Misfit(132)

For the first time, he saw what could be between the three of them. If only…

However, he wouldn’t dwell on if onlys. He’d concentrate on the beautiful girl and handsome man with him and enjoy every stolen moment he could with them and worry about all else later.





The next day, Cash tracked down his little sister before Cash and Fee awakened. His brother-in-law’s band was on tour, but Phoenix Rising was playing in Memphis that night, nowhere close to Kansas City.

Abandoning the idea of taking Stretch and Fee to a concert, his next battle was convincing Stretch not to go back to Lena’s house. They were blocks away from the Central Library. Fee was determined to get a photo in front of the parking garage, with the façade of all the books, so after grabbing biscuits and gravy—along with strong coffee—they headed to the library.

“What now?” Cash asked as they piled back into the Impala to head back to the hotel.

“Let’s just hang in the room,” Stretch said, eyes on the road, hand gripping the steering wheel. “We can save our money.”

Cash frowned. “I paid last night. I’m paying for the room.”

Fee turned in her seat and threw Cash a dirty look. “Shut up,” she mouthed.

Shit. Right. Stretch had pride, too. He wouldn’t want to seem like a moocher.

“I’m thinking of investing in a company my brother’s forming,” he said, allowing Stretch to head back to the hotel.

“What company is that?” Fee asked, once again facing forward.

“It’s a spring water bottling company.”

“We’ll always need water,” she said with a shrug.

“I’m on Outlaw’s payroll, but I get money from a trust my father set up for me.” It wasn’t even a tenth of Parnell’s worth, but Cash lived the life he wanted. His mother had secured that trust for Cash as part of her divorce settlement. Cash got a portion when he turned eighteen, another at twenty-one, and the third and final portion at thirty. “It’ll be good to have my money make money.”

“You’re right, Cash. That’ll be awesome,” Fee said softly, squeezing Stretch’s hand.

Fuck. He was doing this wrong. “My point is, uh, I’ve never been here and I’ve always wanted to take in a game at The K.”

That perked Stretch up. He was a huge Royals fan.

“You want to go to Kauffman Stadium?” he asked. “For a game?”

“Yeah. It won’t be fun without you two. We’re here. I’m about to invest in a start-up on my brother’s advice. It could ruin me. I’d like to spend a little before I empty my bank account.”

That was overdramatic, but Cash was so new to this shit—whatever this shit was—he didn’t know how else to go about it.

Fee pulled the passenger side visor down and combed her fingers through her hair. She met Cash’s gaze in the mirror and gave the smallest nod of approval.

“What do you say, Stretch?” she asked, through with making Cash feel as if he owned the world. “I’d like to see a game, too.”

“Let’s do it,” Stretch said.

That afternoon, they went back to the hotel and engaged in some hot, dirty fucking, went to the game, then headed to another bar for more bourbon and barbeque, returning just several hours before the funeral and crashing in exhaustion.





Soft hair tickled Cash’s nose as he opened his eyes and blinked at the sunshine streaming through the opened blind. The sound of running water hurt Cash’s ears. Fuck, his goddamn head pounded. Judging from the hard body pressing against him, Stretch’s head rested against his chest and Fee was in the shower.

Kissing Stretch’s forehead, Cash tried to move without awakening the man in his arms. Instead, his head plopped onto the pillow and his eyes flew open.

Cash winced. “Go back to sleep, babe. It’s early. You still have another half hour to sleep.”

Stretch had the amazing ability to go from sleep to wakefulness within moments. Living as he did, Cash could do it, too. It made him grouchy. The only thing that put Stretch in a bad mood was his family, more than Hanson’s death, Cash’s unwillingness to settle down, and his injuries.

Sadness lingered in Stretch’s eyes, so Cash lay down again and pulled Stretch back into his arms, placing a tender kiss on his mouth. All the pain and humiliation he’d held in the past several days, in front of Fee, roared to life now.

If Cash could crawl inside Stretch and take the hurt away, even if it meant bearing the burden himself, he would. Tasting the track of tears, Cash stroked Stretch’s nape, before claiming his mouth in a deeper kiss.