Page 11 of Saints Like Him

Burke hadn’t said anything to him. Probably because he knew it was a sore subject for Cash. His crew had worked their asses off to build new lives for themselves, and the Salvation Anew assholes didn’t care who they hurt with their accusations. The success of the ranch didn’t rely on support from the surrounding community, but that didn’t mean Cash wanted trouble. He sure as hell didn’t want people confronting his men when they went into town. Pastor Jeremiah had garnered attention in the media with his “farm felon” talk. Sometimes all the reporters needed was a catchy moniker to run with a story; the truth be damned. Rory had worked tirelessly to fix all that, and Cash hated to see his hard work going down the drain. Dread sat like a brick in his stomach by the time he finished the article.

Voices and laughter filtered into his office, and Cash realized the rest of the crew had arrived for breakfast. He folded the paper and set it back on his desk. He’d had enough negativity to last a while. Cash wanted to be with the people who’d become his family. When he reached the dining room, Rory was passing out souvenirs to the crew. There was a fresh round of exclamations and guffawing with each revealed gift. Cash understood why when Rory handed him a keychain that said, “What happens in Kansas stays in Kansas.” Most of the gifts either played on or outright stole slogans from other states or cities. Rueben got a coffee mug that said, “Topeka: The City That Always Sleeps.” Harry got a trucker hat that said, “I left my heart in Wichita.” Some souvenirs included famous lines from The Wizard of Oz. They were silly little gifts, but everyone loved them.

Once the laughter died down, they grabbed plates and filled them with food. Besides the pumpkin muffins, Harry and Rory served a breakfast casserole that combined hash browns, eggs, cheese, and breakfast meats. Cash took a serving and a half because it was one of his favorite meals, and he helped himself to a third muffin. He could punish himself in his home gym later.

“How was poker last night?” Cash asked once they settled around the table.

He expected the stories to be numerous enough to get them through breakfast, but the replies were brief and general. They all had a great time. Harry and Dylan have a cool place. Finley won most of the chips…again. Cash looked at them, wondering why they didn’t embellish like usual, but realized the answer was sleeping in his bed. Of course they’d noticed the sporty sedan parked in front of his house. None of them seemed brave enough to come right out and ask him about it, though he felt the curious glances tossed his way.

“Did you buy a new car yesterday?” Tyler finally asked.

Some of the crew groaned, and others laughed. Wallets came out and several bills got passed to Rueben, who laughed gleefully and tucked his winnings away. Cash assumed the bet was on which of the crew would break first and ask about it. God, he loved the assholes so much, but he wouldn’t let his expression give that or anything else away. Apparently Rory wasn’t inclined to help them out either because he just sat there with a smug smirk on his face.

“No, I didn’t buy a new car,” Cash replied.

“An inheritance from an unknown benefactor,” Kieran suggested with a smirk.

“It fell through a porthole,” Rueben said.

Finley grinned like a lunatic, and Cash braced himself for his guess. Fin’s mouth opened, but no words came out because Nick had chosen that moment to enter the dining room. Silence washed over the group. Cash felt the exact instant everyone’s gaze pivoted to him, but he only had eyes for Nick. He wore jeans so faded they were nearly threadbare in interesting places. They fit Nick like a second skin, and Cash hated and loved them at the same time. Nick’s shirt was so old that it was hard to discern its original color, but Cash remembered. The shirt had been Kelly green. The white screen-printed lettering behind the sling was missing, cracked, or peeling in most places. Cash knew exactly what it said because he’d bought the shirt on his first day of community college. He’d tucked it away as a cherished reminder of the day that changed his life. Cash thought he’d lost the shirt in a move, but it turned out he’d been a victim of theft. And in more ways than one it seemed. Nick had stolen a huge chunk of his heart that fateful weekend, so why not take his clothes too?

But holy hell, Nick looked so fucking good in it. The hem didn’t even reach the waistband of his jeans, leaving a good inch or more of golden skin on display. Cash dropped his gaze and reassessed the jeans. Those threadbare areas looked familiar too. When Nick angled his body to scout the food, Cash noticed the iconic triangle Guess logo was missing. The denim was still a little darker where it used to be. He’d fucking loved those jeans when he’d bought them at the thrift store in town. They’d fit him so well, and he wore them until they were no longer decent to wear in public. Like the shirt, he hadn’t been sure when they’d gone missing, only that they had. He’d mourned their loss and wanted to blame the joy of rediscovery on his racing heart. But foolishness was not a key to Cash’s success, and he forced himself to admit several truths.

Nick Scott wore the outfit better. With his bare feet and mussed hair, no one had ever looked more beautiful to Cash. The things Nick did to his body were wicked, but it was nothing compared to the impact he had on Cash’s heart. And regardless of the speech he’d given Nick in the hot tub, Cash was well and truly fucked. His heart waved the white flag in surrender.

Intimidation was an old foe Nick hadn’t faced off with in a long time, but the bastard reintroduced itself with a flare in Cash’s dining room. If the emotion were a person, it would stroke the curling ends of its overlong mustache and laugh maniacally at Nick’s discomfort. Every pair of eyes was trained in his direction, reminding him of his first day in private school after his mother married Charles Snyder. He’d felt the weight of the students’ stares and his new stepfather’s expectations. The pressure had been surreal, but it paled to his current circumstances. He hadn’t stayed in touch with a single person from his school days, but the people gathered around the table mattered to Cash. Nick wanted to make a good impression, which meant he probably should’ve dressed better. But his outfit made a statement, even if only Cash understood it.

Nick tore his gaze away from the delicious food and met each of the curious gazes, saving the most important for last. He’d met most of the crew during brief visits but would’ve recognized the side-betting busybodies by Cash’s descriptions alone. He took a moment to introduce himself to everyone, shaking hands with those who extended him the courtesy. Rory popped up out of his seat, wrapped his arms around Nick’s waist, and did his best boa constrictor impersonation.

“Leave some air,” Nick gasped.

Rory laughed and loosened his grip, but he didn’t pull away. “You have some serious explaining to do,” his little brother whispered before finally letting go. Nick wasn’t sure if Rory meant his presence on the ranch or his injury.

“Looking forward to it,” Nick said, but he figured his host deserved those answers first. They’d only scratched the surface the previous night.

Rory gave him one last squeeze before dropping his arms. “I’ll make you a plate. Sit down.”

“Thank you,” Nick said. The only empty seats were the one Rory had vacated and another at the farthest point from the person he needed most.

“Here, take my seat.” Rueben rose from his spot immediately to Cash’s right. The Hispanic guy in his midtwenties was almost too beautiful to be real. He’d become an overnight sensation when Rory had launched the Redemption Ridge YouTube channel. People were obsessed with his soulful eyes and ridiculously long eyelashes. Rueben was even more gorgeous in person and just as thoughtful as he came across in his segments.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Nick replied at the same time Cash said, “That’s unnecessary.”

Nick met Cash’s gaze for the first time since entering the dining room. Cash had his mask firmly in place now, but Nick had felt his incinerating perusal earlier. It had been uncomfortable to dress himself, especially in tight clothes, but Cash’s reaction was exactly what he’d wanted. It wouldn’t be wise to push him, though, so Nick waited for Cash’s cue.

Rueben, who’d already stood up, wore a knowing smirk as he volleyed his gaze between the two men. “I insist.”

Nick forced himself to look at Rueben. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Rueben emphasized his rolled R, so the word sounded like a purr.

Nick claimed the vacated seat and scooted himself closer to the table. His toes brushed up against Cash’s socked foot, and Nick’s decision not to push him dissolved. Nick slid his foot under Cash’s pant leg to touch bare skin. Outwardly, Cash didn’t betray that Nick was playing footsie under the table, but Nick felt a slight tremor beneath his toes. He expected Cash to pull away, but to Nick’s surprise, he inched his leg even closer.

Rory set an overflowing plate of food in front of him. “I can’t eat all this,” Nick said. The shock halted his secret massage, but he kept his foot tucked under Cash’s jeans.

“Try,” Rory said. “You look better than you did in March, but you’re still too skinny.” Rory patted him on his good shoulder and resumed his seat next to Ivan.

Cash leaned toward him and whispered, “I’ll help.” He snagged a muffin off his plate, but there were still two more.

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