Cash (Sexy Bastard #2) by Eve Jagger Read Free Book Online Page A

home…”
he croons, in that soulful twang of his.
    My eyes are stinging, and I look away.
I hate that he’s affecting me like this. Dopey love songs are a
staple for country music, just like the love of God and the USA.
They’re a dime a dozen. He probably has a million of them. But
hearing him sing still hurts.
    This is not just some regular run of
the mill nightmare; this is a Dante’s lowest layer of hell
nightmare. The room shrinks, and I can’t escape the panic
that’s clawing at my stomach.
    I can get through this, I tell myself.
This means nothing. How long can one song be? Not long enough to kill
me—that’s about the only good news I have. But Tanner
sings the chorus directly to me.
    “She always felt like coming
home.”
    He used that line. On
me . He said being with me felt like coming home. And now
he’s singing it, in this room full of people. Bastard.
    I can’t be in the same room with
him. I can’t meet his baby blue eyes and not feel what I did.
If I am going to make it through the rest of this night, I can’t
listen to this song. Not when I know exactly where it comes from.
    I push through the mesmerized crowd.
Yes, it’s quite possible that Tanner Jakes will be the next big
thing in country music, but I won’t be the one going over his
contracts.
    People give me nasty looks when I bump
them aside. I don’t care. It’s self-preservation. Either
I get through, or they are going to witness my complete breakdown.
    I’m going to be sick all over
this floor if I don’t get out of here right now.
    “It’s so
romantic,” a redheaded on my left sighs. I want to slug
her. It’s not romantic if you know he wrote it about a woman
with whom he cheated on his wife. Then it’s
just disgusting.
    And then I realize I can’t leave right now, because then I’d be locked into my job until I
quit. I need this promotion, and sneaking out of this event would be
my one-way ticket straight into a permanent career slump. Instead of
feeling like some traumatized Cinderella, I decide to act like an
adult and lock myself in the bathroom. I’m going to get through
this.
    I lean against the door and will my
stomach back under control.
    Screw everything. Twice.
    His voice leaks through the door, and I
give in to what’s been plaguing my dreams and hanging around
during all my waking hours.
    It was the best time of my life—or
so I thought. I’d been seeing Tanner for six months or so. We’d
met when I took a business trip to Nashville. He was the new kid on
the block, just signed an agent—hadn’t even met Mathias
or Triton yet. He built his audience all over the South, and when he
couldn’t be in Atlanta with me, we’d spend long hours on
emotional phone calls that made me ache just thinking about them.
    The trip was his idea. Spur of the
moment, which was always his way. His world was controlled chaos and
I was happy to get swept up in it. The moments we had were brief and
we made the most of them.
    That weekend, Tanner had found a house
on the Georgia coast. It was steps away from the beach, not that we
made it out there much. He surprised me at work with a bag, whisking
me away before I could even protest. It was a work-free weekend. A
chance to throw caution to the wind.
    Rob had been in on the whole plan,
since he thought I could do with a bit of excitement in my life. Me,
miss straight-laced and tightly-planned, running off for a
spontaneous romantic weekend.
    The long days blended into nights with
seamless ease. He played me songs on his guitar, working through the
kinks in his latest track. It was going to be his big hit. The one
that would send him straight to the top of the charts and dominate
the airwaves, making him a household name.
    I’d curled up on the bed, in one
of his discarded t-shirts, content to bask in his exuberance. But
this song was giving him trouble.
    “Speeding down that old dirt road
out running….driving straight…” he’d
stopped. Tried, and failed again.
    “Driving