Feeling Hot (9 page)

She choked out a giggle. “Inner crazy. I like it.”

His reassurance bolstered her spirits, as did the lack of pity on his face. She hated being pitied, which happened a lot in her family. Each time she failed at a job or admitted she hadn’t found her life’s direction yet, her parents stared at her with those big pitying eyes and made her feel like an even bigger failure.

They reached Cash’s building a few minutes later and hopped out of the car. Jen glanced up at the cloudless blue sky and let the sun’s rays heat her face, enjoying the balmy breeze that lifted her ponytail and tickled the nape of her neck. The one good thing about getting fired was that she didn’t have to spend the afternoon indoors, stuck behind a jewelry counter. But she knew that if she wanted to keep her apartment—and her independence—she’d have to start combing the job ads and find work ASAP.

“Let’s sit by the pool,” she suggested. “I’m not ready to go in yet.”

“Sure, but we should probably take this upstairs first.” He held up the gallon of ice cream that had been sitting in the backseat.

They quickly headed up to the apartment to shove the ice cream in the freezer, then went outside again, rounding the side of the building and emerging onto the manicured grass in the back. The rectangular pool sat in the center of the sprawling lawn, surrounded by a concrete deck offering white lounge chairs and tables topped with red-and-blue umbrellas. Despite the great weather, the pool was devoid of swimmers, and Jen and Cash had the area to themselves as they approached the deck.

“You look relieved not to be going inside,” she remarked.

His midnight blue eyes became veiled. “I like the outdoors. And it’s a nice day.”

She fought laughter. “Know what I think? I think you’re worried that if we’re inside, in close quarters, your trusty discipline might fail you.”

He mumbled something unintelligible.

When they reached the deck, she kicked off her flip-flops and rolled up the bottom of her jeans, then sat by the ladder next to the deep end and shoved her bare feet in the water. Cash did the same, leaving his sneakers on the grass as he joined her.

“Why don’t you have any platonic female friends?” she asked, tilting her head toward him.

“I’ve always been more of a guy’s guy.” He shrugged in a seriously adorable way. “Talking to women isn’t my strong suit.”

She grinned. “So you can hit on women but you can’t talk to them?”

Adorable shrug number two. “Everything leading up to sex is easy. During sex is a piece of cake too. Everything after sex? It’s like walking through a minefield. I mean, why can’t I just tell you that a certain outfit looks trashy? Or that
Grey’s Anatomy
sucks? Why do I have to recite a whole bunch of little white lies and play all those games?”

“I hate games,” she agreed. “Say what you mean, mean what you say. That’s how I roll.”

“Good to know, homie.”

Jen laughed. “Look at you, you’re doing just fine talking to me. Honest, cute, joking.” She raised her eyebrows. “Or is it easy for you because this is all leading up to sex?”

He scowled. “We’re not going to have sex.”

“Right, because you took an oath. Hey, did Carson make you sign the oath in blood?” When his scowl deepened, she simply laughed again. “Fine, I’ll stop. Let’s keep doing the friend thing.” She paused in thought. “So what’s up with the name Cash?”

He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what made your parents decide to name you after money?”

“Can we change the subject?”

She furrowed her brows. “Wait, you mean there’s actually a story behind your name? I was just passive-aggressively making fun of you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Her curiosity piqued. “I want to hear the story.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Don’t bat your eyelashes at me like that. That move might work on other guys, but—oh, Jesus, are you crying? Damn it. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just stop crying.”

She blinked rapidly to clear the moisture in her eyes and offered a broad smile. “Great, can’t wait to hear it.”

Cash looked betrayed. “Those were fake tears?”

“I can cry on command,” she confessed. “Used to work wonders when I was a kid, but once my family caught on, the trick ended up backfiring. Like when I was fourteen, I took gymnastics—yet another pointless activity I absolutely sucked at—and I broke my arm falling off the uneven bars during a meet. My parents saw the tears and thought I was faking. It took thirty minutes, while I was in excruciating pain, mind you, to convince them I was truly injured.”

Cash threw his head back and laughed. “I’m not sure I even feel bad for you. It’s not cool, manipulating people like that.”

“Duh. That’s why I don’t do it anymore.”

“You just did,” he shot back.

Crap, right. “Because you were being difficult,” she said defensively. “I want to know about your name.”

“Fine, but no passive-aggressive commentary.”

“Deal.”

He leaned on his elbows and tipped his head up to the sky. The pose was casual, but hot as hell. His biceps bulged in the most delectable way. The tilt of his head revealed the strong tendons of his throat and the stubble shadowing his square jaw. Why hadn’t she noticed he had a tiny cleft in his chin? Gosh, she wanted to lick that spot with her tongue. And then lick the masculine curve of his jaw. And that hard chest and mouthwatering six-pack. And—okay, she pretty much wanted to lick every inch of Cash McCoy’s body.

Dragging her mind out of the gutter, she mimicked his pose and fell back on her elbows. “I’m waiting…”

He shifted his gaze to her face. “Short version? My parents found out they won the lottery five minutes before my mom was about to have an abortion.”

Jen’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.” A self-deprecating smile lifted his mouth. “Fetus-me was gonna be aborted, even though my parents constantly assure me that they loved me and were devastated that they couldn’t keep me.”

“Why couldn’t they?”

“Mom was sixteen, Dad was two years older. They both came from bad homes, ran away together, and were living in a rundown trailer outside of Phoenix when my mother got pregnant. They had about ten dollars in the bank, Dad just lost his job flipping burgers at some fast food place, and Mom dropped out of high school to help pay the bills.”

“Sounds tough,” Jen said sympathetically.

“They were in no position to have a kid. Even carrying the baby and giving it up for adoption would’ve been hard. They had no money to pay for food, let alone doctor bills. So yeah, they decided on abortion.”

She studied his chiseled profile, but he didn’t look upset about the decision his parents had made, and his tone of voice didn’t convey bitterness either.

“Anyway, once my dad turned eighteen, he started buying lottery tickets. He figured their situation couldn’t get any worse than it already was, so he shelled out two bucks a week, and every week, they didn’t win a damn thing.” He grinned. “So they’re sitting there in the waiting room of the abortion clinic and the TV’s on. The news is replaying the winning numbers from the night before, and Dad realizes he forgot to check his ticket. So he pulls it out and what do you know—he’s won the jackpot.”

She stared at him in amazement. “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious. They won ten million dollars.”

“Holy shit.”

“Mom decided it was a sign from God telling them to keep me. She says God knew they needed cash and so he graciously gave them some. That’s why they named me Cash.”

“Wow. I can’t believe that’s a true story. It sounds like the plot of one of those feel-good movies.”

He rolled his eyes. “Your turn. Why’d your parents name you Jennifer?”

“It’s my mom’s middle name.”

“That’s it? That’s the story?”

“Gee, Cash, I’m sorry the origins of my name aren’t to your liking.”

A familiar female voice interrupted before he could respond. “Jen!”

Squinting, Jen looked up and spotted Annabelle Holmes waving at her from a third-floor balcony.

“Stay there. We’re coming down,” Annabelle called before disappearing from view.

Cash looked surprised for a moment. “You know Annabelle?” He quickly answered his own question. “Wait, of course you do. You probably know her better than I do, huh? Evans, too.”

She nodded. “Annabelle’s awesome. But I don’t know Ryan as well as some of the others. I’m probably closest with Garrett and Will since they’re my brother’s BFFs. Do you know them? Neither of them is active duty anymore, but I’m sure you’ve at least heard of them.”

“Will was one of my instructors during BUD/S training,” he answered. “And Garrett hosts poker night every now and then, but we’re not close.”

“You’re missing out. He’s hot.”

Cash snorted. “How am I missing out?”

She pictured John Garrett’s soulful brown eyes and ripped body, and a little shiver danced up her spine. “Because he’s…well, hot,” she said again. “I had the biggest crush on Garrett when I was a teenager. He was eight years older and completely unattainable. He treated me like a pesky little sister, and then by the time I was old enough to catch his eye, he’d turned into a manwhore and had enough threesomes with my brother that hooking up with him would’ve felt like hooking up with Carson.”

She suddenly noticed that Cash’s expression had hardened. A glint of displeasure lit his blue eyes, almost as if he was…jealous? Because she’d admitted to having a crush on someone else when she was younger?

Before she could ask, the back door of the building swung open and Annabelle emerged, looking gorgeous and relaxed in a cotton print sundress and sandals. Ryan Evans tailed his girlfriend, his tall, muscular frame clad in bright blue surf shorts and a black wife beater.

“Hey,” Annabelle said happily as Jen stood up to greet her. The two women hugged, while Ryan reached out to tap fists with Cash. “Carson said you were moving in today. He ordered us to make you feel welcome.”

Jen frowned. “He specifically called you to tell you that?”

The brunette snickered. “He called everyone.”

“Conferenced us all in this morning,” Ryan piped up.

“He held a
conference
call?” Jen said in disbelief.

“Everyone was on the line,” Annabelle explained with a grin. “Even Garrett and Will.”

Ryan laughed. “It was like a high school reunion over the phone.”

Wow. Her brother was
really
taking this Brendan thing seriously, wasn’t he? Sweet as it was, she couldn’t fight the urge to strangle him.

“Anyway, we wanted to have you over for dinner this week,” Annabelle said. She glanced at Cash. “You too, Cash.”

“We’ll be there,” he answered. “Thanks for the invite.”

“You’re welcome. Now, shoo, both of you,” Annabelle said, dismissing the men with the wave of her hand. “I want to talk to Jen alone.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Where exactly do you want us to go?”

She waved her hand again. “I don’t know. Over there. Out of earshot.”

Jen hid a grin as the two men lumbered off toward the shallow end of the pool.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of dumping her,” they heard Ryan say loudly. “She’s incredibly bossy.”

Annabelle ignored her boyfriend’s taunt and flopped down on one of the lounge chairs. “Sit. I need to ask you something.”

Intrigued, Jen sat on the neighboring chair and met Annabelle’s concerned brown eyes. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you. Are you seriously in danger from this Brendan guy?”

Jen sighed. “I don’t think so. His creep levels are high, but I think the texts and emails will stop once he leaves town. He’s being transferred to Oakland at the end of the month.”

“Yeah, Carson mentioned that.” Annabelle’s expression turned shrewd. “Are you just saying this so nobody will worry? Because if you believe this guy might actually go American Psycho on you, you need to say something.”

“I’m not just saying it. Brendan is weird and clingy, and yes, he did get slightly violent one time, but I don’t think he’s capable of anything extreme, like murder. He’s got a good position at his investment firm and there’s no way he’d risk throwing away his career. Success is important to him.”

Annabelle relaxed. “Okay. But if you feel like you’re in real danger, don’t brush it off. Tell Cash, or Carson, or Ryan. Don’t think that a restraining order means you’re protected.”

“I promise I’ll tell someone if I feel like I’m in danger.”

“Good.” Annabelle ran a hand through her chocolate-brown hair. “Now I’m going to be extra nosy and ask you something else.”

“Um…okay.”

“What’s going on with Holly and your brother?”

“What are you talking about?” Jen asked in confusion.

“The arguments… Holly staying with her sister…?”

“What?”

The other woman instantly backpedaled. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t just say something like that and ask me to forget it. What do you mean Holly is staying with her sister?”