Page 7 of Feeling Hot


  “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?”

  And why the hell didn’t Jen know about it? She’d seen her brother several times this week and not once had he mentioned that he and his wife might be having problems. Granted, he hadn’t offered to let her stay at his place, but she’d figured that was because Carson and Holly’s apartment only had one bedroom. Sleeping on a couch for a month wasn’t Jen’s idea of a good time, and she’d assumed her brother had dumped her on Cash out of a sense of decency, so she’d have a real bedroom and some actual privacy.

  But had he done it for another reason? Made her stay with Cash so she wouldn’t be privy to the rocky state of his relationship?

  “What do you know, Annabelle?” Jen demanded.

  “Not much. Holly won’t talk about it, and when I ask, she says everything is fine. But I know she’s lying. I caught her crying after the wedding we planned last weekend, but she chalked it up to nostalgia and said it reminded her of her and Carson’s wedding.”

  Jen frowned. “You also said they were fighting?”

  “Ry and Matt heard them arguing last week when they showed up early for poker night. And I overheard Holly fighting with Carson over the phone when I went by the restaurant to have lunch with her a couple of days ago. That’s when she told me she’d stayed with her sister the other night. She admitted that they’ve both been really busy and on edge lately, and she claims they needed some breathing room—why on earth would they need breathing room when he’s been gone for the past six months?”

  Jen absorbed the information, wondering if she ought to be worried. It was true, her brother and sister-in-law did lead busy lives. Holly not only spent four days a week working at a five-star restaurant, but she also co-owned an event planning and catering company with Annabelle. The business ate up a lot of their weekends, and several weeknights now that the venture had gained more recognition. And Carson was a SEAL, which not only meant lengthy deployments every other year, but that he was forever on call, ready to get on a chopper at a minute’s notice and often gone for weeks or months at a time with no way to contact his wife.

  The long absences had the power to destroy a relationship—which was precisely why Jen shied away from military men. Growing up, her father had been a complete stranger to her; he’d been the strict, taciturn man who made an appearance whenever his tour of duty ended. Her mother had shouldered the burden of raising Jen and Carson alone, while working as a full-time nurse, to boot.

  Watching her mother struggle and seeing her parents attempt to reconnect each time her dad came home had cemented Jen’s decision to avoid that kind of relationship. She wanted a partner in every sense of the word, a man who’d be there day in and day out, not one who’d hand all the responsibilities to her while he went off to fight for his country.

  It really troubled her to hear that Carson and Holly were having problems. They had a strong, loving relationship, but even the strongest and most loving marriages could buckle under the pressure.

  “I didn’t know anything about it,” she admitted. “But then again, nobody in my family tells me anything.”

  “Well, if you get a chance, talk to Holly, okay? She won’t confide in me or Shelby or anyone else. Savannah thinks we should have a girls’ night next week and pry the truth out of her.”

  “Count me in.”

  “I’ll text you the details when I know them. But if you talk to her before then, see what you can find out.”

  “I will.”

  When male laughter met her ears, Jen’s gaze drifted over to Cash and Ryan, who were chortling about something at the other end of the pool. It suddenly occurred to her just how much they resembled each other. They both had dark brown hair, blue eyes, the same lean and muscular body type. The two of them could easily pass for brothers, yet while she found Ryan attractive, the sight of him didn’t elicit the same rush of desire she felt when looking at Cash.

  Annabelle followed her gaze and smiled coyly. “How do you like Cash?”

  She didn’t bother coming up with an offhand reply; she got the feeling her sexual longing was written all over her face. “What do you think?” she answered in a wry voice.

  “He’s yummy, huh? When I first met him, I asked Ryan if I could change my freebie list and replace Matthew McConaughey with Cash, but he said no because we already had our lists laminated.”

  “Back up—what are you talking about?”

  “The freebie list. You know, the three people you’re allowed to have sex with if the opportunity arises.” Annabelle shrugged. “Me and Ryan are big on lists.”

  “And you got them laminated? That’s beyond weird.”

  “Will it make it weirder if I told you we turned them into business cards and keep them in our wallets?”

  Jen burst out laughing. “Yes.”

  “Anyway.” Annabelle’s gaze glimmered with appreciation as she continued to inspect Cash. “After Ryan shot him down as my freebie, I suggested we invite him to have a threesome, but Ry said no way.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I think he’s scared that Cash might have more stamina than him or something. Ever since Ry turned thirty, he’s all paranoid about his manhood. Personally, I think a threesome would only benefit him. You know, force him to up his game.”

  Jen hoped the other woman couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks. But jeez. Was she the only person on the planet who’d never indulged in a damn threesome? Carson had, and apparent
ly Matt O’Connor still had them all the time since his girlfriend was into it. And a little birdie—ahem, Carson—had let it slip that Annabelle might’ve been the filling in a Ryan and Matt sandwich at one point too…

  Envy burned in Jen’s belly. Seemed like pretty much everyone she knew got to experience the kind of sex she’d always dreamed about. Hot, kinky, exciting.

  She cast another look at Cash, annoyance creeping up her spine. He was laughing at something Ryan had said, looking sexy as all get out with that T-shirt clinging to his washboard abs and perfectly defined pecs. Damn bastard, depriving her of all that sexiness.

  She turned back to find Annabelle staring at her in sympathy. “You do want him. And bad, from the look of it. It sucks about Carson’s ruling, doesn’t it?”

  Jen narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Carson mentioned in the conference call that Cash has been ordered to keep his hands off you.” Along with sympathy, barely restrained humor danced in Annabelle’s brown eyes.

  Jen was outraged. “Wow. He has a lot of nerve. He actually told everyone that?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m going to kill him one day.”

  “Not sure I’d blame you. The way he talks about you, you’re all of twelve years old. I don’t think he realizes you’re practically the same age as his wife.”

  Hey, very true. Holly was only three years older, now that she thought about it.

  Annabelle waved that dainty hand again—she seemed to do that a lot, and Jen had to respect the woman’s no-nonsense attitude. “My advice? You want Cash, go for it. Life’s too short to not go after what you want.”

  “Good advice, except that Cash has decided we’re just friends. He keeps bragging about his formidable discipline.”

  The brunette snorted. “Uh, he’s been undressing you with his eyes for the past twenty minutes. One little push and you’ll have that man in your bed.”

  She shifted her head, and sure enough, Cash’s hot, hungry gaze was glued to her, even as he continued to chuckle and shoot the shit with Ryan.

  Did she have the guts to follow Annabelle’s advice, though? To go for it?