“Ladies first.” He sweeps a hand out and dips his head.
I chew on my inner cheek while I think about how to phrase this. But in the end, I just bluntly say, “Why me? You didn’t even know my real name until last night.”
“How do you know that your hand belongs to you? How do you know your lungs are yours and yours alone?”
I pinch my eyebrows together, tilting my head in question. “Cash…”
He beats his chest with the flat of his palm. “You belong to me as surely as the heart that beats in this chest belongs to me.”
I want to tell him that’s as crazy as it sounds. And while I’m convinced there’s a little—or a lot—of crazy in Cash Fox, I also can’t deny the fact that in a weird, twisted way, I understand what he’s saying. There’s been an unexplainable connection drawing us together from the start.
It’s scary.He’sscary. But what’s more scary is I find myself nodding along. I stare blankly back, not able to put words to any of the tumbling feelings rattling in my chest. I’m saved by a sharp rap on the front door. The door opens and one of the Fox brothers walks in.
He’s the tall, dark one with brooding, hooded eyes and a cold clings to the air around him. His skin is fairer than his brothers’, like he spends his days hiding from the sun. “So you haven’t killed her yet, huh?” My throat is like sandpaper as I swallow at his words.
“Fuck off, Finn. What do you want?” Cash asks, but Finn just looks at me. His stare is so intense, I feel like he’s reading every dark secret of my soul.
“I have a way to get the Bratva to fall in line.” I’m transfixed in his eyes, trying to decipher the color looking back at me. It’s a swirling darkness, a color I can’t pin down. He reminds me of a fucking vampire.
“Oh? Care to share?” Cash leans against the kitchen island next to where I’m seated. I get the feeling he’s trying to keep me included in the conversation.
“Not in front of her.” And then I understand why.
“You may be my brother, but I have no problem cutting out your tongue if you continue to have a problem showing fucking respect,” Cash responds with venom, and I shift, uncomfortable in my seat.
“I’ll wait out-fucking-side. Have your goodbye sex, but don’t take too long.” I’m sure my face drains of color before turning bright red. He slams the door behind him.
Cash turns to me and says, “A goodbye kiss, then?” with a smile that would turn my panties wet, if I were wearing any. Really, it’s not fair how good looking he is. It’s completely and totally disarming. And I’m fighting with everything I’ve got to keep my walls from crumbling.
“I think a finger bang in the hallway should more than suffice for this morning.” I cross my arms, and he groans at the end of a chuckle.
“It doesn’t count if no one comes. I’m happy to try again.” His eyes darken, and he pulls my hips to the edge of the stool and steps between my thighs. Once again, I feel myself getting sucked into him. The hard planes of his thighs press against the soft, squishy inner part of mine.
“How is your brother?” I spit out as he begins to lean in for a kiss. A kiss that I’m sure will be way too distracting and consuming.
He stands up straight and, realizing he isn’t getting his kiss, strokes my collarbone with his thumb. “Don’t worry about Finn. He’s a bit odd, that one, didn’t get any of the family charm. Don’t take it personally.”
“I meant your brother who was shot.”
“Oh, Lochlan? He'll be fine, just a flesh wound. I'm honestly surprised it took this long for him to get his first bullet hole.”
“His first?” I blanche. “You're expecting more?”
“Baby, if I didn’t have the best surgeons on the East Coast on speed dial, I’d look like swiss cheese right now. This may be his first, but it sure as shit won’t be his last.”See, this is not normal!I internally scream at myself. I also remember the giant scar slashing across his back, and I’msure as shitthat it’s not from falling off his bike as a kid.
“Now, I have to go and see what the little shit wants.” He cups my face tenderly with one hand, but I see the other at his side, clenching into a white fist. He dips down to just barely brush his lips against my cheek. “Be good.”
I take the opportunity to explore the rest of the apartment now that I’m alone. Every door but one is unlocked, and I figure that’s permission enough. In addition to the room I’ve been staying in, there’s another guest room with an ensuite that looks a little more lived in. There’s a half-full laundry basket, an assortment of shower products, and books stacked on the nightstand.
Then there’s the owner’s suite, which is shockingly cozy. Not the cold monochrome I would expect from Cash. One wall is painted a dark, forest green and another is a large, arched, loft-style window. The bed, with its linen sheets, is positioned in front of it, and I can imagine the sunrise streaming in.
His walk-in closet is, however, everything I’d expect. Rows of neatly ironed and hung shirts and pants in gray, black, navy, and white. There’s also a glass case of watches that are probably worth more than the average person’s yearly salary.
My favorite part are the French doors that open up to a rooftop worthy of a hotel. There’s a covered bar and patio, a small but nice pool trimmed with decorative teal-and-white tiles. Attached to the pool is a hot tub gently rolling with jets on one end and a sun shelf with modern chaises on the other.
Well, this sure beats my apartment.Haunted by memories of Beth and the life we had before…I was going to say before Cash, but that’s not exactly accurate if he’s not the killer.
And there it is. That “if”that lingers in my mind like a buzzing fly I can’t seem to squish. Will I ever be fully convinced?