Cash's Fight(63)

Cash didn’t hesitate. “Deal, but this doesn’t mean we have to become best friends, does it?”

“God, no,” Greer shuddered.

“I have a demand of my own. When Rachel and I get in a fight, you keep your noses out of it.”

Dustin looked at his brothers. “Agreed.”

“Unless you break any of our rules,” Greer clarified.

“I can live with that,” Cash agreed. “So, you already knew you were going to agree to me seeing Rachel before we started this morning?” He narrowed his eyes on their unrepentant expressions.

“Yep. We decided we were going to have some fun making you squirm, though. I don’t know which I enjoyed the most: you scaring off those foxes or throwing away that big-ass fish you caught.” Tate grinned.

“I do. Him letting me call him a bitch.” Greer slapped Cash on the shoulder, almost knocking his beer out of his hand.

“Jace, it’s bedtime. Cash, you got anything harder than beer?” Tate asked, picking the cards up again.

“Yes.”

“Then bring it out. Let’s play a few more hands, and this time, you can play like a man instead of a pussy.”

Cash looked around the table at the Porters. It was going to be a long night.





Chapter 22



Rachel parked her car in front of Mag’s house. She had gone to the store after church to pick up a few things they needed. She was struggling to carry the three bags of groceries and the beer that Cash and Mag liked when Cash’s truck pulled into the driveway. She had the beer juggled on her hip as she tried to open the front door.

As Cash opened his truck door and got out, she was shocked at his exhausted appearance; even with the sunglasses on, he looked like shit. His jeans and t-shirt were rumpled, his long hair was tousled, and his face was white as a sheet.

“Need some help?” Cash’s jovial voice set her temper off.

“Yes, you can carry your own beer. From now own, you can get it your own self, too. It doesn’t seem like you have any trouble getting liquor.”

Cash reached out, taking the beer with one hand before opening the door with the other. “Mag home?”

“No, she’s next door.” Rachel nodded to where Mag was sitting on her neighbor’s porch, talking.

Rachel went in the house, packing the grocery bags and setting them down on the counter.

“I bought them, so you can put them up,” she snapped. “I’m going to get changed.” She turned around after setting the groceries down and barreled into Cash’s chest. She’d thought he had moved away after setting down the beer.

“Careful, Rachel,” Cash warned. “I’m not in the best mood. I just spent yesterday with your brothers and Jace, and I spent the night at my cabin with them trying to give me alcohol poisoning with that moonshine they’ve been making.”

“You went hunting and drinking with my brothers?” she asked, stunned.

“Yes,” Cash gritted out, his head about to explode.

“Are they still alive?”

Cash bit back his laughter at the worry in her voice. “For now. I’m not making any promises, though. It depends on if I have to go to the hospital to get my stomach pumped.”

“Why would you…?”

“You know why.” Cash glared at her, lifting his sunglasses to his head.

At his look, Rachel took a step toward her bedroom. Cash leaned a hand out, bracing it on the wall, and blocked her escape.

“N-No.”#p#分页标题#e#

“Because I happen to have their approval for us to date.”

Rachel shook her head. “No way. They wouldn’t—”

“They did. Call them if you don’t believe me.”

Rachel didn’t have to; she saw the truth on his face. “That doesn’t mean shit. I’m not going to go out with you.”

“You going back on your word?”

Rachel’s eyes widened in shock. “I was freaking mouthing off. You know that!”

“Well, your mouth is going to be plenty busy Friday night. You’ve got a week to get used to the idea, or I’ll spread it all over town that a Porter’s word isn’t worth shit.”

“You better go on to the hospital because obviously my brothers’ moonshine has done some brain damage.”

Cash dropped his hand, letting her pass. “Friday, Rachel.”

She pushed past him, going to her bedroom and slamming the door shut. Pacing angrily around the small room, she was so mad she was tempted to throw something. Instead, she jerked her phone out of her pocket, pushing down on the familiar number.

“Hello?” Tate’s cautious voice answered his phone.