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“Goodnight, then.” Rachel bent over the back of Mag’s chair, giving his grandmother a kiss on her cheek and treating him to a view of her tits practically pouring out of the top of her dress. He almost swallowed his tongue and had to sit lamely by as she glided out the door in her four-inch heels. When the fuck had she started wearing heels?

“You can put those eyes of yours back in that head. She’s gone.”

“Shut up.”

Mag’s cackle of laughter reminded him of why he didn’t stay with her often; a little of her went a long way. Combine that with his lack of sex since the night Rachel had seen him with Bliss, and he wasn’t exactly in the best mood.

Mag, being as old as God, sensed his predicament and showed no mercy, flaunting Rachel in front of him like a prized mare. The woman had a truly warped sense of humor.

He was forced to sit and watch television with her for the next several hours, his eyes going to the gigantic wall clock. Mag had told Cash that every minute she lived was a milestone at her age, and she wanted to be able to appreciate them. He thought the clock was the ugliest thing he had ever seen.

At eleven-thirty, his grandmother’s bedtime, she gave him an enigmatic smile as she rolled out the door.

Did preachers have parties this late? Cash’s fingers drummed on the arm of the chair as he contemplated calling Rachel’s cell phone, but then the key turning in the door had him pretending to be interested in the late-night talk show.

“You’re still up?” Rachel asked, closing the door.

“I wasn’t sleepy.”

“You need to get more exercise.”

He bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue about exactly what kind of exercise he needed. “I work out enough.”

She looked at him curiously at his sharp answer. “Oookay. Well, I’ll leave you to your show. Goodnight.”

He hadn’t sat there half the night to be blown off the minute she walked into the house. “How was the party?”

“It was fun. There are several new people who have moved into town that have started going to church. It was nice getting to know them. Beth brought the babies. They are so cute—”

“Any new men?” Cash interrupted her.

Rachel had been walking across the room, talking to him like he was one of her fucking brothers after being out.

“Yes, two. King hired them. One’s a chef and the other his manager.”

“Single?”

Rachel’s face lost her friendly expression. “I believe so, yes.”

“You going to chase after them like the rest of the women in town?”

“I’m thinking about it.” She narrowed her eyes on him, turning to face him fully.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, unless you want them to leave town before they have a chance to unpack.” He was tired of pussyfooting around her, trying to make amends for being a jackass. If he wasn’t careful, she would be in someone else’s bed while he was still trying to gain her forgiveness.

“You son of a bitch! You can go to Hell. You think you can sleep with me then have any woman you want, flaunting them in my face. Your attitude toward women sucks. I want a man who wants marriage and children. I want a house and four kids. I want a husband who, when he walks out that front door, I’m never going to doubt he’s mine. And I sure as shit don’t want you. I not only hate you, I despise you.”

She angrily reached into her purse, pulling out her cell phone. “If you want to relive old memories, call Sleeping Beauty; maybe she hasn’t woken up and discovered you’re an asshole.” She tossed him her phone.

Cash barely managed to catch the phone she threw at him. He felt each word slap him in his face, her hatred blasting at him from across the room as she left him with a look of total disgust.

Damn, he had forgotten calling Cheryl ‘Sleeping Beauty.’ Rachel was obviously not happy with his choice of nicknames. He had been a stupid prick fucking around with Cheryl. Damn.

He had forgotten the only piece of advice his father had ever given him, downplaying its importance as he had moved from one woman’s bed to another, not believing its value.

When he had been sixteen, he had broken his first girlfriend’s heart. It hadn’t bothered him, just made him impatient because she kept calling him. He had learned after that he didn’t have to say he was in love to fuck them.

His father had seen him hang up the phone, shaking his head.

“She won’t quit calling,” Cash had told his dad.

“She will.”

“Not soon enough,” Cash had said without pity.

“Son, make sure you want her to quit calling because a woman has a breaking point. She’ll stand by you if you kill someone, but when she finally reaches her breaking point, she’s done with you. There’s no getting her heart twice.”

“It’s not her heart I want.” His young, arrogant voice still sounded in his ears after all these years.

A sad look had come over his father’s face. “Make sure, Cash, or you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting something you can’t have.”

Chapter 17

Rachel was sitting on her bed, making notes on her computer when a knock sounded on her door.

“Come in.”

She thought Mag would open her door; instead, Cash stood leaning on her door frame.

“Busy?”

The pinched look on his face showed he hadn’t fully recovered from his accident.

“No, do you need something?”

A brief silence met her question before he answered. “There’s a swap meet going on in Jamestown. Feel like giving me a ride? I want to look for a new bike.”

Rachel started to mouth off and ask why he didn’t ask Bliss; instead, she slid off the bed and put on her shoes. He probably didn’t want any of his women seeing him when he wasn’t able to hold himself up much less them. Rachel blocked the image of him holding Bliss from her mind. She had been right; it wasn’t an image she had been able to forget.

In her car, Cash slid the seat back as far as it would go then leaned his head back on the headrest.

“Did you take anything for pain?” Rachel asked as she drove toward Jamestown.

“No. I would have smoked some weed, but I was too scared of what your brother put in it.”

Rachel stifled her laughter.

“I didn’t take you for a coward,” she teased.

“I’m not. I just don’t want to smoke cat shit.”

Not able to hol

d back, her laughter filled the car.

“You’re not going to tell me you were kidding around?”

Rachel took her eyes briefly off the road to see his head turned toward her. “Sorry, Tate and Greer are both vindictive a-holes.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. Tate’s still mad over a girl dumping him in high school because he thinks she dumped him for me.”

“She did. He had saved his money to rent a limo to take them to prom. He hadn’t slept with her. He had planned a big night only to find out you had beat him to sleeping with her.”

“She told me he had broken up with her.”

“She lied,” Rachel informed him.

Cash remained silent the rest of the drive.

When Rachel glanced over again he was sleeping. His vitality was so overwhelming it was easy to look over the fact he was still healing from an almost fatal accident. Instinctively, she reached out to touch his arm but then drew back. She didn’t want to wake him needlessly.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel. The powers that had helped save his life were gone. She had prayed they would come back to no avail. She had used everything she had to bring him back. However, it was a decision she didn’t regret; she only wished she had it now so she could help with the pain he attempted to keep hidden from everyone.

Cash took his loss of strength as a weakness while she saw it a completely different way. Even without her help, he would have lived. Cash was a survivor who didn’t give up easily; his recuperation was a testament to that fact. He had proven the doctors wrong about his walking. Now he forced himself not to limp in front of others, but when he thought no one was observing him, he moved slower and with a slight limp. Rachel knew he wouldn’t stop until nothing other than the scars from his accident remained to remind him of his brush with death.

Cash woke as she parked at the packed motorcycle swap meet.

“Looks like every biker in three states is here,” he remarked, stretching as he closed the car door.

Rachel gazed at the rough looking crowd of men and women walking around, examining the motorcycles on display. Several were for sale and some were just being shown off by their owners.


Tags: Jamie Begley The Last Riders Erotic