Page 74 of Coming Up Roses

Myla Rose

I swear,since Sunday, I’ve been walking around on a Cash Carson high. But now that I haven’t seen him since, I’m crashing and heading into withdrawals.

That man is so far under my skin that he’s my first thought every morning and my last every night. I literally fall asleep to his voice and wake up to a sweet text.

A girl could get used to this, that’s for damn sure. With that said, insanely busy or not, I need to see him. Need to feel him. Touch him. Taste him.

It’s eleven o’clock in the morning, and I’ve already done three colors and two cuts. I’m dead standing and nowhere near finished, thanks to the fact that I’ve had to sprinkle my Friday clients throughout the rest of the week to accommodate my twenty-week appointment. I’m way overbooked.

Once the last of the hair on the floor is swept up, I take refuge in the dispensary. I have twenty minutes before my next client, and as hungry as I am, my exhaustion is winning. I plan to sit here until I absolutely have to move.

I swear, no one ever talks about the downsides of pregnancy . . . bloating, fatigue, swelling, and I’m only halfway!

I quickly tap out a text to Cash, just to say Hi, before laying my head on the table. My body is slowly relaxing, and I’m on the verge of a really great nap when that oh-so-yummy citrus scent invades my senses.

Yeah, this is exactly the kind of dream I like. One where my man is the star. And I swear, I hear his voice calling my name.

It’s not until I feel a warm, rough hand shaking my shoulder that I realize I’m not dreaming. Cash is here.

Cash is here! I whip my head up, almost knocking it on his. “Easy there, darlin’. Don’t want you getting hurt.”

“What are you doing here?” My eyes widen as I hear how incredibly rude I sounded. “I mean, not that I don’t want you here. I’m just surprised. Very pleasantly, though.”

“You told me how busy you were today, and I wanted to make sure you ate, so I stopped and grabbed a few slices of pizza from Rocco’s. That suit you, darlin’?” My belly grumbles loudly in response. “Guess that’s a yes, then.”

Cash pulls up a chair right next to mine, so close that I can feel the heat of his body. That man seems to run hot, but you won’t ever hear me complain.

I dig into the pizza, taking one huge bite after another, and like he can read my mind, Cash is there, holding out a bottle of water right when I need it. “Seriously, Cash, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have eaten until dinner—”

He cuts me off. “No. That’s not okay, Myla Rose.” His stern tone takes me by surprise.

“No? Excuse me, but what?”

I know he can see the fire in my eyes. After Taylor, I’m done with men telling me what to do. “Take a breath, darlin’. All I’m saying is you need to look out for yourself. You need to eat three meals and then some. Keep you and that baby fed. I’ll bring you lunch every damn day if that’s what it takes.”

I look down to hide my smile. This man. “You’re too good to me,” I tell him honestly.

“I’m nowhere near good enough, but I’m sure as shit gonna try, darlin’. I know it’s fast, but you mean everything to me. I’m falling—know that.”

Instead of responding, I push my chair back from the table. Cash’s stormy eyes are clouded with confusion, but they quickly clear when I close and lock the door. “You can’t say things like that if you don’t mean them,” I tell him as I straddle his lap.

“I mean every word I say to you . . . ever.”

With my arms looped around his neck, I roll my hips and whisper in his ear, “I’m falling too.” He brings my lips to his, and his hands fall to my hips, gripping them to guide my movements, rocking me against him until I’m shaking—gasping—panting.

“You are so goddamn beautiful when you fall apart,” he tells me as he brushes my hair out of my face. “So beautiful.”

“What . . . what about you?” I ask, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans.

“Don’t worry about me, darlin’. That was all about you.”

“Well, hell. This was the best lunch break I’ve ever had.” Lunch break? Lunch break! Oh, Lord have mercy. I just got off at work. I’m going straight to hell. But damn, was it worth it.

“Glad to be of service.” He winks and gathers up our trash. “Call me when you get home, ‘kay?”

“You know I will, b–babe.”

His eyes widen at the endearment but quickly soften. “I like that, darlin’.” With a quick press of his lips to my forehead, he’s out the door and on his way.

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