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“And what am I supposed to do about that?” Walker asks, sounding genuinely confused. “She’s not going to take cash. The woman is too prideful.”
“We just need to know what she’s lacking, so we can fill the need,” I explain.
Walker looks at every one of us before speaking again. “And because I was in the military, everyone automatically thinks that I’m on the same wavelength as her?”
He sighs when no one speaks.
“I’ll talk to her,” he grumbles. “But I’m not making any promises.”
“Before she starts to work here,” I say. “She’s got such little time to herself.”
“Maybe find out why she’s taking a second job during the interview,” Madison suggests.
“We don’t exactly do interviews here, Mads.”
“Then now is the time to start,” she says with a quick dip of her head as if her word is gospel.
He takes a deep breath, but instead of arguing, he simply nods and walks away.
“Maybe we just have another fundraiser after the cop/fireman one,” Chase suggests.
“She isn’t going to just accept that,” Cash reminds him.
“Maybe she will. It’s rude not to accept a gift someone gives you.”
“It’s how I ended up with that ugly plate collection,” I remind them.
Both Cash and Madison cringe, but Chase has never been in my house. He hasn’t seen the ugly plates lining the top of my kitchen cabinets.
“Your Aunt Mable isn’t dead yet?” Madison asks.
“Madison!” I snap, but, honestly, I can’t blame her. I told her once the only reason the plates are on display is because the woman is still alive. They will come down the second I can no longer be chastised for being ungrateful.
My friend grins at me, not a hint of regret for speaking her mind in her pretty features.
“We’ll figure something out,” Chase says. “In the meantime, I think I need a dance with my fiancée.”
Madison takes his hand when it’s offered as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Cash and I watch them walk toward the dance floor, the fast tempo of the song playing from the jukebox not deterring them from dancing close, both of them hearing something else as they hold each other.
A wave of green envy washes over me.
“What are you waiting for?” Cash asks. I don’t even try to fight the smile when I look over and see his proffered hand. “Let’s dance.”
I let him pull me out on the dance floor, and as my luck would have it, the song changes less than a minute in, a slower one echoing through the bar. Cash doesn’t miss a beat, pulling me against him. As much as I want it, I’m also very aware of everyone around us and what they might be thinking with us dancing so very close together.
“Stop,” Cash says, urging my face up to look him in the eye. “Forget everything just for a few minutes.”
I nod, knowing that if he commands it, then it’s what I’ll do. If he isn’t worried about people gossiping, then I shouldn’t be either.
“That’s better,” he whispers, pulling me even tighter against his chest.
I sink into the man, letting him lead me slowly around the dance floor.
“The only thing I want you thinking about is how wet your pussy is going to be when I get you home and how loud you’re going to scream my name before the night is over.”
I nearly melt into the floor with his words. I know without even looking into a mirror that my face is flame red, wondering if anyone nearby heard what he just said.
