Page 6 of Cold Foot Cash

“Not everyone is built for that kind of life, Kade.”

Kade was already walking away, headed back to his station.

Cash frowned at his back. Cash felt off lately. Unsettled. Maybe he was stir-crazy, or perhaps it was something else.

Harley was a cool name. Like the motorcycles, and she had the dark hair and the fun blond streaks, and the hot-chick make-up, and the curves, at least from what he could see from her buckled into her car.

She was human as hell though, clearly. She seemed a little too excited about the prospect of him being a shifter.

And one thing he knew…one thing he’d learned…

Humans didn’t belong in his world.

Chapter Three

We need to talk.

No four texted words had ever dredged up such dread inside of Harley before. Lance always used words like those when he was planning something. Never once in the last two years had his plans benefited her in any way. Only him.

She didn’t respond.

I know you can see my messages. It says read under them.

Harley inhaled deeply, and set her phone face-up on the table of the restaurant, then took a long sip of her sweet tea. They were so close, she just needed him to follow through.

Her phone vibrated, rattling against the wood of the table. Another text lit up the screen.You aren’t home. I stopped by. I really just want to talk. I need closure.

Gritting her teeth, Harley closed her eyes until she knew the phone screen would be dark again.

On the other side of the restaurant was a bar area, with a jukebox and pool tables. There was laughter over there, but on this side, it was just her and her stupid phone, and her sweet tea, and an order of fried pickles that she’d suddenly lost her appetite for. Lance had that effect on her these days.

Hoping for a distraction, she watched the crowd growing on the bar side. A group of people seemed to be meeting up near the farthest pool table, and were hugging and greeting each other. They wore big smiles. She couldn’t help her own smile as she watched a couple of giant men rack pool balls, while their girls were chattering happily on their way to the bar. Those people were having a good day. Good days existed. Sometimes the reminder was nice.

Another man blocked her view of the guy racking the balls, and with his back to her, she could admire him safely. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and dark hair slicked back, with his hair cut short on the sides. His muscles were easily visible through the thin material of his white T-shirt. He had tattoos down his right arm that looked like tribal feathers. From what she could see at this distance, the tattoo was a cool design.

She’d checked on Carolina a couple times since this morning, but her sister wasn’t picking up the phone. Harley would need to stop by her house on the way into town later. Gah, she was putting off that four-hour drive back to Bozeman. This week would be the hardest one of her life thus far.

This guy she was staring at was right up Carolina’s alley. With an idea in her head, Harley looked around quick, and then lifted her phone, and snuck a picture of the guy as fast as she could.

He turned his face at the last second, and when she reviewed the picture and saw him looking back at her through the photo, she froze.

She recognized him.

Cash. The real Cash. Shit.

Harley jerked her attention up to him. Cash was standing by the pool table, holding a pool stick, and he was staring right at her with a slight frown etched into his handsome face. He nodded his head in a greeting, and then went back to talking to one of his friends.

“Oh my gosh,” she murmured, rushing to delete the picture. She had been about to send a picture of him to her sister, with the captionthere are more fish in the sea, and you will find the perfect one. And it was the damn guy Carolina had thought she was dating!

What were the freaking odds?

Right before she deleted the picture, a text came through from Lance.

I need closure.

The repeated text pissed her off.

He needed closure?Heneeded it? Fed up with his entitlement, she texted him out of anger.Closure happens on Tuesday. Send.

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