Cash closed his eyes and when he opened them again, it was Sunday morning. He sat up on the sofa and plowed his hands through his hair. The restaurant/bar was closed and quiet. His keys lay on top of a note that said his steak and potato were in a white sack in the office fridge. Cash figured he would have made it home all in one piece, but he didn’t approve of nor was he in the habit of drinking and driving. Therefore, he was thankful his friends had stopped him fromtaking the risk of killing himself or someone else. Wondering what time it was, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it on.
He had texts from Chase and Sam wanting to make sure he was okay. He texted back that he was fine. He had a hangover, but he didn’t mention that. Served him right. He also realized he had a voicemail from Tracy. He placed his finger on the message, ready to swipe and delete it. Since when had a woman driven him to drink? Never. But was that her fault or his? His.
Cash tapped the cell phone screen and listened.
“Cash, you said once I was brave. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you that I love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you about the travel assignment I didn’t want and have since turned down. I can’t stop crying. Dude won’t eat. We’re at my apartment. I love you so much, Cash. Dude loves you too. If we can at least be friends, please come see us.”
Cash grabbed his cowboy hat off a table, got his food out of the fridge, and wrote a quick ‘thank you’ on the note. Keys in hand, he left the office and strode down the hall. The front door was such that it let him out and locked behind him. He strode down the sidewalk to his Mustang.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Tracy lay curled up on her sofa as Dude stared out the living room window.
“Cash isn’t coming, Dude,” Tracy said and blew her nose. She’d taken a shower this morning and cried. She’d blow-dried her hair and cried. She’d tugged on a tummy shirt and bikini panties and cried. “It’s been twelve hours since I left him that voicemail.”
Dude glanced at her and looked back out of the window. The German shepherd whimpered, then barked. Tracy sat up on the sofa and sniffled. When two hard knocks sounded on the door, Tracy wiped her eyes and stood. Dude loped across the room, tail wagging. The dog’s reaction told Tracy exactly who was on the other side of the door. Heart pounding, Tracy raced across the room, unlocked the door, and flung it open.
“I love you, too, Tracy.”
Cash Cooper. The love of her life. Tracy saw a flash of a brown cowboy hat on dark-brown hair. Brows creased over cobalt eyes riveted on her. Shadow of a black beard. Snug black tee shirt and blue jeans. White sack in hand. Leaning forward, he swept her up and into his arms.
“Cash,” she breathed.
With her arms circling his neck and her legs clampingaround his waist, Cash walked into the apartment and kicked the door shut with a booted foot. Dude placed his front paws on Cash’s right thigh and whimpered. Holding Tracy with the white sack at the small of her back, Cash reached down with his other hand and scratched the dog’s head. Cash’s mouth closed over Tracy’s and she kissed him, pouring every ounce of her love into the man whom she’d feared never to see again. When he gently broke the kiss, she smiled at him. With a steely glare, Cash tilted his head and gave her a scolding, half grin.
“Do you always open the door in your panties?”
“Dude told me it was you.”
“Yeah, I heard him.” He looked down at Dude. “I didn’t forget about you, boy.”
Dude barked. Cash smiled at Tracy and patted her fanny. Tracy put her feet on the floor but kept her arms around his neck. Cash held her close and kissed her again. Tracy never wanted to let Cash go. Dude leaned against his leg. Tracy loosened her embrace and looked up at Cash.
“Thank you for coming to see us.”
“Some little girl left me a voicemail crying and saying she loves me.” He cocked a brow.
“That was me,” Tracy whispered and hugged him again. Then tears trickled down her cheeks and between sobs she said, “I love you so much, Cash. I know I’ve brought you nothing but trouble. I’m so sorry for every?—”
“I’m sorry too.” Cash tossed the white sack onto the counter separating the small living room from the kitchen and cupped his hands to her face. “I’m a thirty-year-old grown-ass businessman and I should have been able to negotiate with you better than I did.”
“I’m a twenty-four-year-old grown-ass journalist and I should have been able to communicate my feelings into words with you better than I did.”
“This whole being in love thing is a first for me and if you give me the chance, I’ll get better at it,” Cash said and thumbed the tears off her cheeks. “I promise.”
“This is my first time being in love and I promise to get better at it too.”
“Just promise I’m your first, last, and only.”
“My first, last, and only. I promise, Cash.”
“I promise you’re my last and only, Tracy.” Cash kissed her again, and Dude woofed his approval. Cash snared her hand and strode to the counter. “Dude, that same little girl told me between sobs you aren’t eating.” Cash picked up the white sack and gave it a shake. Dude barked and licked his chops. “So, I brought you a steak and potato.”
“Did you hear that, Dude?” Tracy asked, walking around the counter. Cash handed her the sack, and after cutting the steak and potato into bites, she emptied it on top of the untouched hard dog food into Dude’s dog bowl. “Thank you, Cash,” she said as Dude devoured the food. “Are you hungry?”
“I am now that I’ve seen you,” he said. “Dude’s eating last night’s dinner.”
Self-consciously, Tracy ran her fingers through her unruly hair and said, “I-I wasn’t expecting you, so I don’t have makeup or decent clothes on.”
