Down to You (25 page)

A guy that is widely known to adore Ginger
sits on her other side and starts chatting her up, leaving me to
tend to the few other customers at the bar. And Cash.

I keep myself busy with odd jobs, but it
doesn’t really help. Every nerve, every cell, every sense of my
entire being is focused sharply on Cash.

Cash.

By the time the night is over, I’m on edge.
He still hasn’t said a word. Neither have I. But the tension is
palpable. And it’s killing me.

When Tad gives last call, Cash looks at me
long and hard then slides off his stool and walks out. I feel
aggravated and bereft and sad and frustrated and hurt. But mostly I
feel like chasing him. Like asking him to stay.

But I don’t.

I can’t.

I won’t.

As we are required to do, the bartenders stay
as Tad counts the till. But my mind is wandering. To Cash. Always
to Cash.

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I check for
messages. There are no new ones, which both puzzles and disappoints
me, so I randomly select one of the saved messages from him and
listen to it. When his voice comes on, there is a quick, sharp stab
of pain in my chest.

“
Look, Olivia, I care about you. Can’t you
see that? Can’t you feel it? I might not have always done the right
thing, but try to see it from my perspective. Do you know how hard
it was for me to tell you all this? Knowing that you might leave
and never come back? I was just hoping that you wouldn’t do that.
Leave. But you did. And I know I should let you go. But I can’t. I
just can’t.”

I hear him sigh into the phone and then it
clicks off.

A lump of emotion constricts my throat.

What am I supposed to do? He’s a liar. A
liar!

Some small voice pipes up to tell me that he
had a better-than-average reason to lie and that he did finally
come clean, trusting me with things that could literally threaten
his life.

Does that matter?

The small voice answers that it does. It
matters very much.

I choose another message to listen to.

“
Okay, if this is how you’re gonna play
it, fine! I’ve done all I can do. I’ve tried to help you, to show
you I care about you, but obviously that’s not enough. Maybe you’re
right. Maybe you’re right to go. I don’t even know
anymore.”

I listen to another and another and another.
It’s plain that Cash was going through all manner of reactions to
my
reaction. For some reason, they make my heart squeeze.
The one thing that’s apparent in all of them is that he’s searching
desperately for some way to fix things. And that I’m the one making
him desperate. I know what that feels like. I know what it’s like
to care about someone so much they make you desperate.

But it doesn’t matter. It
shouldn’t
matter.

But it
does
matter.

I just get more irritated.

When Tad’s finished and he’s ready to lock
up, we all leave together. As I approach my car, I see Cash sitting
on his motorcycle, right beside the driver’s side. I walk past him,
unlock my door, get inside and start the engine. I consider rolling
down my window to talk to him, but I decide against it.

As I pull out of the lot and turn toward
home, I see a single light, the headlight of Cash’s motorcycle,
pull out behind me.

Is he following me home? What’s he gonna do,
cause a scene in front of my father? My father with the broken
leg?

My irritation rises. But so does that
swelling sensation in my chest, like my heart might burst from
inside my ribs. Like
Alien.

Cash’s messages run through my mind—his
words, the sound of his voice, the things he doesn’t say, as well
as the things that come across so clear. I look in my rearview
mirror again, at the bike’s front light. Following me. Steadily,
persistently following me. Like his focus is as bright and singular
as the headlight.

As I pass a familiar pull-off that’s hidden
in the trees along the road, I swerve into it, coming to a crunchy
stop in the gravel. Impulsively, angrily, I throw the gearshift
into park, shut off the lights and get out, slamming the door
behind me. Within seconds, Cash is pulling to a stop behind me and
cutting his engine, too.

I stomp over to where he’s taking off his
helmet and getting off the bike. “What the hell do you want from
me?” I scream, anger suddenly finding its way back to the
forefront. I lash out, putting my palms in the center of his broad
chest and pushing with all my might. He barely moves. “What are you
trying to do to me?”

When I feel tears threaten, I turn and walk
quickly back to my car. As I’m rounding the hood, I feel fingers
like steel bands wrap around my upper arms and bring me to a stop.
Cash whirls me to face him. In the silvery light of the full moon,
I can see the livid set to his features, the flash of temper in his
eyes.

“Stop! Just stop!” he spits.

“Why? What else needs to be said? I think
you’ve told me enough lies for a lifetime.”

“No more lies,” he says angrily. “I don’t
even
want
to talk to you anymore. I just want to hear you
tell me that you don’t feel anything for me. That you want me to
leave you alone and never come back. Then I’ll go. If that’s what
you really want, I’ll go.”

I know this is my opportunity. In my gut, I
believe that he’ll do exactly what he says—he’ll be gone from my
life forever if I tell him to go.

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come
out. I hear him gasp, as if he’s waiting for me to banish him from
my life.

Rage drains from his face. It’s replaced by
something close to a silent plea. Then he whispers.

“Don’t. Please don’t say it.”

I search his eyes. For what, I don’t know.
“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to. I need you to
come back to me. Not to help me. Or to help my father. I’m done
with that. I don’t want your help. It all boils down to you. I just
want you.”

My heart is beating wildly inside my chest. I
hear nothing, feel nothing, see nothing but Cash. And even so, I
barely hear him whisper again, “I just want you.”

Before I can give it another second’s
thought, before I can overthink it and torture myself with what I
should
do rather than what I
want
to do, I answer him
quietly. “Okay.”

I see several emotions flicker across his
face, but then I see nothing. I’m in his arms.

His lips crash down on mine and the world
disappears. My fingers are in his hair, holding him to me. His
hands are roaming my back and hips.

And then he’s lifting me onto the hood of the
car. Kissing my neck, untucking my shirt, touching my breasts.

I wrap my legs around his slim hips and pull
him into the V of my thighs. He grinds against the place I need him
most.

His fingers loosen the button and zipper to
my shorts. I’m only vaguely aware of being thankful we are so
hidden from the road.

With his palm, he pushes me back onto the
hood and pulls my shorts and panties down over my feet. He tosses
them onto the car beside me and lifts my bent legs onto his
shoulders, burying his face between them.

I can’t hold in the moans of pleasure his
tongue elicits. I feel it making hot circles over my clitoris. I
feel it lick down and slide inside me, pushing in as deep as it
will go. I feel him rub his face against me. And then I feel the
world explode around him, showering him with the fireworks of my
orgasm.

He moves and then I hear his zipper. He
enters me and my spasms continue. He grabs my hips and pulls me
tighter against him, my back still pressed to the warm metal of my
car.

I look up through half-lidded eyes and I see
him watching me, so serious, so sensual. He moves his hand between
us and I jump when his thumb grazes my sensitive clitoris. But he’s
gentle and, soon enough, I feel the tension building again. I close
my eyes and just feel.

The waves of one orgasm run seamlessly into
the next. As my body squeezes Cash, I feel him pulse within me. He
spreads through me as he fills me up, as he comes deep inside
me.

I open my eyes again and see his back arched
and his head thrown back. It’s so hot to watch him come, I feel my
body reacting, milking him, demanding everything he has to give. I
want it all. I want everything he has to offer. I want it pouring
out inside me.

With his body still shooting hot liquid into
mine, Cash opens his eyes and reaches for my hands, pulling me up
and into his arms. We are as joined as two people can be. And not
just physically.

He showers my face with kisses and runs his
hands all over my back. He doesn’t need to use words. I know what
he’s saying. I perceive it. I feel it. And I feel the same way.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT- Cash

I open my eyes to bright streaks of light
peeking under the edges of the curtains in Olivia’s room. I
shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did, but I wanted to hold her
while she slept. I wanted her to know I wasn’t going anywhere. That
she’s safe with me. In my arms.

Unfortunately, I fell asleep, too. Great sex
for the third time in a short period of time does that to me.

I smile and I look down at Olivia where she’s
curled up against me, her beautiful face relaxed in sleep.

I don’t want to put names to the things I
feel for her. I just want her to know I’m not going anywhere. And
that I want to take care of her. To make her happy. I hope that’s
enough. It has to be.

She wiggles against me and I feel my body
react. I know if I don’t get out of bed, I’ll end up waking her up.
And while that sounds like the best possible start to my day, I
know she’ll be sore if I don’t give her a break. Besides, her
father will be up soon and I need to get to my own room.

Easing out from under her, I slip on my jeans
and grab the rest of my clothes, tiptoeing to the door. I crack it
and listen. It sounds like her dad is already stirring.

Silently, I sneak to the bathroom and take a
quick shower. When I’m done, I head downstairs, letting Olivia
sleep as long as she can.

Darrin, Olivia’s father, is sitting at the
kitchen table. The way he’s watching me, I can’t help but think he
was waiting for me.

I nod. “Good morning, sir.”

He nods in return. “So, you’re the one,” he
says enigmatically.

I look into his eyes, a more brown and less
bright version of Olivia’s, and I know what he’s getting at, what
he wants to know. Straightening to my full height, I link my hands
behind my back and nod again. “Yes, sir. I am.”

His eyes travel me from head to toe,
measuring me up like he might measure a new ram for his flock,
before they come to rest on mine. They speak volumes as they look,
unwaveringly, at me. Into me.

“And you know what she means to me, what I
would do for her. And to anyone who hurt her.”

I suppress the grin that twitches at the
corners of my mouth. He
sounds
about Olivia like I
feel
about Olivia. “Yes, sir.”

After several more long, tense seconds, he
finally nods. “All right, then let’s get that girl some
breakfast.”

From that point on, I can’t seem to wipe the
smile from my face.

Sometime later, when Darrin speaks to Olivia,
I turn to see her standing at the kitchen door. She looks adorably
tousled. It makes me want to pick her up and carry her back to
bed.

I find myself holding my breath when she
looks at me. I’m a little uneasy. I don’t know if the bright light
of day has brought about some new revelation that will work against
me or not.

When she smiles shyly at me, I exhale. And
when her cheeks turn pink, I chuckle. I don’t know why that makes
me so happy. But it does.

“Good morning,” I say, laying my spatula in
the big spoon that sits to the right of the stove. I know her
father knows how I feel about her, but even if I didn’t, I couldn’t
stop myself from going to her.

I stop in front of Olivia and cup her face in
my hands, kissing her sweetly on the mouth. She looks up at me with
her liquid eyes and something in me melts away. I think to myself
that I hope it wasn’t something important. Something that I
needed.

It makes me just a little uncomfortable,
feeling the things I feel for her, so I give her a smile and head
back to the stove, hoping she won’t see my uncertainty.

The rest of the morning goes smoothly. Right
up until she announces that we’re heading back to the city after
lunch. My head jerks up and our eyes meet. There’s no warning in
them, but there’s a purpose. There’s no mistaking that.

“Why so soon, Liv?” Darrin asks.

“I’ve got some things to take care of, Dad.”
I see her eyes flicker up to mine where I’m sitting across the
table from her. “Marissa will be back soon and I’ve got some things
to figure out.”

There it is.

We’ve
got some things to figure out.
Obviously.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE- Olivia

The ride back to the city is as different
from the ride away as it’s possible to get. The only thing that
would make it more dramatic is if my hair was on fire or I was a
man.

I glance back periodically to see Cash on his
bike, following along behind me. He’s wearing his helmet, so I
can’t even see his eyes, but I imagine that he smiles at me each
time I look back. I can almost feel it. A couple of times, he even
nods his head, like he can tell I’m looking at him. I wonder if he
can see my eyes shift to him in the rearview mirror…

When I pull into one of the spots designated
for Marissa’s apartment, Cash pulls in beside me, killing his
engine and taking off his helmet. I try to hide the smile I feel
that he’s coming in without me having to ask. It’s like some
unspoken agreement has been reached between us. I’m his and he’s
mine. At least for now. And I refuse to think any further than
that.