone of steel—not the sort to be won over by a simple kiss.
I pull back and look her in the eye. She’s short of breath, but there’s no hesitation in her. I’m losing my touch.
“Come on,” Savannah says, lacing her fingers through mine. The door looms big and brassy in front of us. This is it my quaint childhood home.
Just ring the bell.
Savannah squeezes my hand, and I do it.
The startled maid walks us through the house. My mother’s in the garden. I keep my head down, not wanting to see Savannah’s reaction to this place. The gardens spread out across the lawn, and my mother is bent over a bed, doing the closest thing to work that she ever does.
“Just put lunch on the terrace, Suzette,” she says casually, not even looking up from her flowers.
“Afraid I don’t have lunch, Mom.”
Her back goes beanpole stiff. She turns to face me, and I think she about has a heart attack of her own when she sees Savannah. Her hand flies first to her hair, and then she remembers she’s wearing gardening gloves.
“Mrs. Gardner, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Savannah says. She doesn’t seem fazed by whatever my mother has to throw at her. Hopefully, Mom keeps her want of grandkids to herself. I don’t need anything else scaring off Savannah.
“I wish I could say—I’m sorry…Cassius…”