Page 40 of Cash

“I remember them. He kept his things forever.”

And Cash is forever wearing these boots. Does he wear them to honor Dad? Keep his memory alive?

If I’m being honest, I don’t hate either of those ideas.

Cash chuckles. “Never met someone who hated shopping more.”

“No wonder he and my mom didn’t make it.”

Cash doesn’t say anything. My face burns. I don’t know why I’m sharing so much. Maybe the steady motion of the horse, combined with being wrapped up in Cash’s big body, has lulled me into a false sense of safety.

“Garrett gave the boots to me for my thirtieth birthday.Said they were a present from your mom for his thirtieth,” Cash says after several uncomfortable beats of silence.

“That’s something she’d buy him, yeah.”

“Relationships ain’t easy. Your dad—he had a lot of regrets.”

My pulse lurches. Cash keeps throwing me bones, and I’m not sure why. Is it some kind of distraction tactic? Or is he making me trust him so he can strike while my guard is down?

“And he shared those regrets with you?”

“Sometimes. Days are long on the ranch. Gets lonely. As I got older, Garrett opened up. You and your mama, y’all were a big part of his story.”

I scoff, mostly because I’m worried I’ll burst into tears if I don’t. “Didn’t feel that way to me.”

“He talked about you.” Cash shifts in the saddle. “A lot.”

“Now you’re lying.”

“I’m many things, City Girl, but a liar ain’t one of ’em.”

“Stop with the City Girl.”

“Then stop with the City Girl bullshit. You wanna be a rancher, act like one.”

I whip my head around, the brim of my hat catching on his. “I don’t want to be a rancher. This life—it was nevereveron my radar. I’m just here?—”

“For the money.” His blue eyes bore into mine. It takes every ounce of self-possession I have not to look away, our faces inches apart. “Now tell me I’m lying.”

Why not tell him the truth? So what if it makes him hate me more than he already does? Maybe he’ll quit and solve that conundrum for me. Or at least keep his distance.

“The money’s part of it, yeah. But since you’re all about honesty, tell meI’mlying when I say that’s why you want the ranch too. For the money.”

His nostrils flare. His eyes flick to my mouth, and for asecond, I’m gripped by the wild notion that he’s going to shut me up by kissing me.

Part of me hopes he’ll actually do it. How satisfying would it be to slap him right across the face?

“You not listen to what I just told you?” He’s staring me down again. “All the shit I had to give up? Of course I want the money. I want the money because I’m going to make Rivers Ranch look like this.” He tips his chin at the land around us. “Bringing my family’s land back to life has always been the goal. Your daddy knew that.”

I open my mouth. Close it.

Of course Grumpy Cowboy would have a noble reason for wanting ownership of Lucky Ranch. And of course it makes the mushiness in my chest spread to my stomach.

Maybe Cash isn’t an asshole just to be an asshole. Maybe he’s grumpy because he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for over a decade. He’s lost his parents. Raised his brothers.

Lost my dad.

“I didn’t know that,” I say at last.