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His jaw clenches. “You’re the one behind the article?”
I laugh. “Not that one. The last thing I needed was my mother thinking I’d moved in with another man…but the rumors of Hanson and me dating…yeah, that’s me.”
“Grace, you can’t date him.”
“I’m dating you. We just discussed this. It’s just a show with him.”
He scrubs a hand over his forehead, and I feel torn for the entire charade. “It’s just until the divorce is official, Cash. Believe me, I want everything you want. I want to have dinner with you in public, I want to walk down the street with you holding hands…I want to dance outside the shadows,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his own.
Cash kisses me softly and his face relaxes. “Come to Nashville with me this weekend.”
“What?” I ask, confused as to the change in topic.
“In Nashville we can just be us. Grace and Cash, not Mr. James and Mrs. Kensington. No one knows you there, and I’m not the billionaire bachelor in Nashville. The media there is used to Taylor Swift and Carrie Underwood; they don’t give a shit about me. Come to Nashville with me and hold my hand.”
“That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said.”
Cash’s eyes crease and his smile grows. “Is that a yes?”
“Yeah, Whiskey, I’ll go to Nashville with you.”
Chapter 33
Cash
As annoyed as I was that Grace forced us to take separate flights, I’m glad she’s not here yet. I’m not sure I could have put on a fake smile and entertained her last night after the conversation I had with our supposed partners about the contract. My conversations this morning confirmed that it’s not just the threat of someone trying to move in on our distributors. It’s already happened.
“Carter, they can’t meet our supply. I need you to make some calls…”
Carter lets out an unsurprising curse. “Fuck. Okay, I’ll call Warner and see if he can help.”
“I’m meeting with Danny tomorrow, but I have a feeling I’m going to hear more of the same. We need to get to the bottom of this. If it’s Hanson—”
Carter cuts me off. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
“But what if it’s Dad?” As much as I acted shocked that Grace’s mom could be so awful to her, I should know how terrible parents can be. How the fact that someone is your flesh and blood—the person who created you—doesn’t mean shit to certain people. It seems that my father and Grace’s mother are built from the same cloth.
Carter groans into the phone. “I’ll talk to Frank and have him look into Dad’s activities.” It’s a good idea and one I would have thought of had I not been so focused on convincing Grace to be my girlfriend.
My head falls back against the couch as I berate myself for my latest misstep. I’m letting everyone down lately. “That’s a good idea. Sorry, I should have done that already.”
Carter sighs. “That’s why there are four of us. Lean on us, Cash. You don’t have to do everything. It’s not all on you.”
I appreciate the sentiment, but the title does in fact mean that the buck stops with me. It’s my responsibility and I’m fucking it up.
“Thanks. I have to go,” I say as I watch the notification pop up on my phone letting me know that Grace has landed. Let’s not add being late to pick her up to my list of fuckups today.
Despite my best effort, I can’t get the sick, nervous feeling to leave my stomach. Not even Grace’s radiant smile and the excited glint in her eyes as she points to landmarks as we drive can kick this mood I’m in. It’s like I’ve been living in a bubble for the last few weeks, focused solely on one thing—convincing Grace to be with me—and now that I’ve finally got her I can’t even enjoy her because the cost is so high.
As she rambles on about her flight and asks questions about what she sees, my mind spins trying to make headway on an issue I can’t tackle without being at work. My fingers squeeze the steering wheel, and I find myself checking my messages every time we stop at a red light.
Any update from Frank? I text Carter.
He replies immediately. No indication that Hanson is talking to any of the distributors. He’s still with Lawler, and if he’s moving in on ours, no one is talking.
I grit my teeth. If it’s not Hanson, it’s my father. I’m not sure who I’d rather face. I’d certainly enjoy beating the shit out of Hanson—in business and in reality. It’s a long time coming. The light turns green again and I toss the phone down into the cup holder and hit the gas.
“Cash…” Grace says in a soft tone, “is everything okay?”
