Something I Need (xoxo Nashville Book 1) (6 page)

“Fine!” Cash walked through the door and left her standing outside on the pavement.

Gah! What was she supposed to do now? This was completely ridiculous. He was infuriating. Who locked someone out from getting their stuff? He was a friggin’ immature child.

Yes, yes, pot. Kettle. Black. Whatever.

Jonte plonked herself down against the entrance to the stairwell. Fine, she would just need to sit here and wait for Dolly to get home from work. That was only – Jonte looked down to check her watch. Bugger. It wasn’t even 11 a.m. yet.

C
ash stormed into his office
, slamming the door behind him. Not that Jonte could hear, seeing as she hadn’t followed him in. What an ungrateful little – what the hell was her problem, anyway? She’d been fine and then out of nowhere had stomped out of the truck just now.

She didn’t want his help. Fine. He had shit to do this morning. Bills to pay, orders to place, stock to unpack.

Tanner was wrong. He wasn’t in trouble.

Look, he’d already gotten rid of her!

Cash powered up his Mac, keen to get started, when his cell rang. Dolly. Of course!

“How’s the apartment hunting going?”

“Crap. Tanner couldn’t help.”

“I know. He called me just before.”

“Meddling little –”

“So did you two check Craigslist yet? Is there anything suitable?”

“Not sure.”

“What? You haven’t had a chance yet?”

“Jonte doesn’t want my help.”

“I don’t understand. She went with you to see Tanner. Obviously she wants your help.”

“Apparently not anymore. She refused to come into the bar with me just now.”

“So, where is she?”

“Outside. I –”

“You left her outside? What the hell is wrong with you? You’re an asshole. Go and get her!” Dolly screamed and then hung up.

What the? Why did he have to go and get her? Damn it! He’d already invited her inside. She was the one being petty. Cash kicked the old filing cabinet next to his desk. The action didn’t bring any relief to his warring emotions, so he paced back and forth in the confined space for a good five, maybe ten minutes, pissed at Dolly and Jonte. Eventually he threw his hands up in the air and marched back through the bar and outside.

Shit. Where was she?

Great, just great. She knew no one except for him and Dolly, her phone wasn’t working, and she was probably too naïve for her own damn good.

He spun around in a circle and finally spotted her sitting up against the bricks near the stairwell. If he believed in a God like Nannie did, he would have said a little thank-you prayer right then and there.

“What are you doing?” he asked, walking towards her.

When she didn’t answer, he slid down, taking a seat next to her. Okay, fine. He could be the bigger person. “I’m sorry,” he said and bumped his shoulder against hers.

“Can I please have your key?” she mumbled, her eyes glued to the pavement.

“I really can’t let you walk away like this. Dolly would literally kill me. Plus, it doesn’t feel right. Come into the bar and we’ll find you somewhere to live.”

Before she could reply, his cell rang again.

“Dolly,” he answered.

“Put Jonte on.”

“For you.” He handed Jonte the phone and listened to her half of the conversation, because hey, what else was there to do? Jonte didn’t say much, pretty much just yes and no answers in reply to whatever Dolly was asking. Finally, she handed the phone back to him.

“Check your emails. There are three apartments within a few blocks of the bar. I’ve already made the calls. Go take her to see them now,” Dolly said.

Christ, she was a damn firecracker. How had she done that so quickly?

“Fine. See you later.”

“Play nice,” Dolly sing-songed in her cheeky, know-it-all tone and hung up.

Cash scrolled through his cell and found Dolly’s email. Hell, she’d even listed them in order of appointment time.

“Are you coming?” he asked.

“Apparently.”

Christ, she was cute when she was pissed, all pouty lips and fiery eyes. Cash shook that dangerous thought away and pulled himself up from the pavement. She wasn’t cute, she was a temperamental pain in his ass. He unlocked his truck and opened the passenger door for Jonte. “Just let me lock up the bar.”

Within five minutes, they’d pulled up outside the first place.

“Looks nice enough,” he said.

The red brick building wasn’t anything spectacular, but it seemed to be in good order and clean, which was always a bonus.

Jonte shrugged and got out of the truck. She followed him inside and up the first flight of stairs. They approached apartment 103. Jonte raised her hand, ready to knock on the door when Cash grabbed it.

“What?”

“Listen,” he mouthed and proceeded to chuckle, unable to help himself.

Jonte stopped and listened. He continued to laugh quietly, unsure of how she hadn’t heard it in the first place – the distinct repetitive banging sound emanating from inside the apartment.

“What is…” Jonte’s voice trailed off when muffled screams erupted from inside.

“Yes! Yes! Harder! There, right there.”

“Oh my god,” Jonte breathed and cupped her mouth.

Cash double checked Dolly’s message on his cell. Yep. This was definitely the right place.

“Isn’t she expecting us? How can she be having sex if Dolly just spoke to her?” Jonte whispered.

“Do you really wanna knock and find out?”

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” The female screamed.

Jonte covered her mouth with both hands now and shook her head.

“I don’t think she’s talking to us,” Cash said. “Let’s try the next one.”

The second they stepped out of the building, they doubled over in fits of laughter.

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Definitely weird.” Cash unlocked the truck.

They were both relieved not to hear throes-of-passion noises when they arrived at the second apartment, and even more so when a relatively normal-looking younger woman answered the door.

“Trudy?” Jonte asked.

The woman nodded and opened up the door for them to enter, although she scowled at him when Jonte wasn’t looking.

What the?

Cash did his best to mask his disgust when he got a glimpse of the apartment. To say it was a mess would be the understatement of the century. There were clothes strewn everywhere, coffee cups on every available surface, and food scraps and wrappers littering the floor. He really didn’t want to walk inside, but apparently had no choice, seeing as Jonte had already gone in. The pungent, rotten smell took a few seconds to make its way up his nostrils, and he literally had to stop himself from gagging.

There was no way Jonte was moving in here.

“Cleaning lady on strike?” he joked.

Jonte spun around and shot daggers at him.

“I don’t get it,” the woman replied, straight faced and serious. She led Jonte through the disaster area, and he followed them to a poky room with a tiny window that looked like it had never been opened and seemed to be covered with an inch of grime. “This is the room. I’m not home much as I’m doing grad work, but I have a list of house rules.”

“Such as?’ Jonte asked.

Shit. She couldn’t seriously be considering this?

“Thanks so much. We’ll think about it and get back to you,” Cash interrupted before Trudy could reply, ignoring Jonte’s death stare.

Yes, he was being rude.

No, he didn’t care.

“We? I thought it was just you? No male roommates or visitors. It’s on the list,” Trudy replied.

“You weren’t joking. You seriously have a list of rules?” Cash asked.

“Yes.”

“Like Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory?” said Jonte.

“Oh, I love that show. It’s hilarious,” Cash replied with a genuine chuckle.

“It’s not funny.” The woman’s face was still completely expressionless, her voice devoid of emotion. “Sheldon has to put up with those idiots. He is the voice of reason among those clowns.”

“Thanks so much for your time.” Cash grabbed for Jonte’s hand. He nodded at the door and pulled her out of the apartment.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” Jonte scowled, all cute-little-kitten-thinks-she’s-a-lion like.

He shrugged, turned and descended the stairs, two at a time. “Oh, come on! You could not live there,” he called over his shoulder.

“She was never going to be home anyway. I could have cleaned up while she was out.”

“I bet she had a rule against cleaning.” Cash held open the door for her. “Besides, she was completely ridiculous.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“It’s not mean if it’s true.”

“
T
hird time’s a charm
?” Jonte looked at Cash and then knocked on the door to apartment 269.

A pretty brunette with corkscrew curls opened the door and smiled at them.

“Jonte, right?”

“Yes.” Jonte’s enthusiastic reply carried that determination he’d seen in her the night they’d met.

“I’m Mary-Jayne. Please come in.” Her smile widened and she waited for them to enter before shutting the door behind them. Jonte took in the small apartment and beamed brightly, her whole face lighting up.

Shit. Jonte was right. It was meticulously clean and all homely with a rustic edge; framed vintage music prints decorated the walls, and there was a distressed cream timber dining setting. An overstuffed beige sofa was scattered with mismatched cushions: some blue and yellow striped, others a rainbow of floral prints.

This was it.

This was where Jonte would be sleeping tonight or tomorrow.

She would be gone.

That was good. He pushed aside the concern that had cropped up. Finding her a new home was exactly what he wanted.

Jonte and Mary-Jayne comfortably chit-chatted away. She was already gone and in love with this place. He could tell from the way her eyes had widened when she’d first taken in the room and from the now permanent smile plastered across her face. Jonte followed Mary-Jayne into what would be her bedroom, and he heard her gush about the size and the wonderful color of the walls.

“It’s perfect,” Jonte said, babbling away when the two of them returned to the main living area.

He wasn’t paying attention to what they were actually saying anymore. No, he was distracted by the saxophone on the stand in the corner of the room near the oversized window. This chick was an absolute textbook fit for Jonte.

Jonte bounded towards him and tugged on his arm. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” he replied quietly. “So you’re a musician, too, then?” He turned to Mary-Jayne and gestured at her sax.

“Absolutely.” Mary-Jayne nodded, her curls bobbing up and down. “I have a regular gig on Broadway and I practice all the time.”

“All the time?” he repeated.

“Yeah, I’m a bit of an insomniac.”

Cash couldn’t contain his snicker. “Your landlord and neighbors must love that.”

“No landlord. My parents own the place.”

Jonte’s eyebrows furrowed together. “When you say insomniac –”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get a few hours’ sleep at night.”

“Six or seven?” Jonte asked, clearly hopeful.

Mary-Jayne laughed. “I wish. More like two or three on a good night.”

“Right. Well, I really like the place.” Jonte fidgeted, her hands playing with her tank top as she shifted from side to side.

“Listen, Mary-Jayne, we’ve still got a few more places to visit. How ‘bout Jonte calls you later?” Cash interrupted and headed towards the door.

“Sure thing. It was real nice meeting y’all.”

“You too.” Jonte waved as they left.

Once they were back in the stairwell, she turned on him, the over-confident kitten back. “What is wrong with you? That was by far the best place we’ve seen. And we don’t have any more leads today!”

“Oh, come on, Jonte. Could you seriously survive on two hours’ sleep?” He raised his eyebrows, doubtful.

“I’d adapt!”

“What’s the rush? Just stay with Dolly for a few more nights.” He shrugged, pushed open the door, and walked back outside. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

F
or the second time today
, Jonte was cranky with Cash. What was wrong with him? Where she lived and how much sleep she did or did not get was not his concern. Those were her decisions to make, not his. Ugh. It didn’t matter. She’d get Mary-Jayne’s number from Dolly later.

Even though Jonte was new to the city, she had a feeling they were heading away from the bar and Dolly’s – correction, Cash’s – apartment.

“Where are we going?”

“The ranch.”

“Why?”

“I need to drop my truck off.”

“And how are we getting back to the bar?”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take you back.” He checked the clock on the dash and continued, “I need to be at the bar in a few hours.”

What?

“I thought you were hungry?” she asked.

“I am. That’s why I’m going home.”

Jonte blew out a breath, crossed her arms, and looked out the window.

“Are we back to this again?” Cash chuckled, like he enjoyed getting her all worked up. Maybe he did?

“Apparently,” she huffed and stared out the window.

The truck slowed when it hit the gravel driveway fifteen minutes later. Enormous foliage-dense trees lined the driveway and ran parallel to the dark three-rail fencing that led all the way down to the house. It was very story-bookish – the quintessential American ranch. There was even a huge red and white barn off to the right of the double-story white timber homestead-style house, which of course had a wrap-around porch.

Cash parked the truck in the circular driveway and jumped out. Jonte followed him up the three well-worn wooden steps and into the house.

An assortment of mismatched photos decorated the cream walls, which, truth be told, looked like they could use a coat of paint to freshen them up. There were photos of babies and weddings and graduations – generations of Cash and Dolly’s family all up there on the wall.

“Coming?” he called out and then disappeared through a doorway.

Crap. She’d stopped and was blatantly gawking at the photos. She rushed after him and found herself in the kitchen. Cash was already busy pulling stuff out of the fridge and setting it down on the chunky wood counter top.

“Sandwiches okay?” He peered out from behind the fridge door.

“Sure.” She feigned indifference, shrugging and leaning up against the counter. “What can I do to help?”

“Grab some plates out of the cupboard right there.” He pointed at the cupboards on her right. Jonte bent down and pulled out two dinner plates that had a pink rose pattern painted on them.

Cash chopped tomatoes, lettuce, and cheese. He piled these, together with an assortment of cold meats, up on dark bread and assembled two gigantic sandwiches.

“I can’t eat all this,” Jonte said when he pushed one across to her.

“Eat what you can,” he replied and then wrapped his mouth around his own sandwich.

Cash knocked back his late lunch in no time and then set about making coffee.

“Where are your Nannie and Pop?” Jonte asked in between bites.

“Out,” Cash said with a wry chuckle. “Nannie’s a busy woman. She volunteers everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

“Yeah.” Cash nodded and handed Jonte a coffee. “She does food bank prep and deliveries on weekdays, works in the Thriftsmart on Saturdays, and runs the church choir on Sundays.”

Well, that explained it. Dolly and Cash clearly came from a long line of do-gooders. Jonte looked down at her coffee and noticed it wasn’t black like the one from this morning. No, he’d gone and added cream, and she would bet all the money she had saved up in the bank he’d probably added just the right amount of sugar too.

Cash had already begun cleaning up. Jonte put her coffee down and tried to take over at the sink, but he wouldn’t hear of it. So instead, she grabbed a dishcloth and started wiping down the counter tops.

Once the kitchen was clean, Cash disappeared upstairs to change while Jonte finished her coffee. He reemerged wearing a black T-shirt with the bar’s logo on it and a darker pair of jeans.

“Put this on, will ya.” He threw a black leather jacket down on the counter next to her.

Jonte eyed the jacket and shook her head. His craziness for the day had hit a new all-time high. “It’s way too hot for that.”

“Look, I can’t do anything about your ridiculous shorts or flip-flops. I should have said something before we left Dolly’s. But I’m not letting you on my bike without you wearing that.”

Bike? Of course he had a bike! And obviously that was how they were getting back to the bar.

* * *

C
ash loved
the feel of Jonte’s arms wrapped around his waist as they sped back towards Nashville. Christ, this whole fucking day was insane. He was over the bazillion emotions that had bombarded him since he’d set foot in the apartment this morning.

He’d woken up ready to get her out of their lives. But now he was actively keeping her in it by flat out refusing to let her go live with that insomniac, and oh so casually suggesting that she spend more time at Dolly’s. Although really, he was doing her a favor, because no matter how nice the apartment, who could seriously live with incessant saxophone playing?

No one. That’s who!

Part way through the drive, Cash decided he should just take Jonte to Dolly’s tattoo studio. It was only a few blocks away from the bar and the pair seemed to have bonded last night. Maybe Dolly could help convince Jonte that she couldn’t live with that Mary-Jayne zombie?

Cash pulled the bike up outside of Dolly’s shop. He was quick to remove his helmet and spin around to help Jonte with hers.

“Where are we?” she mumbled, flipping the visor up.

“Dolly’s work.” He helped to unfasten the neck strap on her helmet.

“Dolly works at
this
tattoo parlor?” Jonte asked with a dubious stare and cock of her head.

“Dolly owns this tattoo studio,” he corrected and assisted her off the bike.

“Of course she does.” Jonte scooted away from him. “And why are we here?”

“I thought we should give her a rundown on today’s progress.” Cash took a few steps towards the door. “You coming?”

“Apparently.”

Cash held the door open for Jonte. Little Miss Drama certainly seemed to get all snarky at the weirdest things. He smiled at Stacey, the eighteen-year-old with a face full of piercings behind the counter. Stacey told them Dolly had just finished up with a client and was free. Cash led Jonte all the way back to the tea room at the rear of the building where there was a barely functional kitchen area filled with a tiny round table setting and four chairs.

“Hi.” Dolly looked up from the cell phone she’d been tapping away on and smiled. “Didn’t expect to see y’all right now. How’d the apartment hunting go?”

“No luck.” Cash grunted and made a bee-line for the kettle. He’d love a beer to take the edge off right about now, but had to start work soon himself, and he didn’t think it was a good look for a bartender to drink during a shift.

“That’s a shame.” Dolly sighed and tucked her cell into her jeans pocket.

“Can I have Mary-Jayne’s phone number please, Dolly? Her place was nice and –”

“She’s a fucking insomniac that plays the saxophone all damn night! How many times do we need to go over this?”

“I need somewhere to stay.” Jonte glared back at him, her hands now poised on her hips.

“And I already said you should just stay at Dolly’s for a bit longer. You don’t mind, do you, Doll?” He looked to his twin for support, but Jonte was too quick to reply.

“Jeez, Cash, I need to get myself settled.” She threw her arms up in the air. “I can’t sleep on a damn pull-out, as comfortable as it is, Dolly. I need a place to live permanently and a job.”

“You need a job? Come work for me.”

Fuck. What the hell was he saying now?

He’d promised himself earlier he wasn’t going to go there and yet now the words were flying out of his mouth.

“I can’t work for you.”

“Why not? You need a job. It’s summer and I need casual staff.”

“He does normally put on extra staff in summer,” Dolly agreed.

“Fine, I’ll consider the whole job thing. But the point remains, I can’t live permanently on a pull-out. Even if I could, I couldn’t impose on you like that, Dolly.”

“So the places you saw today really were no good?” Dolly asked, looking back and forth between the two of them like she was watching a ping pong match.

“No,” Cash replied at the same time Jonte said, “Admittedly, they weren’t too great.”

“Damn.” Dolly shook her head. “The ads looked so promising. That really is a shame.”

“I’m so sorry, Dolly. The last thing you need is some crazy Aussie chick taking over your place.”

“You’re right.” Dolly nodded, her face serious, her eyebrows drawn tightly together. “You really can’t sleep on my sofa forever.”

“See.” Jonte shot him an I’m-right-you’re-wrong smirk.

“But I do have another idea.” Dolly’s grin was ginormous. If a grin could gloat, that’s exactly what hers was doing.

“Please, enlighten us, Doll,” Cash said with a huff.

“Well, we could clear out all the crap in my spare room and Jonte could move in there.”

“Yes,” Cash said as Jonte shook her head.

“I can’t just move in with you,” Jonte said.

“Why not, darlin’?”

“Because…” Jonte started, her voice trailing off.

Cash bit his tongue and tried not to smirk as she tried to come up with a valid argument.

“Great. So it’s settled. You’re staying with me.”

“I’m staying with you,” Jonte repeated.

“Yep. We’ll give it a trial, and if you don’t like living with me, or things get weird, you can find somewhere else to live.” Dolly beamed brighter than he’d seen in forever.

Weird
? Cash knew his twin wasn’t exactly normal, but she was nowhere even close to being in the same stratosphere as that crazy Trudy chick from this morning.

“Okay. But it’s just a trial and you can kick me out at any time,” Jonte said, sounding a little more certain now.

“You got it,” Dolly said.

Jonte was staying. He had no idea what that meant for the three of them, but right now he was pleased she wasn’t leaving just yet.