Cash's Fight (The Last Riders #5)

“Reva?” Tate asked, holding the door open. With a regretful glance, she slid into the truck, as well. The brothers then gloated as they pulled out of the parking lot by honking their horn.

“Ignore them, Cash. They’re both drunk off their asses.” Cash gave Mick a skeptical look while holding his ribs, watching as the truck sped off into the night.

The Porter brothers had pissed him off for the last time.

“Come on. I’ll buy you a beer and wrap up those ribs for you,” Mick offered.

Cash followed him back inside.

The Porter brothers would go home and get laid and forget tonight had ever happened, but Cash was determined to repay them for the insults thrown his way. He never looked for trouble; however, if the opportunity ever presented itself to him, he sure as fuck wouldn’t walk away.





Chapter 1


Rachel dug down into the rich soil, her small hand trowel helping her to remove the Ginseng root she had been cultivating. A smile passed her lips when she saw the size of the root; this one would make her some money.

She never fussed at her brothers for their lucrative business of selling pot, but she made more from her medicinal herbs than they did. If the jackasses would listen to reason, she would be able to triple her revenue with their help.

It wasn’t going to happen, though; they refused to listen. Rachel thought they enjoyed the danger and excitement they experienced, growing and selling the illegal crop.

Pushing aside those thoughts, Rachel put the root into the canvas bag she had brought with her then began to delicately dig for another one. The sun was just beginning to rise. She always came out first thing in the morning, after she’d drunk her cup of tea and before the day began to get hot with the summer heat. She had two appointments this morning, and then she was going to volunteer at the church store for a few hours this afternoon.

A sound from behind her had her turning and reaching down for the rifle she kept by her side. Carefully rising to her feet, she pointed the weapon at the man staring nonchalantly back at her.

“What are you doing out here, Cash?”

“Hunting.” His terse explanation had her temper rising.

“You’re trespassing. You’re lucky it’s not one of my brothers you walked up on.”

“It must be my lucky day.”

Cash and her brothers had been having a feud since Cash and Tate had attended high school together. The two men had often found each other in a conflict over a woman. Tate’s grudge had begun when Cash had stolen not one but two of his girlfriends.

“If you’re hunting, then where’s your gun?” Rachel asked suspiciously.

“Never said I was hunting game.” His smile quirked to the side as a feminine giggle sounded from the nearby woods.

Rachel rolled her eyes, lowering her rifle. “Play your games on your own property, Cash.”

About a half mile up the mountain was a lookout point that was the local Lover’s Lane. It wasn’t the first time a couple had moved their games to the nearby woods.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” In other words, he would keep doing what he wanted to do, regardless that he was trespassing.

“Cash!” an impatient voice called.

“Don’t keep the lady waiting,” Rachel mocked. Ignoring him, she kneeled back down and started delicately digging again.

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

Rachel kept digging. She had learned a long time ago it was better for her equilibrium if she didn’t stare at him for long periods of time. His dark-blond hair was slightly curly and always ruffled, as if women were constantly running their hands through it, which they probably were. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to a muscular chest. Lean-hipped, his jeans constantly rode low, drawing attention to the considerable bulge that was hard to miss.

She turned back to him, seeing Cash had crossed his arms over his chest. Rachel swallowed hard at his bulging biceps. He was one of the most sexually charismatic men she knew and totally off-limits because of her brothers’ hatred for him.

“I’m not.” As Rachel blew a faint whistle, a dog lying half-asleep, perched on one of the large rocks, got to his feet, ambling down the mountainside and coming to plop down next to her.

“I can see he’s ferocious.” Rachel ignored the amusement in his voice, reaching over to scratch Samson’s belly.

“Samson and my rifle are the only protection I need.” Rachel returned to her digging.

“Samson.” When Cash took a step forward, a low growl came from her side.

“I wouldn’t come any closer. He doesn’t like it when anyone gets near me.”

“I can see that,” Cash replied, taking a step back. Rachel was glad her back was to him so he couldn’t see her smile.

“Cash!” The feminine voice was coming nearer.

Rachel carefully placed another Ginseng root into her canvas bag, brushing a tendril of hair from her cheek. She then carefully replaced the dirt that had been covering the root, smoothing it out before placing small twigs and leaves on top.