Page 16 of Cold Foot Cash (Wreck’s Mountains #4)

Harley inhaled deeply, and stretched her legs under the warm covers of her bed.

Just before dawn, the light outside had a gray tone to it, and she guessed from the light filtering through the window, it was about seven in the morning.

The soft murmur of a man’s voice in the other room had her sitting up and trying to make out the words.

Cash was talking to someone on the phone.

She kicked out of bed and pushed off the mattress, then padded quietly to the door to listen.

“Oh, you did get my text last night? Yes, sir.” There was a long pause. “Yes, sir. Oh, Kade already told you what?” Another pause. “Well, he talks about my business too easily, but yes sir. My lady is up in Bozeman and I needed to be here with her. Yes, sir. Thank you. Hey, Tommy?” Another short pause. “Thank you. I’ll be back to annoying you on Wednesday.” Cash laughed and then she could hear him set the phone down on her kitchen counter.

In a rush, she bolted to the dresser mirror and tried to smooth down her hair. It resembled a rat’s nest. She didn’t have make-up on. When had she taken it off. On further thought, now she remembered talking Cash through her entire night-time skincare routine, like she was some narrator on a reality show. Good gah.

Mortified, she slipped into her bathroom and brushed her teeth like a maniac, and then flew to her dresser and pulled out a pair of leggings and a tank top, so she could change out of this absolute potato sack that she was wearing. Wait.

She caught a glimpse of her whole outfit in the full-length mirror beside the dresser. Was this…? Was she wearing one of Cash’s T-shirts?

She checked the pocket logo and yep. It read Happy Hooker .

“You asked to wear my T-shirt to bed, just in case you don’t remember.”

“Aah!” she yelped, startled. Why was her instinct to grab her tits? She released her tender hostages and tried to smile demurely. “Am I hungover?”

God, it was good to see that man’s amused smile first thing in the morning. “You were finished drinking by nine pm, and you drank about a gallon of water, and then slept for nine straight hours without moving. I think you should be fine.”

“Oh.” She didn’t, in fact, feel any of the unsavory side effects of a hangover. No headache, no dizziness. She felt wide awake and coordinated. “I don’t drink like that very much.”

“Well, I saw the bill. You weren’t shooting whiskey. It was all watered-down mixed drinks. You were probably equal parts tipsy and sugar-high.”

A giggle escaped her, but she tried to swallow it down. When she met his eyes, another giggle took her, and she covered her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Now Cash was chuckling.

“I’m a mess,” she said through another giggle.

“It’s so fun.”

“I don’t have any make-up on!”

“Yeah, you made me sit on the counter and watch you put like forty different types of lotions on.”

“Oh my God,” she said, doubling over her laughter. “That’s not normal behavior for me, just so you kn—kn—know.”

He was cracking up now, bent over, shoulders shaking. “You spent fifteen fuckin’ minutes trying to teach me about exfoliation.”

Oh fuck. She laughed harder and fell onto the bed, gripping her stomach like it would take the pressure off her abs. “Well…” More laughter, and she had to try again. “Well, now you know how to do your own skin care routine.”

“I use the same washrag as I use on my ball-sack, and I’m fine.”

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe! Indeed, his skin was perfect. “You…” She wheezed. “You annoying angels, with your perfect skin.”

Cash wiped the corners of his eyes, then straightened up and rested his hands on his hips, and stared at the ceiling as he tried to get his laughter fit under control.

“Do you want me to teach you how to do manicures next?”

“Hell no. You do your manicures, and I’ll compliment every color you ever do. I’m good.” He twitched his head toward the living room. “I got something for you.”

“A present?”

“Maybe.”

She followed him in there, her giant T-shirt billowing behind her. “Should I put on make-up and get ready first?”

“No, I like when you are just like this. No bra, no make-up, hair messy, my shirt on you. This is the fantasy,” he assured her as he grabbed an iced coffee off the counter and offered it to her.

“Bless your soul and your whole family and all your friends,” she murmured as she took the drink from him. She took a long drag on the straw, knowing with absolute certainty that he had gotten her the drink she liked. And he had. He remembered. Of course he did.

His coffee was the steaming kind, and he took his to her couch and sank down on it, gestured to the love seat across from him, and said, “We need to talk.”

“Oooh, that sounds ominous.” She sat down slowly across from him.

“To be more specific, I think it’ll be good if you do the talking.”

“About what?”

“About everything.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“You got pretty jammed up yesterday, and it didn’t seem like a good time to talk about it when you had a few drinks in you.”

“Okay,” she drawled out. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you want to say out loud to a non-judgmental person who will just sit here, and listen, and have your back no matter what.”

“Well…that actually sounds amazing, and also too good to be true.”

Cash shook his head. “I have only good intentions. None of what you vent to me will leave this room. I don’t want you getting to that point where you’re saying you’re alone and you won’t pick up your phone, or tell me where you are anymore. It scared me. I was thinking the worst.”

Harley swallowed audibly. “Why were you thinking the worst?”

Cash inhaled deep and told her, “Because I knew someone who ended their life because they felt alone. And I’m pretty sure that’s where the hole in me opened up, and when you texted me those words, I had all these memories, and I was scared for you. I couldn’t get to you fast enough. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Oooh,” she uttered weakly as she sank back into the loveseat cushion. “I’m so sorry.”

“Today isn’t about me. That’s just me explaining why I got worried yesterday.”

“I’m not anywhere close to that,” she said.

“Good.”

“Um, where do you want me to start?”

“You can start wherever you want,” he said, relaxing back into the couch. He took a sip of coffee. “I’ve taken time off work, and don’t have to go back until after Tuesday, and whatever happens with it. We can drag it out and have to keep having smaller talks until then, or you can say all the shit that’s made you angry and hurt today, and we can just have fun until I have to leave.”

“Are you like some kind of therapist?” she asked, impressed.

“Oh hell no. I’m listening to Raynah’s advice on listening. I’ve never done this in my life. I mostly just want you to tell me who to beat the shit out of and then I would just make them stop hurting you. Something tells me you don’t just unleash your junkyard dog on your enemies though, because you’re classy.”

“Is that what you see yourself as? My junkyard dog?”

“Woman, if you sent me after anyone, I would fix it the way I know how. You said I have to figure out what made the hole inside of me, and I’ve thought about it a lot. I’m going to do that. I have no idea how long that work will take, but I’ll put effort into it if it means I don’t have to feel the way I felt the night I got in the fight.”

“And how did you feel?”

“Like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I was going to hurt you with the chaos of my life.”

There was a flock of butterflies flapping around in her chest right now.

Harley shrugged her shoulders up to her ears and admitted, “I don’t know where to start.”

“How about start with what happened yesterday. Or start at the beginning. Talk about how your marriage fell apart, or why your sister is mad at you. Tell me your favorite hobbies as a kid, and how you got built into the woman you are. Tell me favorite memories. Tell me not-favorite memories.” He pointed into the kitchen. “I got us breakfast sandwiches when you get hungry, I’ve already gone and got your car, it’s parked in the driveway. Unless you have lawyer meetings or work or something, we have nothing to do today but sit her and cut that lonely feeling right out of you.”

Her lip quivered and her eyes burned. Harley lowered her gaze.

“Nah, don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. You don’t have to. I won’t judge. I want to know it all.”

He’d come all the way here because he knew she was having a hard time. He’d taken off work just to be her support system through Tuesday. He was telling her he was a fighter, not a listener, but for her, he would try.

Never in her life had she met someone like Cash.

So…she did it.

She told him everything.

She told him about her hopes in her last relationship, and her disappointments. She told him the things that had hurt her, and the lead-up to the end. She told him about her childhood, and the complicated relationship with her younger sister. She told him about her parents, and her cousins and her grandparents, and her friends here in Bozeman. She told him what Carolina had told her on the phone yesterday, and about all the betrayals she’d felt at the end of her relationship with Lance. She told him about the times she’d been taken advantage of, and the times she’d been the one to make mistakes, and handled things less classy than she’d wanted to. She told him how happy she’d been in Darby for that short time, just getting an escape from everything that was happening here.

She blabbed on for hours, and he asked questions to encourage her to keep going. She talked through breakfast sandwiches, and then turkey sandwiches for lunch. She talked with him until the sun was low in the west.

And he talked back. She learned so much about him, and she loved every bit of it. He was complicated in some ways too, like her.

And when they were finished, he told her he wanted to go out and get her dinner while she showered, and then have a movie-watching night on the couch, and the idea was perfect. She was drained from unloading her life to him, but in a good way. She wasn’t carrying all that weight alone anymore.

When he left, he pulled her up from the love seat and hugged her, and oooh what a hug. It felt like she had a big, warm, protective blanket all the way around her. She didn’t want it to end. He swayed her gently, and held the back of her neck like he didn’t wanted to keep her close, and this was almost, almost as good as flying with him.

“Maybe three more days,” he rumbled.

“Maybe,” she agreed, and hoped by some miracle he was right.