Page 37

The really hot stuff

Sophie

Cash knocked on my bedroom door later that night, but I didn’t answer.

I didn’t plan to until I had a better idea of what to say to him.

It felt like it was my fault that my family had so little interest in what I did, and was that right?

While part of me wanted to push my success in front of Cash, it was so minimal compared to what he and Dad had that it seemed silly.

I was upset with Remy for bringing it up, even if it was something that a normal family would know about.

But also relieved, because I’d been too scared to do it myself.

I’d have to explain to Remy why my brother knowing I actually had a job had been a secret in my family. Tomorrow. Once I’d found out how Cash was going to respond. I’d always hoped he’d be supportive. But Dad wouldn’t, and I hadn’t been sure how my brother would land.

I woke up early after a fitful sleep. There was no sound of Cash, so I dressed and grabbed a banana to fuel me before I escaped to the workshop. This wasn’t a hobby, and I had clients waiting on work from me. I pulled out the guitar I was working on and was soon absorbed.

A hand on my shoulder made me jump. I whirled around, pulling my ear protection down, and barely missing hitting Cash with my arm.

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” I gasped.

“Didn’t mean to. I knocked and yelled, but you didn’t hear me.”

I drew in a long breath to try to slow my heartbeat. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to get tinnitus by not using proper protection.”

“Could we talk?”

I was nervous, but we should. We probably should have a long time ago. “Okay.” I set the fretboard down and leaned against the workbench.

“I owe you an apology.”

I blinked quickly, emotion making me teary. “I shouldn’t have gotten upset like that.”

“No, that was my fault. After talking to Remy, it hit me that I listened to Conrad and never even asked you. I just assumed you were messing around with guitars as a hobby, and that you weren’t very good.”

Of course he did. “I took the course. I apprenticed. You think I did that for nothing?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I mean, I trust Conrad with my instruments so I tend to believe him about anything related to guitar work.”

“I asked to apprentice with him, and he told me no. ‘You’re not going to make up for your lack of musical talent by messing up my guitars.’”

Cash went rigid. “What? After all the work we’ve done with him, the relationship we have?”

“Yeah, well, he’s not a big fan of women in his line of work.” Cash didn’t seem to have picked up on that, but he had a Y chromosome, so.

“Damn. That’s not good. But also, I mean, you work in my carriage house.”

What did that have to do with anything? “Because you offered. It was cheap. I wanted to pay back the trust money I’d used for my training, and to set up the shop.”

His brows drew down and he looked around the workshop as if seeing it for the first time. “But you are making money? I mean, this equipment costs a lot.” He waved his hand around as if I wasn’t aware of the price of every piece.

I’d known he hadn’t taken me seriously, but this still hurt.

“Yes. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to get top-of-the-line equipment.

And I’ve been saving up for my own shop.

Building up my business, earning a reputation, because starting out isn’t easy.

I haven’t touched Dad’s money since I paid back what I took out for school. ”

He looked like he’d been hit with a hammer. “Huh. I thought you were living on that.”

Dad had given us each a big nest egg when we turned eighteen. That had given Cash freedom from financial worries when he started his band. And Dad’s name, Williams—that would have opened doors for him too. But Cash thought I’d decided to just drift on my money.

“I wanted to make my own way.” And to prove to Dad and Cash that I had talent. Someday a client would talk about how good I was, and they might finally be proud. Notice and be proud.

Cash shook his head, hands on his hips. “We should have helped.”

“Using you would have made things easier, sure. But a lot of people would think I was riding on your coattails. I’ve gotten this far in spite of you, not because of you.” And I was damned proud of that.

“Good for you. I’m glad you’re doing well. What’s up with Diane?”

“She’s retiring and wants me to take over.”

“You’re more than good if she’s trusting you with her business.”

I allowed myself to smile and take pride in what I’d done. “I’m very good.”

“So, are you going to do it? Take over for her? That’s why you’re making a guitar, right?”

“I’m still thinking it over. She does some custom builds, so I’ve been building one at her shop.”

“Do I get to see it sometime?”

“Maybe.” We talked details for a bit. Cash knew this stuff, so it was nice to go into some of the minutiae and get another perspective than Diane’s.

“I want to see this guitar after it’s done. Will you promise to let me know? When I get into a project, I forget everything, but I really, truly want to see what you make.”

And that was what I’d wanted. For my family to see me and what I could do, and be proud of me.

Cash left, since he had meetings, and I needed to deal with my own obligations. But I felt better. My brother was supportive. He wanted to send some work my way, feeling guilty, but I had a full slate and told him I’d have to work him in. He laughed but it was true.

I needed to apologize to Remy for storming off. He hadn’t known that I didn’t share with my family, and I didn’t want him to think I was upset with him. But our schedules didn’t sync up for a few days, until he caught me when he stopped in the doorway of the shop.

“Sophie?” Beast was at his feet but not growling for once. Goober had been keeping me company, and she hopped down to greet Beast.

“Hi,” I responded, then we both watched to see what the animals would do. Goober let Beast sniff her and then walked to the corner and sat.

Remy spoke first. “I didn’t mean to tell Cash about what you were doing.”

“Please, I owe you an apology. You didn’t know, and I overreacted.”

“I should have put the pieces together from what you’d told me.”

“Well, Cash came by the next day and we had a good talk. We cleared some things up, so it worked out in the end.”

His slow smile crossed his face. “That’s good.”

“I wanted to talk to you anyway, about something that has nothing to do with my brother.”

“Anytime.”

I pulled in a breath. “Maybe we could do dinner again? Without Cash?”

His smile grew bigger. It was a good look on him. “I’d like that. When were you thinking?”

“Tonight? If you’re free?”

“I am. Should we go out this time?”

“I’d like that.” I’d like it to be an official date, but we needed to discuss that while we were out. Not while I was covered in shavings and had the pieces of a guitar scattered around me, all needing protection from Goober if she decided to hop up here.

We set a time. I told Remy I’d choose the place and he promised to pick me up. He and Beast left, and as I heard their footsteps going up the stairs I had a smile on my face. I was glad to be alone since I was sure I looked as sappy as hell. Apologies were done, and we were having dinner.

Goober slipped out of the doorway, and a few minutes later I heard her meowing upstairs.

I set down my chisel, but before I could chase her off, the door opened.

And when it closed again, the meowing stopped.

She must be in the apartment. Things were warming up between the cat and dog.

Maybe the same would happen for Remy and me.

This time, I dressed for a date. Maybe we’d decide it wasn’t worth investing in a relationship with a time limit.

I wasn’t sure if Remy was willing to risk Ollie finding out we were more than friends.

Maybe we’d do nothing but hook up here on Cash’s property after this.

But no matter how logic told me getting involved for a short time wasn’t smart, I wanted to see where things could go with Remy.

This relationship was different from anything I’d had before—was better than anything before.

I would look the best I could and make it as difficult as possible for him to say no.

My pants were expensive, and, when I checked in the mirror, made my ass look good.

The cashmere sweater was a present from Cash, via his personal shopper, and the color was perfect for me, the push-up bra I wore making sure there was cleavage showing.

My hair was loose and I wore makeup. This was a long way from the “ponytail, bare face, sawdust-covered baggie jeans” look that I sported in the shop.

Remy drove up to the house and got out to open the truck door for me. He was wearing dress pants that hugged his ass and thighs, and a T-shirt and blazer. Not the suits the team wore to games, nor the jeans or shorts I saw him wearing around the property. The bubble of hope in my chest expanded.

His eyes ran over me. “You look nice.” It wasn’t the most effusive compliment I’d ever received, but the warmth in his expression made up for the lack of words.

“Thanks. You too.”

He helped me into the truck and closed the door behind me. The interior held the aroma of his body wash, cologne and a bit of dog on top of lingering new car smell. But being reminded of Beast didn’t make Remy less appealing. He had a big heart, this hockey player.

“Where are we going?” he asked as he started up the truck.

“Can I put it in your GPS?” This vehicle had all the bells and whistles.

He nodded. I punched in the street address. “It’s a one-off Tex-Mex place. A little nicer than a hole-in-the-wall, like where Diane and I took you, but not the kind of place where you get so much silverware you need to review your Emily Post lessons.”

He glanced at me. “I’m not sure I got those.”