She looked frazzled. “You sound very confident in your ability to resist my charms.”
“Discipline,” he reiterated.
“Is that a challenge?”
Aw, hell. This entire discussion was treading on dangerous territory.
“I won’t deny I’m attracted to you, but I won’t act on the attraction. That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, though.”
Friends? Christ, he was grasping at straws here. His dick was so hard it had started to tent in his pants, and Jen’s gaze, of course, immediately dropped to his crotch.
“Friends,” she echoed, her eyes twinkling.
He willed his erection to subside. “Why don’t I show you to your room?” he suggested, desperate for a distraction. “You can unpack, and then maybe we’ll grab some lunch or something.” AKA, get the hell out of the apartment before he jumped her bones.
Her mouth tightened in a resigned line. “Fine. I’ll unpack. But I don’t want lunch. I’m kind of pissed off and the only thing that’ll improve my mood right now is Choctastic Verryberry Swirl.”
He gave her a blank stare.
“It’s an ice cream flavor,” she muttered. “There’s a place a few blocks from here that sells it.”
“You want to go out for ice cream,” he said, perplexed.
“Yes.” Those delicate eyebrows lifted in another challenge. “That’s what friends do, no? Go out for ice cream, have a friendly conversation, walk down the sidewalk while keeping a respectable friend distance between each other.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what friends do,” he said lightly. “Come on, your new room awaits.”
They were two steps to the hallway when his cell phone rang. Sliding it out of his pocket, he glanced at the display and saw Dylan’s number flashing on the screen.
He was about to ignore the call, but Jen stopped him. “Answer it. I think I can manage unpacking by myself.”
Frustration gathered in his chest as she flounced off. With a sigh, he brought the phone to his ear and said, “Hey, man. Now’s really not a good time.”
“Why? Are you washing your hair?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Dylan laughed. “Seriously, why do you sound so weird?”
“I’m about to take my new houseguest out for some Choctastic Verryberry Swirl.”
“I don’t know what that means. Is that a code?” Dylan paused. “Are you being held hostage and this is your way of signaling me? Blink twice for yes.”
“How’s that going to work? You can’t see me, asshole.” Cash shook his head, unable to contain his amusement. Life was never boring with Dylan Wade around. “And I’m not being held hostage. I really am going out for ice cream with my new roomie.”
“O’Connor moved out?”
“Short-term. He’s giving up his room so Carson’s sister has a place to stay.”
“The LT’s sister is staying with you?” Dylan sounded mystified. “Why?”
“Long story.” He shot a quick look at the empty hallway, then lowered his voice. “This is bad, man. Like really, really bad.”
“Oh, I get it—total cockblock, huh? You can’t exactly bring chicks home and parade them in front of the LT’s sister.” Dylan made a sympathetic noise. “And speaking of chicks, did you ever find that girl’s number? The one you met at the bar this week?”
A hysterical laugh bubbled in his throat. “It’s her.”
“It’s who?”
“Carson’s sister. She’s the girl from the bar.”
A beat of silence, and then his friend began to laugh. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Cash said glumly.
“That’s awesome. See, I told you everything would work itself out.”
“This isn’t awesome. It’s a total fucking disaster.”
“Uh, didn’t you tell me how badly you wanted to hook up with her?” Dylan reminded him. “And now she’s crashing at your place. Dude. Forget about the ice cream and have sex with her instead.”
“I can’t.”
“Okay, I have to ask this again—are you being held hostage? This whole conversation is confusing me.”
“I can’t sleep with her. Carson said she’s off-limits.” He sighed. “The threat of drowning may have been involved too.”
A soft whistle filled the line. “The LT threatened to drown you?”
“Yep.” Cash chewed on the inside of his cheek. “But he was yanking my chain, right? He probably wouldn’t care if I hooked up with his sister, right?”
“No, he really will kill you,” Dylan said matter-of-factly. “Trust me. One time he caught me flirting with Holly and threatened to clock me if I ever did it again. But you know me, I totally did it again. It took two weeks for the swelling in my eye to go down.”
“Wait, you got that shiner from Carson? You told us some loser sucker-punched you at a bar.”
“I lied.” Dylan’s normally lazy voice turned serious. “If Carson said hands-off, then listen to him. You know what they say about playing with fire…”
“Yeah, yeah, you get burned.”
“No, you get drowned.” With a hearty laugh, Dylan hung up.
Chapter Four
Un-freaking-believable.
Jen snuck a sidelong look at Cash as he parked his black Ford Escape at the curb in front of the ice cream parlor. The entire car ride over, he’d been making idle conversation and acting like they were nothing but a pair of buddies going out for ice cream.
It was disconcerting to realize that he hadn’t been kidding about keeping things platonic between them. Not that she was some sex-crazed nympho who couldn’t keep her pants on, but come on. Their chemistry at the Tavern had nearly set the place on fire. And she hadn’t missed that tent situation under his pants earlier—an entire Boy Scout troop could’ve camped under there.
At least he wasn’t denying the chemistry between them. His admission that he desired her had been a definite ego boost…until he’d announced that he wouldn’t be acting on that attraction.
Because of her brother.
And you’re surprised because…?
True. Why was she surprised? Carson had been doing the whole macho big-brother bullshit her entire life. He’d scared away more potential boyfriends than she could count. He’d ruined her first kiss by bursting onto the porch, pulling Ben Sampson off her mid-liplock, and ordering Ben to keep his tongue in his own mouth. And who could forget prom night, when Carson guaranteed she wouldn’t lose her virginity by informing her date of all the ways he could kill a man thanks to his military training.
And then when she’d finally lost her virginity to Kyle Parker, Carson was the one who sent Kyle running by giving him a speech about condoms and threatening to drown him if he knocked her up.
To drown him. Who threatened to drown people, for Pete’s sake?
And now her brother had gotten to Cash, the only man who’d ever managed to arouse her by merely breathing. His military status squashed any notion of something long lasting between them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge in a little fling as long as they were living together. She got the feeling that sleeping with Cash would be a whole new experience, an introduction to the kind of sex she’d always craved—wild, passionate, uninhibited. But Carson had officially thrown yet another wrench in her love life.
“So you weren’t kidding the other day when you mentioned a crazy ex,” Cash remarked.
“I never kid about stalkers,” she answered with a sigh.
A bell dinged as they walked through the door of the ice cream parlor. Jen made a beeline for the counter and ordered without glancing at the menu posted on the wall. “Two scoops of Choctastic Verryberry Swirl in a waffle cone,” she told the pimply-faced kid who greeted her. “And a to-go gallon of the same flavor.”
Cash whistled. “As your friend, I should warn you that all that ice cream can’t be good for your figure.”
She bestowed him a sweet smile. “As the woman you refus
e to sleep with, I should tell you that my figure is none of your concern.”
The kid behind the counter coughed and averted his eyes. “Um. What can I get you?” he asked Cash in a squeaky pubescent voice.
“Double scoop of rocky road. Waffle cone.”
After they paid for their cones and stepped outside, Jen headed for the wooden bench out front, but Cash took her arm and led her back to the SUV. “We’ll sit in the car,” he announced.
“We can’t eat ice cream in your air-conditioned car, cowboy. You’re supposed to eat ice cream outside, where it’s hot and sunny so the cold ice cream hits the spot.”
Unfazed, he dragged her to the passenger door. “Considering your knowledge of obscure ice cream flavors, you probably come to this place a lot. Which means Psycho McGee probably knows that. Which means he might be lurking in the bushes. Ergo, get in the frickin’ car.”
Lord, his hand felt like a steel band around her forearm. This man was strong.
More than a little annoyed at being manhandled, Jen reluctantly got in the SUV, frowning when Cash slammed her door and rounded the vehicle. He slid in next to her without a word and focused on his waffle cone.
Her gaze followed the movements of his tongue. Gosh, look at him go. Lick. Swirl. Flick. Her thighs clenched together as she imagined that tongue working between her legs with that same focused precision.
Plop.
She squeaked when something cold landed between her breasts. Great. Her ice cream was melting.
A second later, Cash shoved a paper napkin in her direction.
Shrugging away his hand, Jen curved her lips in an impish smile. “I got it.” Then she dipped her finger into her cleavage, swiped at the ice cream and brought that finger to her mouth.
Cash made a hissing sound as she licked her finger clean.
“So out of curiosity, how many female friends do you have?” she asked.
His expression turned stony. “None. How many stalkers do you have?”
“Just the one,” she said cheerfully, then licked the side of her cone before another drop of melting ice cream slid off.
From the corner of her eye, she saw that the tables had turned. Cash was now watching her, those vivid blue eyes glued to her mouth. Deciding to milk it for all she was worth, she licked her ice cream until she heard that sexy little hissing sound again.
She met his eyes. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” he said stiffly. “So…uh…how’d you hook up with Psycho McGee anyway?”
“He came into my store to buy his mother a locket.” She lapped at the top of her cone, then rubbed her lips over the cold cream. “Gosh, this is so good. Wanna taste?”
Licking her lips, she stuck out her cone.
Cash stared at it as if it carried the Ebola virus. “No thanks.”
“Suit yourself,” she said, shrugging as she went back to diligent licking.
The temperature in the SUV spiked. The sound of crunching filled the air as Cash polished off his cone with impressive speed. The second he swallowed the last bite, he wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin and abruptly started the engine.
“That was fun,” he said in an overly cheerful voice. “We should do this again sometime.”
She rolled her eyes as he practically burned rubber pulling away from the curb. So he didn’t enjoy a little harmless teasing. Too bad, because he deserved it. It bugged her how he could so easily give in to her brother’s demands. That he was actually willing to shove her in the friend zone all because his commanding officer told him to.
As frustration boiled in her belly, Jen focused on her cone, wishing that she weren’t so damn attracted to the man sitting beside her. But he was just so…sexy. And he smelled terrific—the scent of his woodsy aftershave kept wafting into her nose and giving her a head rush.
“Four months,” Cash finally said, bringing the conversation back to Brendan. “When did you realize he was nuts?”
“After he started texting me every hour.” She shook her head, the arousal plaguing her body fizzling as memories of Brendan crept in. “And if I didn’t respond, he’d call and demand to know where I was and what I was doing.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Yeah, real fun. Clingy and possessive are deal-breakers for me when it comes to relationships.”
“No kidding.”
“Once he showed me that side of himself, I knew I had to end it, and when he told me he was being transferred, it gave me the perfect opportunity to break it off. He tried convincing me to have a long-distance relationship, but I held my ground and told him it was over.”
“And he didn’t take it too well,” Cash filled in.
“Nope. He caused a huge scene at the restaurant, cursing and yelling, which was embarrassing as hell, by the way. I figured he’d cool down in a few days and get over it, but he didn’t. He started sending me long, desperate emails, texts pleading with me for another chance. He had flowers delivered to my apartment every day for a week. Finally I called him and told him to stop, making it clear that it was over.” She sighed. “He didn’t like that one bit.”
Cash’s jaw went stiff as he said, “Carson said he attacked you.”
“He grabbed me,” she admitted. “I was at a club with my friend Tessa and he followed us there. When we were leaving, Tessa was on the sidewalk hailing a cab, and Brendan just appeared out of nowhere. He grabbed my arm and begged me for another chance, and when I told him to leave me alone, he shook my shoulders and started yelling.” She couldn’t help but grin. “I kicked him in the balls and dove into the cab.”
“Good girl.” Cash’s blue eyes glimmered with approval.
“And I spent the night at Tessa’s. That sweet cabbie actually walked us to her door and made sure we locked it after him.”
She popped the last piece of waffle cone into her mouth and chewed slowly. “The next day, Brendan showed up at the jewelry store with flowers and apologized. I told him for the hundredth time that it was really over, and he seemed to accept it. But he kept up with the emails and texts, which only got angrier and creepier. Then he started leaving me handwritten notes in my mailbox.” Her chest tightened with anger. “But the last straw was breaking into my apartment. Did Carson tell you about the rose petals?”
Cash nodded.
“How freaking creepy is that?” she burst out.
She still remembered the fear shuddering through her veins when she’d walked through the door and found that trail of crimson petals. Rather than following it to her bedroom, she’d raced into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife. Then she’d called the cops and her brother, and waited out in the hall until help arrived. Fortunately, the apartment had been empty, save for the roses and the chilling note Brendan had left on her pillow. She ended up spending the night with Carson and her sister-in-law, and the next morning, Carson drove her to the station to file the restraining order.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see what a psycho he was,” she grumbled. “I must be the biggest idiot on the planet.”
Cash’s voice turned gruff. “You’re not an idiot. Guys like that know how to manipulate people. They wear this perfect mask to lure you in, and once they have you, they drop the mask and let their inner crazy shine.”
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 wante
d 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.”