Page 52 of Coming Up Roses

“Oh, I don’t want to bother them with my wild boys.”

“Wild? They’re perfect angels,” my mom interjects.

God bless her, she sees the good in absolutely everyone. Not to say my nephews aren’t good—they’re just boys, and all boy at that. Paige isn’t too far off calling them wild, but what six-year-old boys aren’t?

“Nah, the girls at the salon wouldn’t mind,” I say confidently. I’m one hundred and ten percent sure they’d be great with Preston and Lucas.

“Yeah?” Jake asks, looking too smug for his own good. “You’d know, wouldn’t you, Cash?”

I'm not sure what his game here is, but he needs to stop. There's no sense in bringing Myla Rose up to Mom. Especially now.

“What are you blabbing on about, Jacob?” Mom asks.

“Oh, nothing, just . . . y’all know Cash is seeing the owner of Southern Roots?”

Mom’s fork clatters against her plate. Paige stops with hers halfway to her mouth. Thankfully, the twins are too busy flicking peas at one another to be bothered with this conversation.

“Cash Michael Carson.” Oh, shit, she full-named me. “You have a girlfriend?”

“Mom, no—”

“A girlfriend you haven’t ever mentioned? One I haven’t even met? A girlfri—”

This insanity has to stop. “MOM! I don’t have a girlfriend. I promise.”

“You want her to be your girlfriend,” Jake tosses out. Apparently, he’s feeling real helpful tonight. I'm this close to throwing him under the bus with Paige.

“You know what? You're right. I'd love nothing more than to date her. But thanks to you, she won't even speak to me. Wanna get into why?" I can feel my blood pressure rising. Damnit.

“You’re getting awfully upset over this, Cash. That’s not like you,” Mom says in that soft, soothing way only a mom is capable of. “There’s obviously something. Tell me about her.”

“Fuuuu . . .” I clear my throat. “All right. Her name is Myla Rose. She owns the salon in town with her best friend. She’s really good friends with Drake. We've spent some time together, and like I keep saying, your other son ruined any chance I had with her.” I'm trying my hardest to keep my anger at bay. It's a battle to not be mad at Jake over this to start with, and with the smarmy way he's acting? I'd say it's a losing battle.

"Jacob Paul, what did you do?"

"Mom, it's really nothing—a misunderstanding."

I snort my disbelief. "Of epic fucking proportions."

"Cash Michael, you watch your mouth!" Mom smacks the back of my head.

Twenty-four years on this earth, and my mother still scolds me like a child, God love her. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry."

Jake chuckles, which causes Paige to smack the back of his head. "I swear, Jake, y'all act like children sometimes. I mean, the twins are behaving better right now."

"What did you do to cause a rift between Cash and his girlfriend, Jake?"

I'm looking down at my lap, just waiting to see what story he spins. Though, I guess I shoulda been looking at him. Then, maybe, I’d have known this was coming.

“Did I mention she’s pregnant?” He casually throws it out there, almost like he's trying to deflect from the shit-storm he caused with her. Because he fucking is . . . asshole.

I’m not ashamed that she’s pregnant. Hell, no. I think she’s strong as shit—willing to go it alone and raise that baby. It’s actually a bit of a turn-on . . . like everything else about her. Jesus, I gotta get a grip on this shit.

“Oh, she’s . . . expecting?” Now, most people would be waiting for some judgey remark to fall from my Mom’s lips, but I swear, the woman’s a damn saint. “Well, isn’t that wonderful? Babies are a gift from God.” Her eyes are all watery, like she’s just been told she’s getting another grandbaby.

Oh, shit.That train needs to pull right back into the station.

“Yeah, Mom, it is. For her. Not us. Not you. Myla Rose is my . . . well, my nothing now. She's my nothing." I cut my eyes at Jake.

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