Cash frowned. “You all live around the corner. Why you getting dressed?”
“We’re coming with you,” Dylan answered cheerfully.
“Duh,” Seth said in a dry voice.
“You think we’re going to let you confront the psycho without backup?” Jackson piped up as he bent to lace up his boots.
“I’m only going to talk to the guy.”
“Talking’s for pansies,” Seth replied. “If you want him to get the message, you’ve gotta rough him up a bit.”
“It might come to that,” he admitted. “But you guys don’t need to get involved. It’s not your fight.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” Dylan shot back. “Your fights are our fights. Besides, I wouldn’t mind giving that asshole a warning of my own. Considering what happened last night, I’m feeling a tad invested in Jen’s safety too.”
Seth’s head swiveled from Cash to Dylan, and then he started to laugh. “Son of a bitch. You tag-teamed the LT’s sister?”
“No,” they said in unison.
“Wow. Just…wow.” Seth doubled over, gripping his side as he laughed. When he finally settled down, he sent a mocking look in Cash’s direction. “You realize you went from begging us to help you not screw her, to screwing her, to screwing her with Dylan. What’s next? Can me and Texas join in next time?”
Jackson’s slow drawl joined the mix. “Yeah, can we? I still haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the mysterious Jen.”
Cash glared at Dylan, who seemed to regret opening this can of worms. “No one is joining in. But if you’re serious about coming along, I’d appreciate the backup. I haven’t met this guy, so I don’t know what to expect.”
“Where are we going?” Seth tossed his wet trunks in the back of the Jeep.
“The Gaslamp Tavern.”
Seth headed for the driver’s door with his badass swagger, while Jackson walked around to the passenger side. “We’ll meet you there.”
After the Jeep sped out of the lot, Cash glowered at Dylan. “Did you have to drop that last night comment? I didn’t exactly want those two knowing about the threesome with Jen.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Clearly. Way to blow it.”
“Actually, I blew you,” Dylan said glibly.
They looked at each other for several long moments.
And then they burst out laughing.
When the laughter died down, Cash shot his friend a somber look. “We cool? You’re not going to get all weird around me now, are you?”
“Naah, we’re cool.”
Relief fluttered through him. “Good.”
Dylan smirked. “You were actually worried, huh? What, you thought I’d morph into a teenage girl and never talk to you again?”
“The thought crossed my mind.”
“Aw, you love me, don’t ya? You would’ve missed your bestest fwend ever.”
Cash gave him the finger. “Get in the car, asshole.”
Fifteen minutes later, Cash slowed the car in front of the Tavern. There was no meter parking outside the bar, so he had to drive to the next block to find a spot. He and Dylan strode down the sidewalk a few minutes later, scanning both sides of the road for Seth’s Jeep.
“There they are.” Dylan shoved his fingers in his mouth and whistled to get Seth and Jackson’s attention.
The duo jogged across the street and met them at the front door of the Tavern. The after-work happy hour was in full swing when the four men entered the bar. Cash took the lead, pausing at the edge of the main room to search the crowd for lone male patrons. All he saw were groups of three or four, clad in business attire and chatting over beers and cocktails.
His gaze shifted toward the counter, the haven for single males. Out of the dozen people occupying the tall stools, most were older men who wore weathered, tired looks as they silently nursed their drinks. One man seemed around the right age, but his gleaming shaved head and plethora of tattoos, including one circling his thick neck, told Cash the guy was no investment banker.
He continued his inspection. Bingo. A man in his late twenties or early thirties sat at the far end of the counter. He had a slick look to him—perfectly styled brown hair, clean-shaven face, expensive Rolex on his wrist. He wore a black suit, no tie, with an open-collar white shirt. Cash couldn’t deny the guy was handsome, but something about those sharp clothes and perpetual smirk rubbed him the wrong way.
“Nine o’clock,” he murmured.
The others followed his gaze. “That him?” Seth murmured back.
“Let’s go and find out.”
They started walking, drawing uneasy glances from several of the other patrons. The female bartender lifted her head at their approach, her eyes lighting with unconcealed approval, but something about their expressions must have triggered her internal alarm, because as they got closer, the appreciation in her eyes faded into wariness.
Her concern didn’t surprise Cash. The four of them made a formidable sight. Six-feet-plus, two hundred pounds of muscle, and in military-issued shitkickers, to boot.
They moved toward Mr. Slick the way they moved on an op—with single-minded focus and a helluva lot of aggression.
The man looked startled when he noticed them. He set down the wine glass he’d been sipping. “Can I help you?” he asked coolly.
Cash instantly recognized that gravelly voice. “You Brendan?” he said, equally cool.
“Who’s asking?”
“My friends and I were hoping to have a little chat with you.”
Brendan’s shoulders stiffened. “Screw off. I’m waiting for someone.”
Cash bared his teeth in a not-so-pleasant smile. “Yeah, about that…I’m afraid Jen won’t be coming.”
Surprise flared in Brendan’s brown eyes. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”
Behind the counter, the bartender inched toward the telephone hanging on the wall. When she reached out for it, neither Cash nor the others missed the movement of that manicured hand.
“I’ve got this,” Jackson said.
He moved toward the pretty brunette, resting his elbows on the counter and flashing that aw-shucks smile of his. “Don’t worry, sugar, there won’t be any trouble,” Jackson drawled. “Just a few friends shootin’ the breeze.”
“Who are you?” Brendan repeated, beginning to look irritated.
Cash’s smile widened. “Oh, I didn’t introduce myself? I’m Jen’s boyfriend.”
The other man’s jaw went slack. Then he scowled. “Bullshit.”
“Sorry, man, but it’s the truth. And see, as her boyfriend, I’ve gotta admit I’m getting really fucking annoyed with your harassment.”
Brendan slid off the stool in a huff. “I don’t believe you. Jen would never go out with someone like you.”
He raised his brows. “Someone like me?”
“Yeah, the dumb muscleman type.” Contempt dripped from the man’s voice. “Military too, from the looks of you. Jen doesn’t date military muscle heads.”
Cash exchanged a grin with Dylan and Seth. Jackson, who’d lured the bartender away from the phone, glanced over and flashed a grin of his own before resuming his flirting.
“Military muscle heads, huh?” Cash slanted his head. “Well, these military muscle heads want to talk to you outside.”
“Fuck off.”
Brendan tried to take a step, but he hit a wall of—surprise—muscle. Dylan and Seth flanked Cash, and all three men crossed their arms over their chests.
“Get out of my way,” Brendan said through visibly clenched teeth.
“That’s not gonna happen,” Cash replied. “Not until we get some things straight. You’ve got two options here. Either you calmly follow us outside so we can continue this discussion, or I drag you out by the collar of your shirt.”
“I’d choose option one,” Dylan suggested.
“Yeah,” Seth agreed. “That shirt looks expensive. Wouldn’t want it getting ripped when Cash hauls you outt
a here.”
Brendan took another step forward. Hit another wall of muscle.
Bitterness crept into his tone as he capitulated. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Hiding a smile, Cash clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder and led him to the hallway at the rear of the bar. They received a few odd looks from the wait staff as they crossed the employees-only area.
A metal door met them at the end of the corridor. Keeping a hand on Brendan’s shoulder, Cash pushed open the door, which led out to a narrow alley separating the Tavern from the neighboring Chinese restaurant. Dumpsters cluttered the space, and the smell of garbage and urine wafted in the air. The sun hadn’t completely set yet, but the sky was cloudy, casting gray shadows over the alley.
Once outside, Brendan got a taste of freedom and tried to scurry away, his gaze glued to the opening where the alley connected with the street.
Cash swiftly stepped in his path. “Now, now, no running off,” he said pleasantly. “We haven’t had a chance to talk yet.”
Seth and Dylan flanked him again, while Jackson stayed by the door, his dark head scouting the alley and the exit of the restaurant next door.
“Look,” Brendan burst out, “I don’t know who you are, but my relationship with Jen is none of your business.”
“Relationship?” He made a tsking noise. “She dumped you, Brendan, and rather than handling the breakup like a mature adult, you’ve decided to play these sick games with her. But it stops tonight, understand?”
Tightening his jaw, Cash got right in the other man’s face. “Stop emailing her. Stop calling. Stop harassing her family and friends. As of this moment, Jen does not exist.”
Brendan looked livid, but his jaw remained shut.
“She doesn’t want to see you, she doesn’t want to talk to you. Hell, she doesn’t want to think about you. It’s time for you to get the message. Go to Oakland, do your investment banking thing, and leave Jen alone.”
Brendan’s nostrils flared. “Who the hell do you think you are, ordering me around? I don’t know you, asshole. And you know nothing about my relationship with—”
“Again with this relationship bullshit?” Cash sighed. “Just nod and tell me you understand, buddy. If you don’t, the only relationship you’ll be having is the one with my fist.”
Dylan snickered.
On Cash’s other side, Seth reached into his pocket for a pack of Marlboros. He extracted a smoke and lit up, looking bored as he inhaled, but the deadly look in his eyes belied his casual pose. Seth could rip Brendan to pieces in a nanosecond, if the provocation presented itself.
Brendan went silent, his eyes shifting from one man to the other. Then, as if he knew he was beaten, he mumbled a curse and said, “Fine. I won’t bother her again. Happy, asshole?”
“Ecstatic. Now that we’ve cleared all this up, you can—”
The right hook blindsided Cash.
Fortunately, he saw the fist coming at his nose at the last second and shifted his head so that Brendan missed the intended target. The blow sliced into the corner of Cash’s mouth instead. His bottom lip snagged on his teeth and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
Oh, hell no.
As Jen’s ex charged forward with a second attack, Cash struck him with a jab that made the man’s head snap back. With a roar, Brendan threw another punch, which Cash easily blocked. Blood continued to pour from the side of his mouth, but he didn’t bother wiping it away. Anger pulsed in his veins, and his vision became a red haze. Blocking the fists swinging in his direction, Cash sidestepped and got his arms around the man from behind.
“Are you done?” he demanded as he secured Brendan in a chest lock.
“Screw you!” was the sputtered response. And then the guy elbowed him in the jaw before spinning around and landing a lucky kick on Cash’s groin.
Years of training had taught him to ignore the pain zipping through his balls. Without so much as flinching, he drew his arm back, prepared to pummel the asshole’s pretty mug again, but Seth’s fist beat him to it.
A sickening crunch sounded in the air.
Blood erupted from Brendan’s nose and his hands flew to his face. “You fucking asshole!” he shrieked. “You broke my nose!”
Seth just chuckled. “Shouldn’t have played dirty, going for McCoy’s balls like that. A broken nose seemed like suitable punishment.”
Cash stared at Jen’s ex, feeling a sick sense of satisfaction from the unnatural tilt of the guy’s nose and the blood flowing freely from his nostrils.
Seth retreated and walked over to Dylan, who had watched the entire scuffle with visible amusement.
Cash got in Brendan’s face again, narrowing his eyes. “This is your last warning. Stay away from Jen. If you try to make contact again, my friends and I will pay you another visit, and trust me, next time you’ll have a lot more than a broken nose.”
He stepped back just as sirens wailed from a distance.
Shit.
Cash caught the flicker of alarm on Dylan’s face, the resignation in Seth and Jackson’s expressions.
A car door slammed and footsteps thudded into the alley.
He didn’t need to turn around to know what awaited them.
“This is the San Diego PD! Hands in the air!”
Chapter Ten
Coming up with excuses not to go after what you want won’t achieve a damn thing.
Jen couldn’t get those words out of her head as she wandered around the apartment. After Cash left, she’d tried occupying herself by posting some photos on her blog, but her heart hadn’t been in it. Sifting through her photographs, she’d kept thinking back to everything Cash had said. Ordering her to stop making excuses and man up. Accusing her of letting her parents’ criticism erode her self-esteem.
His words had hurt, but not for the reason he’d clearly believed. He hadn’t damaged her pride or hurt her feelings. No, what he’d done was voice the truth she’d been too blind to see.
She’d always told herself that photography was just a hobby. The thought of pursuing it on a professional level had crossed her mind once or twice, but her lack of experience and education had held her back. Better to call it something she did in her spare time and leave it as that.
But who was she kidding? Photography was her one and only passion, the only thing in her life that made her feel contented and confident. Cash was right. She couldn’t make excuses any longer. She chose to work at pointless dead-end jobs not because she didn’t have any other options, not because she sucked at everything else, but because she was too scared to pursue the one thing that made her happy.
Biting her lip, she paused in the middle of the living room, wishing Cash would come home already so she could explain that she wasn’t angry with him, but with herself. For being a damn scaredy-cat and letting her parents and her own self-doubt hold her back for so long.
Where the hell is he?
She stalked into the kitchen to check the time, frowning when she noticed it was past eight already. He was supposed to meet Brendan at six thirty, and she couldn’t imagine the confrontation lasting this long.
And that was another thing—why had he insisted on confronting her ex-boyfriend? Cash possessed some serious protective instincts, but she got the feeling this was about more than protecting her. This was about him…staking a claim.
Her teeth dug deeper into her lower lip. Was Cash developing deeper feelings for her?
Was she developing deeper feelings for him?
No, of course not. This was just a fling. A fling that would end in a week and a half.
Does it have to?
Did it?
Yes.
Well, maybe.
She took pause, weighing the notion in her head. Her cheeks scorched as she thought about all the spectacular sex they’d been having. And the threesome…God, the threesome. Her body still tingled at the memory, and yet as amazing as last night had been, she wasn’t looking for a repeat performance. A fantasy fulfille
d, that was how she viewed it, and she couldn’t see the whole ménage thing becoming a habit.
Besides, Cash McCoy didn’t need outside assistance to satisfy her. The man was perfectly capable of driving her wild all by his lonesome.
But his superior bedroom skills weren’t the only things she liked about him. He might be gruff and intense at times, but he was also funny, sweet, smart…and a military man to the core. He’d confessed his desire to go to officer school, which told her he was committed to the military life, and he was still young, which meant he had at least another decade or two before he rode a desk at the base.
Regret rippled through her. No matter how much she liked Cash, she didn’t want that kind of life. She’d already watched her mother struggle, and now she had to watch her sister-in-law suffer the same fate, spending long stretches apart from her husband, unable to talk to him anymore because they felt like strangers.
When a knock came on the door, Jen made a beeline for the front hall, needing the distraction. She peered into the peephole and found her brother’s cloudy blue eyes staring back at her. Instantly, her mood sank even lower. She hadn’t spoken to Carson since she and Cash had witnessed his coffee date with that redhead, and she was not looking forward to the argument that lay ahead.
“What’s up?” Carson said once she let him in. “Your messages sounded cryptic. All seven of them.”
He looked annoyed as he followed her into the living room. “Want something to drink?” she asked, stalling.
“No.” He flopped down on the couch and glanced around warily. “Where’s McCoy?”
She sighed. “Being a hero.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the big, bad soldier is determined to have it out with Brendan.” She settled in the armchair and tucked her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Brendan managed to get my cell number from Tessa.”
“Psycho McGee was bothering Tessa? And Cash is meeting with him now? Where?”
When her brother started to get up, Jen said, “Oh, sit down already. Cash is probably on his way home, so you’d be too late to back him up.”