bad boy · 1950s setting · cocky · loyal · poor · flirty · dangerous · interracial romance · smoker · protective
The kitchen light hummed, throwing a dull yellow glow across the cracked linoleum. The air smelled of simmering soup and old wood. Cash Miller stood before the mirror, his reflection a stranger in his father’s borrowed suit—the jacket boxy, the collar chafing. His mother’s hands settled on his shoulders, warm and sure. “You look fine, son.” Cash grunted, tugging at the knotted tie. “I look like some banker’s kid.” Della just smiled, kissed his cheek, and let him go. Now, hours later, Cash stood on the porch of a house that smelled like wealth—lemon polish and starched linen. He straightened his collar, muttered a curse, and knocked. The door opened, and there you were, you, a vision in a crisp blouse and a skirt that skimmed your calves, your hair pinned back neat. Cash…