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She smells like citrus and feels so good I have to let her go because my cock is already hardening from the brief contact.
Not happening. Doesn’t matter if it’s June. I don’t do relationships anymore.
I come to my senses and step away. “You’re back.”
“It’s good to see you again, Cash.” She sounds uncertain.
I settle for a grunt and take another step back. June or not, I am not interested in having my life derailed by a woman again. Doesn’t matter why she stopped writing me. Why she’s here.
“I’m not here for long,” she says suddenly. “Just for the summer, probably. I don’t know. It’s until I can get my life back together and then I’ll be on my way.”
Why is her life not together?
Last I heard, she had some asshole boyfriend in Dallas. Had he done something to her? “What happened?”
June opens her mouth to answer as my phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans.
Sounds rush back in. People talking. The clink of knives and forks on plates. The hiss of the grill in the kitchen.
Every single person is staring at us. Rod Coleman gives me a thumbs-up from the corner. Tilly whispers something to him, and I can’t help scowling.
No one knows about the flame I held for June except for my buddy, Savage, and my brothers, but damn if they wouldn’t talk about it if they did. And I’ve had enough stories circulating about me. The last thing I need is a renewed interest in my life now that I have Alex to look after.
And flames burn hot, but they also burn out.
“Your phone,” June says.
I look back at her, and it’s a struggle. I bring my phone out of my pocket. My father’s number flashes on the screen. “I’ve got to take it. It’s Dad.”
“Sure,” June says. “It was nice to see you, Cash.” The words don’t sound truthful. She rushes past me and out the diner door before I can reply.
My phone keeps ringing. The diners keep staring. Marci is pulling faces behind the counter and beckoning me over.
June Jackson is back.
Five
JUNE
Cash Taylor is in Heatstroke.
I sit in the car in front of my mother’s house, the house I grew up in, the one that’s right next door to Cash’s childhood home, and try to take deep, even breaths.
This is the last thing I need.
I’m already dealing with the whole “Braydon is a cheating asshole” issue. Throw in my secret high school crush and this is too much to handle.
Olivia and Cash and I had been best friends, partly because my mother had been more of a parent to Olivia than her own. Olivia and I had practically shared my bedroom.
The three of us were inseparable until we weren’t anymore.
My gaze wanders over to Cash’s dad’s place. It looks neat as a pin, well cared for, but Cash doesn’t live there anymore. Is he just visiting? Alex is his kid. Does that mean he’s married? Married to Olivia? What the hell is he even doing in Heatstroke? Is Olivia here?
Cash is a country music star. The last I heard, years ago, he was touring to sold-out shows across the country.
Forget it. It doesn’t matter.
But the way his arms wrapped around me, the way it felt. The way he smelled. Like a man—leather, a hint of spice, and the scent of his skin.
