A Family Affair: Summer: Truth in Lies, Book 3 (11 page)

“Nate, do you give cooking lessons?” Tess forked a piece of pork tenderloin. “
Everything is delicious. What’s in the mashed potatoes?”

“Garlic.” He smiled. “I put that in just about everything but dessert. There’s sour cream
in there, too, but my wife prefers a heart-healthy version, so I substitute Greek yogurt.”

Cash scowled and refilled his wine glass. “Aren’t you just the little homemaker?”

Nate’s lips twitched. “I can give you a few lessons, if you like. We’ll start slow. Scrambled eggs and toast first, then we’ll work up to hamburgers.” There was no mistaking the humor in his words—at Cash’s expense—when he added, “Anna will wake up soon and I can show you how to change a diaper, too.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll pass on that one. Ramona
plans to keep my fridge
and
freezer stocked, so I’m good there, too.”

“
Huh.”

That always meant something, even if there weren’t any words attached. Nate had a way of attaching great significance to a sound
, but Cash wasn’t biting this time.

Unfortunately, Tess was.

“Nate? What are you thinking?”

Damn, here it comes
.

“My mother’s a good cook
, too, but that doesn’t mean I want to depend on her to eat. Or,” he cast a glance at Christine and smiled, “have her intrude on my privacy. I wouldn’t want her traipsing in with beef stew or a container of spaghetti sauce. Not that she would, but I like boundaries.” He turned to Tess. “How are you in the kitchen?”

What the hell was he trying to do? Why not just ask if she planned to move in and make Cash his meals for the next thirty-two years because that’s what he meant. Hell yes, that’s exactly what Nate Desantro meant and that calm expression wasn’t fooling anybody, certainly not Tess.

She blushed and stammered, “I’m not very skilled in the kitchen.”

Thank God Christine jumped in. “
Well, I’m horrible. Really bad.” She laughed. “I did make the rolls and there’s not a scorch on them.” She laid a hand on her husband’s forearm. “Of course, they came from the refrigerated section of Sal’s, but I didn’t have to use the back-up supply. That’s a start, isn’t it, Nate?”

His voice dipped, turned softer than the butter on one of his wife’s rolls.
“Yes, sweetheart, that’s a start.”

Cash looked away. Bad enough he had to hear what a great guy his old friend was
; he did not have to witness it, too. Maybe he should just concentrate on the wine and block out the rest. A few more glasses should make him mellow enough that he wouldn’t care what happened. Why did the sight and sound of a couple in love put him in such a foul mood? Nate and Christine deserved to be together, deserved to be happy. What was his issue?

Apparently Nate
wondered the same thing because he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses and led Cash onto the deck while Tess and Christine cleared the table. The early evening sky had shifted to a pink-gray with the last rays of sunlight slipping behind the pine trees. Cash had missed the quietness of a small town. No sirens, no honking horns, no shouting. Nothing but crickets, birds, and his own thoughts.

Nate poured two shots, handed one to Cash
, and saluted him before downing his drink. Cash threw back his shot, welcoming the burn as it traveled from his throat to his belly.

“Want to tell me what the hell that was about in there?”

Yup, Nate had noticed. Cash shrugged. “What?”

“Come on. You spent half the night
practicing your sarcasm and the other half scowling into your wine glass. What’s going on?”

Cash stared at the fire pit several feet away. He bet Nate and Christine sat
out here at night, sharing conversation and dreams. “Nothing.”

“You’re jealous.”

Cash swung around, stared at Nate in the semidarkness. “Of what?”

Nate shrugged, refilled their glasses. “Me and Christine. That we’re happy, that we found each other.”

“That is such a bunch of bullshit.” Cash downed his shot and set the glass on the railing. “I’m glad you’re not miserable anymore. And I’m glad she’s the one for you. Hell, I’m friggin’ glad you have a kid together and that you could get past the whole Charlie Blacksworth thing.”

“Watch what you’re saying.” There was an edge to those words and Cash didn’t doubt Nate could back them up with a left hook, and a right, if necessary. “You’ve been on a jag since you came back.
None of us knew what to expect. But then we see you,” he scowled, “when you
permit
us to see you, and hell, it’s not your body that’s messed up. It’s your friggin’ head.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t like the truth? You’d rather keep taking those pills you think I don’t know about, or maybe getting shit-faced is more your style. I’m sick of it. People care about you. Tess cares about you, but you’re so damn busy feeling sorry for yourself, you can’t see that.” He took a step closer. “Either you figure out what your problem is and let me help you, or stay away.”

Nate grabbed the bottle and headed back inside, leaving Cash to think about what he’d said. Damn Nate Desantro and his self-righteousness to hell. He lifted his glass and caught the last few drops of whiskey.

Cash’s mood didn’t improve when he returned inside, though he suffered through Tess’s ooohs and aahhs over “Chef Nate’s” chocolate lava cake, before he mumbled a hasty “thank you” and escorted Tess to the truck. They didn’t speak until he’d pulled into her driveway.

“What happened tonight?”

He gripped the steering wheel and looked straight ahead. “Nothing.”

“Cash.” Her voice
slipped over him, into him, trying to coax the truth out. “Something was going on. Please tell me.”

What could he possibly tell her?
I am so friggin’ lost I don’t know what to do?
Or,
You want to know the real reason I quit the force? It had nothing to do with being tired of police work. I loved my job. It had to do with JJ. Now do you want to hear the rest?
He wasn’t prepared to tell her that, so he simply said, “It’s nothing.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

He turned to her and bit out, “Who said I wanted your help? Did I ask?” He should just shut up, but he couldn’t. Anger and resentment burst from him, poured out in quiet rage. “When I needed you, you refused me. I begged you to listen and it didn’t do one damn bit of good.” He clenched his jaw, forced himself to remain calm. “I sure as hell am not going to play confession with you now.” They stared at each other as Cash’s words filled the truck, pulled them together, thrust them apart. Seconds passed with nothing but the sound of their breath between them.

“I never meant to hurt you,” she said quietly.

That was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. Cash’s gaze settled on her lips and before he could acknowledge the idiocy of his actions or the regret he’d suffer later, he leaned forward and pulled her to him, his lips harsh and possessive on hers. She opened her mouth and let his tongue claim hers. That surprised him, angered him even, because he did not want this kiss to be about need or desire. He wanted it to be about possession. His hand slid to the opening of her shirt, his fingers easing beneath the fabric, touching the soft flesh of her breast.

When she broke the kiss and pulled away, Cash expected to see disgust in those green eyes.
Disgust he could handle. What he saw was desire, and that infuriated him. His voice turned cold and harsh. “Get out. Now.”

The ringing jarred Christine awake. She eased out of Nate’s grasp and reached for the phone. “Hello?”

“Christine, this is Tess.”

“What’s the matter? Are you crying?” Nate stirred beside her and she lowered her voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…sorry to bother you. I didn’t know who else to call.”

Christine slid out of bed and reached for her robe. “It’s okay. Tell me what happened.” She made her way to the living room and turned on the small lamp by the couch.

“Cash.” Tears f
looded the line. “He’s at O’Reilly’s. With Natalie Servetti.”

Christine didn’t need to hear more than
that name to know the rest of the story. The woman was trouble and seemed bent on ruining other people’s relationships any way she could, usually by throwing her over-sexed body at them.
Oh, Cash, don’t do something you’ll regret
. “Who told you?”

“Brody saw him there and he told Bree. She called me a few minutes ago.”
Sniff. “Why would he go with that woman?”

Why did any man go with
that
kind of woman? Of course, Christine wasn’t going to put sound to her thoughts, so she simply said, “He’s very confused right now. But don’t you worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Sniff. “How?”

“As soon as I get dressed, I’m heading to O’Reilly’s. Give me five minutes and I’ll be on my way.”

“
You’re
going? Why?”

“Because you’re my friend and somebody’s got to stop that woman.”

She left a note for Nate, telling him she had to help Tess immediately, and he could call her on her cell if he needed her. Then she threw on jeans and a shirt, stepped into a pair of scuffed loafers, checked on Anna, and grabbed her car keys. Maybe she should wake Nate and tell him exactly where she was going and why, but he might tell her to mind her own business and would most likely take it upon himself to get Cash out of there. That wasn’t happening. She had a thing or two to say to Natalie Servetti and if she had to say it in front of the patrons of O’Reilly’s, then she guessed the town would be reading about it in the
Magdalena Press
.

She didn’t stop to think of the repercussions or how her husband might react when he learned about what sh
e’d done. Natalie Servetti had almost destroyed Christine’s marriage and while Gloria might have plotted the idea,
that woman
had implemented it. With great care. Layers of lies. And no doubt, exposed flesh—probably lots of it.

By the time she reached O’Reilly’s
, she had plenty to say to the woman, starting and ending with a warning to stay away from other women’s men. Christine entered the bar, ignoring the curious looks from the patrons. She recognized a few; some of them even worked for Nate, others she’d met with to discuss financial needs. A handful nodded, but the rest turned back to their drinks, maybe out of respect for her, but more likely so they could tell Nate they hadn’t seen or heard a thing when he asked them, and they’d be telling the truth.

Cash sat in a back corner booth, one hand on a bottle of beer, the other slung around a woman’s shoulders, the woman being the
tramp of Magdalena, Natalie Servetti. Tanned, toned, and glistening, she was sex poured into a low-cut white blouse and jeans. Her dark hair spilled over his shoulder as she nuzzled Cash’s neck, ran her tongue along his jawline. If she got any closer, she’d be in his lap. For all of her attempts, Cash didn’t look exactly happy. The tightness around his mouth, the eyes squeezed shut, spoke of misery and she’d bet that misery had to do with Tess. They needed to work things out, without the help of a troublemaking sex toy like the one fawning over him.

“Hello, Cash.”
Christine kept her voice even and didn’t raise it above the music in the background. People would guess long enough at the reason for her visit without her providing the dialogue, too.

Cash Casherdon’s eyes flew open and he blinked, blinked again. “Christine?”

Natalie lifted her head, spotted Christine, and edged closer to Cash, placing a hand on his belt buckle. “Well, hello,
Mrs. Desantro
.” Natalie’s dark gaze moved over Christine, assessing and dismissing her in the same breath.

Witch
. “Why don’t you find your own man instead of going after ones who are already taken?”

Cash squinted at her and said, “I’m not taken.”

Christine pinned him with a look that said, “Oh, yes, you are definitely taken.”

“You heard him.” Natalie stroked Cash’s jaw, leaned in close to press her breasts against his
arm. “He’s not taken.” She paused and purred. “Yet.”

Did men really fall for this ridiculousness? Obviously, they did and by the time they realized ninety-two percent of it was an act, it was much too late. But there was still time to extricate Cash from making a mistake he’d regret. “Come on, Cash, I came to take you home.”

“Why?” He saluted her with his beer, took a long pull. “I’m getting acquainted with—” he scratched his head “—Natasha.”

She stuck out her lower lip in a feigned pout. “Natalie.”

“Natalie,” he repeated, dragging out the vowels. “I’m getting acquainted with Natalie.”

“Cash.” Christine held out her hand and said, “We’re leaving. Now. And if I have to go home and get Nate to drag you out of here, I will.”

He blew out a long breath. “Nate is such a hardass sometimes.” He hiccupped, laughed. “But he’s nuts about you. I can tell.” He lifted a finger and wagged it at her. “Voice gets all gooey. You know what I mean?” His smile faded, his expression turned serious. “He’s with the woman he loves.”

“And you’re with the woman who’s going to make you
love
what she plans to do to you.” Natalie’s laughter spilled over him but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were on the bottle in his hand, but Christine guessed Tess was the one he was thinking about.

“Yes, well
, those plans will have to wait.” Christine lifted the bottle from Cash’s hand and took his arm. “Let’s go.” Cash shook Natalie off of him and slid out of the booth. No argument, no backward glance at the sex kitten, nothing but a stone-cold expression that made it hard to tell what he was thinking.

“Nate is not going to like this,” he said as he followed her outside. “Bet he doesn’t know, does he?”

She headed to the car and unlocked the doors, anxious to get him inside before Natalie Servetti came running from the bar in one last effort to seduce him. When she didn’t answer, he rattled on. “Nope. Nate does not know.”

“Fasten your seatbelt,” she said as they pulled out of the p
arking spot. Nate was home in bed, deep in a post-lovemaking sleep. What would have been the point to bother him ahead of time? He would have wanted to confront Cash, and “that woman” would have been there, so forget that. And she was quite capable of handling the situation with a calmer tone and no fists. Nate might not have been able to promise that. When men got together, the testosterone spiked and they had to play alpha dog, even if they were friends. It was ridiculous and unnecessary.

Cash blew out a long breath, closed his eyes, and leaned
against the headrest. “If you weren’t married, you could do whatever you wanted.” He paused, went on. “Whenever, with whomever.”

“True.”

“You’d be freer than a bird.”

“Right.”

His voice turned rough. “Nobody could own you.”

“Nope.” She turned down the dark country road leading to Will Carri
ck’s land where Cash’s new house sat. If she kept him talking, even in a monosyllabic fashion, eventually his true feelings might spill out.

“No heartbreak. No love and happily ever after.” He cursed under his breath. “Happily ever after,” he repeated, then spat out, “That is such a bunch of bull.”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is.
Nobody
lives happily ever after.”

Oh, this man was in some serious pain. She’d love to spend a little time with him and gently pry, but if he was anything like Nate, she’d need a crowbar and a lot of persuasion to get him to admit anything. Men! Why did they always have to be so difficult? “There will always be ups and downs, but I like to think if Nate’s beside me, we’ll get through it.”

“You mean if the muck gets deep, he’ll put you on his back and wade through it.”

Not exactly, but in a way, she guessed it could be construed in that manner. “
What I mean is Nate and I are in this together. Period.”

Cash rubbed his temples and muttered, “I’m getting a headache.”

Code for I don’t want to talk about it anymore
.

She slowed the car when she spotted the sign for the
Blue Moon. Nate thought Cash would find his place here, among the trees and the quiet, with Tess and their children by his side. That was a long way off and getting longer if tonight was an indication of Cash’s willingness to admit he cared about and needed his ex-fiancée. Still, it wasn’t hopeless, not with the town behind the effort.

She pulled up the winding driveway and turned left, past Will’s house with the wraparound porch, past the barn where Nate did most of his furniture building, until she reached the two-story log cabin that had become Cash’s home. Maybe it was only temporary, but maybe it would
become permanent. She barely had time to put the car in Park before Cash opened the passenger door and stepped out.

He leaned forward and said in a quiet voice
, “Thanks for the lift.” He paused. “And stopping me before I did something stupid.”

“You’re welcome.” She wanted to tell him to go to Tess and work things out, and to stay away from
that
woman. But Cash Casherdon was almost as stubborn as her husband, which meant he’d have to figure things out in his own time.

“I’m glad Nate found you,” he said, then straightened and close
d the car door.

***

Cash made his way up the steps of the cabin, wishing he’d stayed away from O’Reilly’s and Natalie Servetti. Drinking and Natalie had been a poor excuse to blot out dinner with the Desantros in which he’d acted like a jerk and later, the kiss with Tess. Neither drinking nor Natalie would blot out that last one. Had he really thought they would? Eight years hadn’t erased the taste and feel of his ex-fiancée; what had made him think a few drinks and a pass-around-the table woman would wipe the memories away? Sometimes he really was an idiot. He opened the door and stepped inside.

He did not expect to find
Tess Carrick in his recliner, zeroing in on him with eyes that glittered and not in a good way.

“What are you doing here?” He should have listened to Will about locking his door against unwanted intruders, because right now he had
one lounging in his recliner.

“Waiting for you.”
She slid out of the chair and moved toward him.

Th
ose eyes pierced him, made him uneasy. He didn’t like the set of her jaw either, like she was past pissed. And the mouth pulled into a straight line? Hard to do when a person had full lips like Tess’s—unless anger had blasted the plump right out of them. Cash shoved his hands in his pockets and pretended nonchalance. “Why were you waiting for me?”

“How dare you
!” She stopped when she was two feet away. He’d never been able to forget that mouth or what it could do to him. And he’d tried. Many times.

“Natalie Servetti?”
She spat out the word like it was spoiled take-out and said again, “How could you?”

What? How could he what? Technically, he’d done nothing more than share a few drinks and let her kiss him…and touch him. It’s not like he’d had sex with her. And if he had made that
mistake, it would have been nothing more than another futile attempt to erase Tess Carrick from his soul. But he’d be damned if he’d admit that to her, so he opened his mouth and pretended. “What’s wrong with Natalie? She’s beautiful and not interested in ties.”

She didn’t like that question
or his comment on Natalie’s attributes, not one bit. Those green eyes that used to devour him with desire singed him with anger. “Hah! That woman’s been stamped by half the men in this town and the next.” Her nostrils flared. “And she’ll tie you down so fast, you won’t know what’s happening until she’s got you shackled.” She lifted her chin and added, “With fifty-pound weights.”

Fifty-pound weights? He shrugged, curious to see what else she had to say about Natalie Servetti and shackles and weights. “Maybe.”

Tess opened her mouth, no doubt to spit out more venomous thoughts on the subject, but when she spoke, the venom was gone, replaced with what sounded an awful lot like hurt. “I called Christine because I didn’t trust myself to show up at O’Reilly’s, but I couldn’t just sit at home, so I came here. When you walked through that door, I wanted to see your face when you told me you wanted that woman instead of me.” She shrugged, and her voice grew softer, sadder. “But I see now that it doesn’t really matter. It’s not that you want Natalie Servetti; it’s that you don’t want
me
. You’re never going to forgive me, are you? I’ve apologized for hurting you, told you how much I regretted it, tried to show you how sorry I am, but it’s not enough.” Her lips trembled, her eyes grew bright. “It’s never going to be enough. I see that now. Good-bye, Cash.”