Forgiving Lies (8 page)

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Rachel Masters, from far West Texas.”

God, she was cute. I grabbed her hand and tried to ignore the warmth coming from her body and how I wanted to lean into her, press my mouth to her neck, and breathe in the sweet scent coming from her. “Logan . . . Hendricks, from far East Texas. But you can call me Kash. It’s good to meet you, Rachel.”

“You too, Kash with a
K
.”

“You know, my apartment is pretty bare.”

“That’s an understatement,” she whispered on a laugh as she sat back and put her seat belt on. “I happen to be locked out of my apartment and have nothing to do today . . .”

“You want to help me pick out new furniture?”

“Took you long enough to ask me!”

I smiled and threw my truck in reverse. “Smart-ass.”

“S
O TELL ME
honestly.”

I glanced over at Rachel, who was lying down beside me, and raised an eyebrow.

“Can you feel it, Kash?” Her eyes widened and she slapped down on the mattress. “Can you
feel
the difference this mattress makes?”

The saleswoman kept rambling on about the statistics of this bed and I tried not to laugh as Rachel acted as if what she was saying was from the Bible.

“Isn’t this one just great?” The woman leaned over the bed to look at us. Her drawl was so thick that her
great
sounded more like
gright
.

“Feels just like a cloud, you were so right!” Rachel smiled sweetly at her.

“Oh, I
knew
y’all would just love this one! But c’mon over to the other side of the store, I have a few more to show you. And they just blow this one right out of the water,” she said, and walked away to the next set of mattresses.

Rachel swung her legs over to the side and looked back at me, that same sweet smile plastered on her face. “It feels exactly like the last six except it’s an extra two thousand dollars. So that just makes it so much better!” She scrunched up her nose on the last few words and smacked her hand down on the mattress again.

I rolled off the mattress and pulled her with me as I followed the saleswoman. “You look like a Miss America contestant on shrooms,” I whispered to Rachel, and she snorted.

She began waving at no one in particular like she was in a pageant, and her smile widened. “In case you’re wondering, the snozberries
do
taste like snozberries.”

“Oh, I thought y’all were right behind me!” The saleswoman had stopped and turned to face us a good twenty feet ahead. “Well c’mon, you two, you’re gonna love this next one!”

I groaned and Rachel’s fake smile faltered. “Since when does
me
sound like
maaayyy
?” I asked quietly when she began walking again.

“She reminds me of Dolly Parton. She has got to go.”

I barked out a laugh and tried not to picture the saleswoman as a Dolly clone.

Three beds and four couches later and I thought I was going to strangle the Dolly impersonator. And we still weren’t done with this store. How had I gone day in and day out with drugged-out scum and hookers and not clawed my eyes out, but an hour with this woman had me wanting nothing more than to take off running out of the store while screaming at Rachel that it was every man for himself?

I swear, if it weren’t for Rachel and her smart-ass comments, I would have been hiding underneath one of the beds. But even Rachel was starting to look worn out. Her fake smiles were a little less Barbie and a little more ermahgerd, and she looked ready to pass out on the couch I’d just gotten up from.

“Hmm.” Dolly 2.0 tapped her chin and turned to look around her. “Ah! I got the perfect set over here!”

“That’s it,” Rachel whispered, a horrified look on her beautiful face. “This is where I die. In a furniture store the size of freakin’ Costco!” She shuffled off after the saleswoman and I quickly caught up to her side. When I got there, her psychotic-Barbie look was back. “Did you know the leather couches we’re about to look at have a warranty for ten years? No cracks!”

“Oh, well in that case, I have to buy these. Right?”

“Of course.” She got oddly silent as we followed along and out of nowhere started dancing all crazy and lip-syncing to the song playing throughout the store.

I stopped, my eyes going wide as I watched her. As soon as the chorus ended she stopped, and just in time, since our saleswoman had turned to see why we weren’t with her.

“Y’all coming?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Rachel answered since I was still looking at her with my jaw dropped. Her serene expression began cracking and she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing. Glancing over at me, she gave me a soft nudge and winked before walking over to the next living room set, leaving me staring after her before I burst out laughing.

Damn, I’m pretty sure I just fell in love with Rachel Masters.

R
ACHEL FLOPPED DOWN
onto the love seat and I stretched out on the couch with a groan. How do women like full days of shopping? This shit was exhausting. After we had finished at the furniture store, we’d gone to pick out lamps and other things Rachel deemed necessary before heading to the grocery store; I was ready to crash and not wake up until I needed to be at the department on Monday. But then all the furniture had arrived and we’d started “decorating.”

“You’re insane, woman.”

She grunted some form of agreement. “But you’re finished. You’re fully moved in.”

“I’m gonna kill Mason for not helping.”

“Yeah, well . . . I’m used to this by now.”

I rolled over so I could look at her. God, this girl was all long, tan legs. Thank God she’d still been in her pajamas when they locked her out. I’d had the best view all day. “Used to helping random guys pick out everything for their apartment?”

She laughed softly and rolled her head like she was trying to relieve the tension in her neck. I wanted to help with that, but I was pretty sure friends didn’t do that. Or if they did they didn’t think about following it by tracing the curve of her neck with their mouth. “No, I mean I’m used to being kicked out. I thought it would be different once we got our apartment, since I could just go into my room. But she still fully kicks me out whenever she’s hooking up with someone.”

My brow wrinkled. “You’re serious?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you get kicked out a lot?” She didn’t answer; she just turned to look at me with raised eyebrows.
I’ll take that as a yes.
“Where do you go?”

“I’ve become really close with the baristas at one of the twenty-four-hour Starbucks.”

What in the actual fuck? And Candice was supposed to be her best friend? She and Mason had been locked in the apartment for almost twelve hours. “And do you do the same?”

Judging by her wide blue eyes, my gruff tone surprised both of us. I hadn’t meant to ask. I didn’t really want to know if Rachel was like Candice, but something in me needed to know. From Candice’s drunk rambling the night before, I knew Rachel was single, but that didn’t mean a whole hell of a lot.

“I’m sorry . . . what?”

I tried to smirk at her, but I’m positive it came off as more of a scowl. “Do you kick Candice out too?”

She fidgeted and broke eye contact with me. “There’s never a need to.”

Never as in she’s never? Or never as in—not in a while?
Before I could say anything else, she sat up and cleared her throat.

“Tell me, Kash. What is it you and Mason do?”

And so it begins.
I got comfortable and flashed her a lazy smile. “We just got here yesterday. You gonna give us some time to try and find something?”

“How old are you?”

“Are we playing twenty questions now, sweetheart?”

Her eyes narrowed and she continued to stare at me.

“I’m twenty-five. You?”

“Twenty-one.” She shook her head dismissively. “But that’s beside the point. You’re twenty-five, and I’m guessing Mason is around the same age?” When I nodded she continued. “And sorry for being nosy, but since I happened to be with you all day, I also saw how much you spent on setting up your new apartment. I know you didn’t move here for a job, but I figured if you have that much just to blow on furniture and such, you must’ve had a pretty cushy job in Bullshit, Texas.”

“
Cushy
is about the exact opposite of what we had. As for the money? We have rich parents.” Well, technically that was true. But still, I hadn’t lived off my parents’ money since I was seventeen. “And you really have an issue with where I’m from, don’t you?”

“I don’t like liars.”

“So now I’m lying? Why is it so hard to believe I’m from East Texas? Maybe I just don’t want you to know which town because I like to keep my life private.”

“Maybe because you don’t sound like you’re from Texas.” She shrugged, but her stare was still full of a challenge. “Like, at all. Neither does Mason.”

“So, you’re saying . . .” I rolled off the couch and took the few steps toward her. If she wanted me to sound like I was from Texas, then I was about to sound like I was from motherfucking Texas. “. . . if I had a drawl, you’d believe me?” Her breath hitched when I leaned over her body and put my hands on the couch on either side of her head. Our faces were just inches apart and I swear I almost groaned when she quickly licked her lips. Leaning in so my lips brushed her ear, I spoke soft and low. And yeah, with a fucking drawl. “Just say the word, darlin’. I’ll talk however you want me to.”

Rachel shivered beneath me and I’m almost positive I stopped breathing for a few seconds. Her cheek brushed against mine as she turned into me, and I moved so our lips were centimeters apart. Her blue eyes were hooded as they searched mine, and I took the rapid rise and fall of her chest as a sign that she wanted this just as much as I did. My nose brushed hers and as I leaned closer to press my lips to hers, the door burst open and Rachel’s hands shot out to push against my chest.

“Oh, well if I wasn’t gone long enough, I can come back.” Mason laughed loudly and Rachel slipped out from under my arm and took off for the door. Without a glance at either of us, she rushed out and over to her own apartment. “Jesus, Kash. You kiss that bad?”

I was still leaning against the couch. My eyes had been wide with confusion but were now narrowed at Mason’s words. “Shut up, man. I didn’t even touch her.”

“Well you did something. She took off like she couldn’t get away from you fast enough.”

“I said shut the fuck up,” I growled, and sank back onto the couch I’d originally been on. What the hell had just happened? She had turned her head toward me, she’d wanted
something;
the look in her eyes had said it all.

Even with the friends-only talk we’d had that morning, something had changed between us as the day had gone on. Yeah, the shopping had been exhausting, but doing it with Rachel had made it entertaining. Her shield had been gone, and the girl underneath it was nothing less than incredible. She was still a smart-ass, but she was funny and sweet. And sexy—God, she was so damn sexy, and I was positive she didn’t have a clue. More than anything, Rachel didn’t try to impress me. She was who she was and didn’t care how that came across to others.

I’d been thinking there was no way I could go day in and day out with this girl and not have her be mine. But after what had just happened, I was pretty sure I’d caused her shield to go back up.

“Wow, you guys did a great job today.” Mason’s words broke through my thoughts and I looked around the living room.

“Yeah, no thanks to you.”

“I trusted you to get good shit. And this TV . . . mmm. Sixty-inch? I’m so proud. I’ve taught you well.”

I rolled my eyes. “You really thought I’d get a shitty TV? Do you not know me at all?”

He shrugged and clapped his hands together once. “Well, since there’s nothing for me to do here”—I narrowed my eyes at him—“we’re gonna have pizza with the girls. So let’s go.”

“Rach and I went and got food today, we can make something for all of us.”

“Aww, you guys went grocery shopping too? So cute.”

I threw a pillow at him; he caught it easily and launched it back at me.

“I already ordered the pizza. Let’s go.”

“I’ll meet you over there. I need a shower.”
A very
cold
shower.

5

Rachel

D
RAINING THE REST
of my lukewarm tea, I rinsed out the mug and was about to put it in the dishwasher when there was a knock on the door. I quickly thought about the day and looked over at the clock on the microwave. Was it sad that this was only the third Thursday since we’d moved in, and I already knew it would be Mrs. Adams? I set the mug down and made my way over to the door. When I opened it I saw a frazzled-looking Mrs. Adams standing there worrying her hands.

“Oh, Rachel dear! Thank heavens you’re here! All my babies, they’re gone. I need your help finding them, please come help me!” Without another word directed toward me, she began calling for Snickers and searching for her cats.

Mrs. Adams was the definition of a
crazy
cat lady. She was in her seventies, her husband had died ten years ago—as I’d come to find out from the son who brought her groceries three times a week and had seen me helping her the previous week—and she had absolutely no cats. She just
thought
she had them. When in reality, all of her cats were a bunch of stuffed animals, or pillows and blankets with pictures of cute little fur-balls on them. I never saw her unless it was a Thursday, and the first time she’d told me all her cats had escaped, I’d felt bad for the poor woman. That is, until I finally got an emotional Mrs. Adams back into her apartment and she began clinging to her stuffed animals, begging them never to leave her again. I’d left quickly after that, and when she’d shown up crying at half past eight again last week, claiming all her cats had run away again, I’d decided she needed someone to believe her for her five minutes of weekly crazy.

Like the previous two weeks, it was eight thirty on the dot, and this week we were searching for all her babies, but mainly Snickers. I followed behind her calling for the mischievous Snickers, and as she’d point under things, I’d fall to the ground and act like I was searching really hard for a cat I knew I’d never find.

“Oh, oh! Up there, what if they’re up there? I’m positive Mr. Snickers would have led them up there.”

So Snickers is a he? Good to know; that will help in the missing-cat search.
I ran up the stairs to the second floor and continued to call out for the cats before making my way back downstairs to lead Mrs. Adams into the apartment directly to the left of ours.

“You know what, Mrs. Adams? I’m pretty sure I saw Snickers lead all the kittens into your apartment!”

“Oh, oh yes, I’m sure that’s what he’s done. He must have, those poor dears must’ve been so worried following him around—” She broke off suddenly when we made it into her apartment and let out a little shriek before shuffle-running over to one of her pillows and hugging it close to her chest. “My babies are back! Mama missed you, don’t ever leave me again!”

“Do you need anything else, Mrs. Adams?”

She turned and it broke my heart that her eyes were full of tears. How could her son leave her in an apartment alone like this? She needed someone with her all the time. “No, dear. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I just smiled and walked out of her wide-open front door, and right into a nicely muscled chest.

“Jesus, Kash!”

“What are you doing?”

“What are
you
doing? Why are you just standing out here like a creeper?”

He smirked and followed me over to my apartment. “I’m trying to figure out why you’re army-crawling all over the breezeway and shouting for a candy bar.”

“I’m not shouting for a candy bar, I’m looking for a cat that isn’t there.”

One of his thick eyebrows rose and he bit down on his lip ring to try to hide his smile as he held my door open for us.

“Mrs. Adams . . . isn’t exactly all there. She thinks she has cats and she doesn’t. And every Thursday since we moved in, she’s come knocking at eight thirty asking for me to help her look for them.”

“And you help her, knowing they aren’t there?”

“Well, I didn’t know the first time until I got into her apartment. Her cats are really stuffed animals and pillows.”

“But you helped her every other time knowing what you know?” He’d stopped biting on that ring and his lips kept tilting up as he tried to control his smile.

“Yeah, Kash, I did. Because no one else does, and don’t laugh at me! It’s not funny, I feel really bad for her! You should see how upset she gets over this.”

I turned to walk into my room, but he caught me around my waist and hauled my body back to his. “I’m not laughing at you, Rach,” he mumbled huskily, and his gray eyes roamed my face. “I think it’s adorable that you help her. You’re really just a big softy, aren’t you?” Laughing when I growled at him, he continued to piss me off even more. “You’re like Sour Patch Kids candy.”

“What the hell?”

“Sour . . . then sweet.”

“I will castrate you if you don’t let me go right now.” My eyes narrowed and he lost his fight as he grinned widely at me and kept me in his arms. When I realized he wasn’t letting go, I sighed as I gave in. “Look, it breaks my heart. She shouldn’t be there by herself. Her son drops off food three times a week and he’s only here for about twenty minutes or so each time. She needs someone with her all the time. Instead she’s just—she’s alone. I hate that for her.”

Kash’s face softened and his hold on me got a little tighter. My heart picked up its pace and I blinked quickly as I looked away and pushed out of his strong grip.

“Do you want breakfast?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Clearing his throat, he looked behind him, toward the kitchen. “What are you gonna make me, woman?”

I snorted. “When you call me that, I literally just want to give you a bowl of cereal.” But even as I said the words, I pulled the sausage out of the fridge and grabbed the pancake mix.

“You know you like it.” I jumped when his voice came from directly behind me. He took the food out of my hands and put it on the counter before grabbing the skillet out of the cupboard. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t keep cooking for me.”

Rolling my eyes, I tried to act like his voice and nearness didn’t have any kind of effect on me. But I’m sure I wasn’t succeeding. I was positive he could hear the way my heart was pounding, the way my breaths were coming far too quickly, and see the goose bumps covering my arms.

We worked quickly and easily together in the kitchen, and soon my body relaxed as I remembered we could only be friends and we slipped into the comfortable banter Kash and I had shared over the last week.

Just as we were finishing up and I was grabbing plates out of the cabinet, Mason walked in without knocking and announced, “Kash, we gotta go.”

“Breakfast,” was his only reply.

“Nope, now.”

I set down the plates just in time to be picked up in one of Mason’s bear hugs, and he kissed the top of my head as he set me down. “You want breakfast, Mase?” I asked.

“Thanks, sweetheart, but we need to get going.” He picked a piece of sausage out of the pile of paper towels and shoved it in his mouth.

“Dude, we just finished making this. Let me—”

“Kash.” They shared a look for a moment. “We need to go work out.”

Kash’s eyes widened and he glanced over at me. “Rach, I’m sorry, I forgot today was Thursday. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

Before I could respond, they were both walking out the door, and I was left there with enough breakfast to feed five of me.

“C
ANDICE, ARE YOU
serious? I’ve been kicked out twice this week already. I don’t feel like going to Starbucks again tonight.”

“No one said you had to go to Starbucks every time I have someone over.”

“Well where else am I supposed to go?”

She dropped her towel and began putting on pink lingerie. Why she even bothered with the lingerie, I had no idea. “You could go hang out with, oh, I don’t know, Kash. Especially tonight. He’ll be lonely.” She winked.

“It’s not Kash’s job to babysit me when you decide you need to get some. And Mason . . . again? Really?”

“Ohmigod. Rach, he’s incredible. He does this thing—”

“I don’t want to know!” I shouted, and slammed my hands over my ears. “Mason is like Eli to me.”

She made a face and shuddered.

Since the past weekend, I’d spent most of my time with Mason and Kash. They were usually home during the day while Candice was at cheer camp, and on Tuesday Kash had begun bartending at a bar/restaurant near campus. Mason had gotten the same position at a different bar downtown the next day. I was surprised they found work so quickly, but I guessed when you looked like them, it wasn’t hard to find jobs.

I was happy for them. They were both only part-time, but it was something for now, Kash said, and they seemed happy about it. Throughout the almost-week with them, Mason had quickly taken on the role of the big brother I’d never wanted. But honestly, I loved the guy. His cousin, on the other hand . . . I wished I could view him the way I saw Mason, but every thought I had about Kash Hendricks was anything but sisterly. And while I knew we needed to remain friends, it was a near-constant struggle to get my body and heart to understand that too.

Mason walked into the apartment without knocking, as was becoming his usual routine, and I rolled off Candice’s bed and went to grab my purse, phone, and keys. Mason grabbed me in another big hug and kissed my head. “Kash isn’t working tonight.”

I grumbled to myself and started picking everything up off the entryway table. “Just call me when I’m allowed back in.” I’d barely stepped outside when they shut the door and locked it behind me. “Rude.”

Taking a few steps toward the parking lot, I paused and shifted my weight a few times as I looked at the guys’ door. With a deep breath, I gritted my teeth and walked quickly over to the door before knocking on it. Kash opened it after a moment in nothing but a pair of low-slung jeans and my mouth went dry.

“Rach.” He laughed low and my eyes snapped up to his. “What’s up?”

“Oh, um . . .”
This was a really bad idea. Would I look like a complete freak if I took off running for my car right now?
“Well, I . . .”

“Yes . . . ?”

“You, uh, wanna have a lock-out night with me?”

He mouthed the words
lock-out night
before recognition flashed through his gray eyes. “Mason with Candice?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t have to ask or have a reason, Rach. You’re welcome here whenever.”

My eyes drifted over the colorful artwork covering his shoulders and arms and I somehow made it into the apartment without running into anything. I wanted to study the tattoos but he was still smirking, so I forced my eyes onto the TV and walked past him.

“So did you get tired of hanging out at Starbucks for hours on end, or did they finally kick you out?”

I huffed and shook my head.
Such an ass
. Spinning around, I began walking right back to the front door.
I don’t care that he’s half-naked and I have to use superhuman strength to not throw myself at him and explore his sculpted body with my hands and mouth. He’s just such a freaking pain.

“I don’t think so, Sour Patch.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me back until I was standing in front of the couch. “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sit down, woman. I’ll be right back.” With a shove strong enough to send me down to the couch, he smiled wryly and turned toward his bedroom.

“Put a shirt on while you’re in there!”

He snorted.

Kash

H
ELL NO
, I’
M
not putting a shirt on.
She could act all she wanted. There was no mistaking that she was, at the very least, attracted to me. Her cheeks would flush whenever her eyes trailed over me, completely giving her away.

No need to make it easy for her by covering up.

Looking over my shoulder to make sure she was still on the couch, I shut my door and grabbed at my things. We’d
just
gotten back from being at the department for last-minute meetings all day, and my gun, holster, badge, and card to get into the department were all sitting on the bed. I walked quickly into the closet and put everything but my gun on the top shelf, where even I couldn’t see them, before going back and putting my gun in the nightstand. After taking one more look around to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, I walked back out to the living room.

Rachel’s brow furrowed for a minute when she saw me, but not two seconds later, a blush stained her cheeks. Quickly averting her eyes, she looked back at the TV and continued scrolling through the guide. When she gasped, I rushed toward her, but she just looked up at me with the widest grin before pressing more buttons on the remote.

“Wait. Do you already have this movie?”

“
The A-Team
? No.”

With a disappointed shake of her head, she hit
record
and clicked on the channel as the credits ran from the previous movie. “You’re not allowed to delete this recording then.”

I flopped down next to her on the love seat rather than going to the couch and tried not to smile when she inched away. “I’m guessing it’s a good movie?”

She did a quick double take when my words finally clicked. “Are you— Wait. You’re joking, right? You . . . you have to have seen this. You’re a guy!”

“And?”

“Oh my word. You really haven’t seen this? I’m pretty sure that’s like . . . a sin. Or against the law, at the very least. This movie is amazing.” She jumped off the couch and went over to browse through our Blu-ray collection, and when she turned back around to join me on the love seat, her face was full of pity. “It’s okay, Kash. I’ll educate you.”

Rachel set about looking up movies on the guide and setting them to record whenever they were coming on next. Some I’d seen previews for during commercials and looked funny. Some I shook my head at when she hit the
record
button. Others were just not okay.

“Hell. No. I’m not going to watch a movie called
Bridesmaids.
”

“Um, actually, you will, and I’ll bet you one hundred dollars right now that you’ll willingly watch it more than once.”