Something I Need (xoxo Nashville Book 1) (4 page)

C
ash headed
to the bar the next morning. Not that he actually needed to work at this hour. No. This was more of a friendly social visit. He wanted to check in on Jonte – make sure she was okay, and follow up on his offer of helping her look for a new place to stay.

Okay, so he was also going to check she hadn’t cleared out everything in the apartment the minute Dolly had left for work. Of course Dolly had already called him to make sure he was updated on all things Jonte, including the fact she was still sleeping soundly on the pull-out.

He approached the apartment door and hesitated. What if she didn’t want company and had only accepted his help to be polite? What if she’d actually woken up and already taken off? Cash ran his hand through his still-damp hair and decided his best bet was probably to arrive with gifts, or more precisely food, seeing as god only knew what Dolly had hidden away in her cupboards.

Hmmm…what would she like?

He ducked across the street to the popular art deco café and decided to play it safe, ordering two bagels: one plain one with cream cheese, and a cinnamon one topped with butter and sprinkled sugar. Knowing Dolly would definitely have coffee upstairs, he returned to the apartment.

Hmmm…should he knock or use his key? Was it rude to use the keys to his own apartment? Did Jonte realize this was his apartment? Christ, it wasn’t like they took in random Aussie country music wannabes all the time! Why was this so damn hard?

Both. He should do both. That way if she was indecent or something, at least she had warning someone was about to enter.

Cash stuck the two bagel-filled white paper bags between his teeth and grabbed his keys, shoving them into the lock. He rapped his hand on the door, waited thirty seconds, and when he heard nothing, turned his key and opened the door.

“Jonte?” He stuck his head inside the apartment, his heart thumpthumping out of his chest to a quick two-step beat at the thought of seeing her. He scanned the open-plan room, and when he saw the empty sheets all crumpled on the pull-out, he walked in.

Unsure of Jonte’s location, Cash shut the door behind him and quickly crossed the room, making a beeline for the compact kitchenette. He dropped the bagels on the bench top and set about filling up the kettle.

“WHAT THE!” Jonte’s muffled shriek echoed from down the hall.

Oops!
He’d just unwittingly scalded her in the shower. Well, that wasn’t exactly the impression he’d been going for this morning.

The hallway door creaked open and Jonte’s drenched head poked out.

“Oh, it’s you. Hi,” she said, her scowl softening into that vibrant smile.

Thump, thump, thump went his heart.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were in the shower.”

“All good. Silly question, how’d you get in?”

Cash jingled his keys in the air.

“Oh, right.”

“Coffee?”

Jonte nodded and retreated back into the bathroom, yelling out, “I’ll be out in a few,” before shutting the door again.

Right. So at least the awkwardness was out of the way.

Cash busied himself finding Dolly’s French Press and two of the funky glass mugs she had made him order from his catering supplier. A few minutes later, Jonte emerged from the bathroom dressed just as casually as she’d been the past two days and wearing a towel wrapped around her head. She slid onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. The irony that she was seated opposite him was not at all lost on Cash, forever the bartender.

Unsure of what to say, he loaded up a small serving plate with the two bagels. Between the bagels, the French press, and the cream and the sugar, he figured he’d laid out an appetizing little spread for them. He nudged one of the glasses towards Jonte and poured them both a coffee.

“Not sure how ya take it.” His lips pursed up into a half grin before he took a long sip of his black coffee, his second one for the day. Curious, he watched Jonte drop a heaped spoonful of sugar into her cup, generously topping it off with cream.

“Thanks.” She smiled and took a sip.

“Hungry?”

Jonte nodded.

“Sweet or savory?” He gestured at the bagels.

Her eyes darted back and forth between the two options, clearly hesitating.

“You don’t like bagels?”

She bit down on her lip and shrugged. Christ, she was adorable. No, she wasn’t.

“I’ve never actually had one. They’re not a big thing back home.”

“No bagels?”

“Not really.”

Ignoring the two-step thumping that was still dancing away in his chest, Cash pulled a knife out of the drawer and cut each bagel in half. “There. Now you can try both.” He pushed the plate closer towards her, and she opted for half of the darker one.

“Mmmm.” She let out a long moan as she took her first bite.

The bagel was still warm, with melted butter and a super-sweet cinnamon kick – but a million times better than a cinnamon donut. Yeah, they were his favorite too.

“You like?”

“Uh huh.” She nodded and licked the sugar and dripping butter off her fingers.

Was it weird that he was entranced by the way her fingers slid into her mouth? Yep, it was definitely all kinds of pervy. He grabbed for half of the cream cheese bagel, just in case she wanted the other half of the cinnamon one she was devouring.

“So good.” She went back for another bite and moaned softly again.

Oh shit.

Cash didn’t have to look down to realize the effect all her moaning was having on him. He stepped closer to the bench, glad for its coverage while he willed himself to get it together and under control, forcing himself to think repulsive thoughts.

Dead bodies. Are stiff. Crap.

Nannie and Pop having sex. Gross.
But fuck, it was still sex.

“Thanks for bringing breakfast,” Jonte said.

Cash looked up from his bagel. Nope, he definitely wasn’t just thinking about smearing cream cheese over her body and taking his time to lick it off.

Cream cheese.

Seriously?

What the fuck was wrong with him today?

“Figured you might be hungry.” He shrugged, taking a bite of his untouched half bagel. “One of my buddies is in real estate and property development. Thought we could give him a call to see if he can help you out.”

“Wow. Your sister really was right about you.”

Cash rolled his eyes, confident her remark was in relation to the whole white knight crap they’d been throwing around the other night. He wasn’t a white knight; he just liked to help people. That was a good thing, right? So what was with all the teasing and ridicule?

“Just eat your bagel, sweetheart.”

Tanner would know someone or have a place that she could go. How had he not thought of Tanner last night? It didn’t matter. He’d line something up, and by this afternoon she’d be gone and there’d be no more thoughts of cream cheese in places it had no place being. Everything would go back to normal. No drama in sight. Simple.

* * *

J
onte definitely needed
to suss out where Cash had gotten these bagels from. They were simply divine. And she was already able to see that, beyond his good looks, Cash was a pretty decent person. As was Dolly, obviously. She had totally lucked out in meeting them and wondered whether they’d stay friends. It would be nice to at least know two people in the whole country.

“So how long until you’re ready to take off?”

“Oh, whenever.” Jonte looked up from her bagel. “I’m pretty much ready now if you are.” She smiled, genuinely grateful he was keen to help her out.

Cash chuckled and tapped a finger against the top of his head. “Sure about that?”

Jonte’s hands shot up to her own head, and in the process, toppled off the towel that had her hair all wrapped up. “Oops. Thanks. I forgot about that.” Her face flamed and she couldn’t believe how silly she’d made herself look.

“Why don’t you go do your hair, and I’ll do the dishes.” Cash started piling everything up.

“I can do the dishes. Besides, you did breakfast.”

Cash nodded towards the bathroom. “I’ve got this. Go.”

Jonte slid off the stool and scooped up her errant towel. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to start calling you Lancelot,” she said over her shoulder and ducked back into the bathroom.

Jonte had been oh so tempted to jump in Dolly’s enormous freestanding oval porcelain tub earlier this morning. No doubt Dolly loved coming home to soak in that sucker after a big day at work. But Jonte’s hair was still super gross from the traveling and pressurized cabins, so instead she’d opted for another shower to re-wash it again this morning.

She squirted some of her miracle-working conditioning serum into the palm of her hand and worked it through her hair. Whilst Dolly had said
mi casa es su casa
last night, Jonte didn’t want to take advantage and use Dolly’s hair dryer or the awesome-looking curler that was sitting on the bench. Besides, Cash was waiting. Instead, she deftly piled her hair into another messy bun on the top of her head, brushed her teeth, and then packed her toiletries into her small bag, so as not to leave Dolly’s space disrupted.

“Ready to go, Guinevere?” Cash smirked, all sexy like.

Jonte shoved her toiletries back inside her duffel bag. “Right. So you heard that comment?”

“Yep.”

She threw her handbag over her shoulder and looked at Cash. He gestured towards the door. They went to leave and she remembered she needed to fix the pull-out. Only, as she now saw, it seemed Cash had done that too.

He held the door open for her and double-checked it was locked before following her down the stairwell that led out to the street.

“So where exactly are we going?” Jonte pulled her sunglasses out from her bag and popped them on.

“I wanna talk to my buddy Tanner.” Cash beeped the remote on his keys to unlock his truck.

“Nice.” Jonte whistled, taking in the schmick-looking fully restored and lowered hot rod-esque truck. It was custom painted in a deep metallic blue, and light-blue flames licked the bonnet of the car. “What exactly is it?”

“A ‘49 Chevy.”

Cash held the door open and then shut it behind Jonte as she sat down on the blue and white leather seats. Wow. Just wow. Had this car been parked outside the bar the last two nights? She seriously doubted she could have missed it, even in her tired and crazy state. It was already turning the heads of pedestrians.

Cash opened the driver’s side door and jumped in. He started up the truck and it practically growled to life. When the engine noise settled down to a lower rumble, Cash gave it a bit of a rev.

Was it possible for cars to sound sexy? This one seriously did. And it kind of felt it too. New cars were just so sleek and smooth, but this truck was all curves, and the engine made the truck vibrate slightly. Jonte grinned like a silly schoolgirl, feeling like she’d been transported back in time, like she was on the set of
Grease
or something. Except Cash was way hotter than Danny Zuko.

Gah! Desperate not to blush and make it obvious she was thinking about him like that, Jonte tried to come up with something to talk about.

Cash wound down the window, lazily rested his arm on the windowsill, and then pulled away from the curb.

“So what’s the go with the anti-country thing at the bar?”

“Just ‘cause we’re in Nashville, don’t mean everyone loves Country.” Cash replied with what she was noticing seemed to be his trademark shrug.

His accent seemed to have thickened when he’d answered her just now. She wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but she definitely felt stupid for asking. She sank onto her own armrest, as far away from him as she could get.

A few minutes passed and Cash broke the silence. “My buddies and I got sick of not being able to walk into a bar without hearing that damn twangy, depressing racket. Obviously I realize in this town, my bar appeals to a niche market.”

Jonte turned to look at him, apparently unable to mask her surprise at that comment. Cash was hot and clearly had brains, not that she’d been under the impression he was dumb or anything. Honestly, she’d been trying not to think too much about him at all.

“I’m not just some stupid bartender –”

“I never said you –”

“I know,” he replied, cutting her off this time. “Just sayin’. I haven’t always been behind the bar. I studied Business at Tennessee State and I own Rock on Nashville.”

“Oh.” He owned the bar? That explained a lot, but also opened up a whole Pandora’s box of follow up questions.

“Yeah, I was set on helping Pop out at the ranch, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Wanted me to go to college and do something I could be proud of.”

“Wow.” Yep, one word was all Jonte could manage. She wondered what it was like to have such supportive influences. Her mother was a practical woman, not one for romanticizing life or coddling.

You can’t be a singer. You need a backup plan. Teaching is a perfectly respectable profession.

“Yeah, he’s a good man.”

“So is Pop your dad or –”

“Nah, my dad’s dad.”

“You hate country music but were willing to devote your life to a ranch? Isn’t that –”