by Marie Harte
“What? So I should join the Marines?”
Cash agreed with the kid’s skepticism. “Hell no. Not now. Your mouth would get your head ripped off and shoved right up your ass.”
“Cash, language,” Jordan growled.
“Sorry. But it’s true. Look, Rafael. I’m not here to sell you on the Marines.” He added under his breath, “The only good service, you want my opinion.” In a louder voice, he said, “I’m just here to talk to you about being a man.”
Rafael stared up at the ceiling and groaned. “God, not the safe sex talk.”
Jordan moved a chair from the dining table closer to the couch and sat. “No, it’s not the safe sex talk, you moron.” She nodded for Rafael to sit on the ottoman by the coffee table.
Cash was surprised when the kid obeyed.
“So if it’s not a safe sex talk, why are you here?”
The word sex made him think of Jordan, so Cash ignored her, needing to focus on the boy. “Look. I’m just here to help. I remember what it was like to be an obnoxious teenager always getting into trouble. Fact is you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do. It’s the truth, Jordan,” he said to forestall her. “But, kid, I can tell you that blowing off school won’t help. You just have to get through the next two years, right?”
Rafael shrugged.
“I take that as a yes. So why is it so hard to shut the fuck up and do your work without aggravating the world?”
Jordan groaned. “Language.”
“Please,” her brother scoffed. “I’m grown, Jordan. A fuck here and there isn’t going to corrupt me.” Rafael was full of that famous Fleming sarcasm.
Cash nodded. Looking directly at her, he raised his eyebrows. “Jordan, why don’t I take Rafi out to grab some ice cream?”
“Oh, I can do that,” she said, getting the hint. “You guys stay here.” She hurried to grab her keys.
Rafael agreed to some private time, surprising him. “Yeah, Jordan. Pick up some Rocky Road while I talk to your boyfriend.”
“I told you before. He’s not my boyfriend.” Jordan glared at Cash.
“What the hell did I do?”
“He’s someone who knows what it’s like to be you,” she said to her brother.
“I highly doubt that.” Rafael glanced at Cash’s body, specifically at his arms.
“Hey, I grew into these. At your age, I was a smartass with tiny fists. A lot like you and your sister.”
That got a grin out of the kid and a scowl from Jordan.
“Hey Jordan. I’m a fan of Rocky Road too.” He hurried to hand her a twenty before she left, then sat back on the couch, hoping she was on board with his little plan. “Would you mind grabbing us dessert while we have a man-to-man talk? He’ll pretend he’s listened to get you off his ass. Then we’ll eat, and I’ll go home.” He turned to Rafael. “If you go to bed early, I promise not to bone your sister with you right next door.”
Rafael nodded. “Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”
“Oh!” Jordan literally stomped her foot. “You are not my boyfriend. He’s not,” she said to her brother. “He’s a huge asshole!”
“Jordan, language,” Rafael said with a wicked grin.
“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” she snarled.
Cash coughed to muffle his amusement, and they both watched her slam out the door.
Rafael dropped his smile, looked Cash in the eye, and said, “Now tell me the truth. What are you trying to do with my sister? And why do you think talking to me like you care is going to get you there?”
Chapter 8
Rafael didn’t know what the heck his sister was thinking by inviting Conan the Barbarian to join them for dinner. First of all, it was obvious the dude was into Jordan. Second, no matter how much time had passed between her Army days and sporadic visits home, Rafael knew his sister. She liked this big idiot.
Since she’d started working for Vets on the Go!, she’d mentioned little things about her “boss.” Like how much Cash annoyed her, how he bragged too much, and how that didn’t seem to matter because so many women rubbernecked at the douche’s muscles and good looks. Then she’d mention how hard he worked alongside them, that he was a decent if irritating coworker who refused to act like her superior.
But seeing how flustered she got around the dude, Rafael knew she liked the guy.
He didn’t know how to feel about that. Especially since she’d dragged the monster’s sorry ass into a family issue Cash had no business being a part of.
“Look, Rafi—”
“Rafael,” he said through gritted teeth, even though he actually preferred Rafi. But Rafael made him sound older. More like he could be a part of his friend Juan’s crew than just some teenage flunky at summer school.
“Sorry. Rafael. Your sister loves you, and she’s not sure what else she can do for you. She told me you flunked hard on a bunch of classes. High school is no joke. They actually care what kind of grades you get if you want to get to college. She also said you’re really smart.” The look Cash shot him told Rafael that the guy didn’t exactly agree with that assessment.
Rafael swallowed the fuck you because the guy was huge and Jordan wasn’t around to step in if things got rough. “I am smart. Smart enough to know high school sucks and I’m not learning anything. A, D, F, what does it matter? Most people nowadays don’t even go to school and make money.”
“Yeah? What do they do for a job then?”
“Did you get good grades?”
Cash snorted. The man had a square jaw, a body similar to those on the covers of fitness magazines, and a short haircut that might as well have spelled out ex-military. And his hands. Jeez, he had big hands with bruises on his knuckles. Not a guy who posed as a badass but the real deal.
Though Jordan had never brought her dates home, having spent so much time overseas and in other parts of the country, Rafael had seen pictures of her with boyfriends. None of them had seemed so hard-core.
“Did I get good grades?” Cash asked. “Fuck no. I joined the Marines. Did a lot of stuff I can’t talk about.” Cash shot him a hard smile, and Rafael did his best to look casual and not alarmed. “Shot guns and shit. Then made the mistake of trying to do the right thing and got my ass tossed out of the service.”
“You got a dishonorable discharge?” Rafael gaped. His sister would never be with some guy who had been thrown out of the military. She was all for rules, discipline, and order.
“Nope. I’ve got honorable discharge on my paperwork, so don’t even think of trying to rat me out to your sister on a lie.”
“I’m no narc,” Rafael said.
“Only good thing you’ve got going for you at this point.”
“Fuck you” slipped out in Rafael’s anger.
“Gee, that hurts.” Cash snorted. “Look, kid. Your sister is worried about you. She’s a good person. A hard worker. And she’s smart. She doesn’t take anyone’s shit, least of all mine.”
Rafael tensed when Cash stood because the guy was huge. Rafael stood as well, hoping to look not so small.
“But she loves you, enough that she’s taking on a teenager and working her tail off to help you out. So what’s the real problem? You don’t like school.”
“I don’t.”
“Right. But it’s not a forever deal. Just get decent grades until you’re done. Enough to pass, then your life is your own.” Cash ran a hand over his hair, and his biceps strained his T-shirt.
“Jesus. Are you on steroids or what?”
“Nah. I just lift a lot. At work and for fun. It’s a great stress reliever. You should try it. I can take you to my gym if you want.”
Sadly, Rafael felt like a ten-pound weakling next to Cash. No way he wanted to stand next to the guy in a gym. “Listen, I don’t need a big brother. I don’t even know why my sister asked you to talk to me.�
�� Man, Jordan must really be freaked to ask Mr. Marine over. “Look. You talked. I listened.” He ignored Cash’s snort. “Can we let this go?”
Cash studied him. “I can tell you’re smart. Well, a smartass at least. But your grades suck, and you’re hanging with questionable kids, according to your sister. So what’s the real problem?”
“Why the hell should I tell you?” Rafael didn’t like this guy poking into his private life. “It’s not your business. And I don’t give a shit if you are fucking my sister. You don’t—”
He gasped because suddenly Cash loomed over him, and the look on the guy’s face was anything but pleasant. “You’ve got issues. I get it. You’re an angsty teen with bigger balls than brains. But your sister is one of the best people I know. You will not disrespect her. Not around me.”
Rafael swallowed, hating that he felt so much fear. From this guy, from his life, from his inability to understand so many things. Fury overwhelmed him, and he struck out as hard as he could.
He made contact with Cash’s flat belly. Either the guy had expected the hit and tensed to brace himself or, worse, he always felt like concrete. Rafael didn’t know, and now his hand hurt. He didn’t plan to hang around for the repercussions.
He tried to run and found himself jacked against the wall, Cash’s mighty forearm against his chest, the big guy not even winded. Rafael flailed a little more and got nowhere.
“Not bad. You done?”
He felt a second wind coming. “Don’t you touch me,” he shouted and tried to break free.
Cash sighed. “Kid, if I ‘touched’ you, you’d know it. I don’t hit teenagers. And I sure the hell don’t let anyone talk bad about Jordan.”
Rafael’s heart rate started to settle.
“That’s why you’re up against this wall, and you know you deserve it.”
Rafael started to sag, embarrassed it took someone not family to defend the only person who genuinely cared about him. His eyes burned.
Cash slowly eased back and stuck his hands in his pockets, no doubt seeing the tears Rafael didn’t want to shed. “Look, Rafael. Jordan loves you. If I’d had a sister that great when I was your age, someone who took care of me and wanted the best for me no matter what, I might have turned out a better guy. You’ve got that. Don’t blow it. I don’t know what your shit is. I do know you have it in you to be a better person. And that’s not about grades or school or joining the Army.” He sneered the word, and Rafael wanted to both laugh and cry. “But don’t get your ass arrested because it’ll fuck up your life before you can get started.”
He paused, still watching Rafael so carefully. “You’re not the only one dealing with crap in your life. Everyone has it. It’s what you do about it that counts. So you suck at school. So what? I can’t spell worth a damn, and I don’t care. I’m amazing. Just look at this.” Cash flexed his biceps and grinned. “I focus on the things I can do right. I’m big. Might be dumb as a rock, but I know how to protect the people I care about. And, yeah, I move shit for a living, something anyone can do. But when I’m doing it, I’m the best damn mover you’ve ever seen.”
Rafael wanted to say something mean, but what could he say? Cash laid it out, called himself stupid and awesome in the same breath. “I…I hate school.”
Cash said nothing.
“My life is my business. Not yours.”
Still nothing.
“But I won’t drag Jordan down.”
Now the big guy nodded.
“I didn’t mean to before. It’s just that I get so frustrated. School sucks so much. It’s summertime, and I’m having to deal with learning stuff.”
Cash sighed. “I feel for you. I hated classrooms. And it doesn’t stop after high school. There’s always something you gotta learn. But stripping an M-16 was fun. So was learning offensive tactics and blowing crap up. So maybe you find something you like, and you can focus on that.” He paused. “I’m not gonna Big Brother you. I know you’re a man and can handle yourself. But a man takes care of his family first.” Cash frowned. “Just between you and me, your folks are sorry-ass people.”
On that Rafael agreed. Though he loved his parents, he didn’t understand why they wanted to throw him away.
“I mean, why aren’t they helping you? Why does your sister, who just got out of the service and is still adjusting to civilian life, have to deal with your problems? Not saying she shouldn’t because she’s that kind of person. She’s got heart. But, man, your parents have money and time Jordan doesn’t have.”
And that made Rafael feel even worse about everything. He was so stupid, always making mistakes because his brain didn’t work right. Bad enough he’d sunk himself. Now he’d brought Jordan down into his mess.
Cash kept talking about life choices, that new tutor Jordan wanted him to use, and how high school didn’t really matter in the end so long as he got through it. Rafael heard the words but couldn’t make sense of them, too trapped in misery. He wanted space to think, time to figure out what he needed to do to make things right.
Jordan came through the door carrying a container of ice cream, and her obvious concern tore him up. Handling all his shit on top of her own issues. Because, yeah, he’d seen her looking at different college applications for herself, at trade schools, other jobs she might want. Stuff she couldn’t do while helping him deal.
“Everything okay—Rafi!” She was fast and grabbed him by the tail of his shirt before he could bolt.
Afraid to cry in front of her and Cash, he tugged away and waved over his shoulder as he rushed past her. “I’m good. Just going to grab something and give you two lovebirds some space. I’ll be at Daniel’s, I swear. I’ll text you.” Then he hurried to freedom…well, as much as he could get on his limited bus fare budget.
* * *
Cash didn’t know what the hell had gone through Rafael’s head, but he’d thought the kid had heard him on all the finer points. He seemed a decent enough boy, if a little sarcastic. But didn’t everything merit rebellion at that age?
“What did you do?”
Uh oh. Jordan looked angry, a momma bear protecting her young. He held up his hands. “Whoa. Don’t look at me. I tried the heart-to-heart with the kid. He hates school, is frustrated with life, and doesn’t understand what the hell I’m here for.”
She kept frowning but deflated a bit. She left to put the ice cream away then returned with a question. “Why did he take off?”
“I don’t know. Maybe so you wouldn’t see him crying?”
“You made him cry?” She stormed over to him and poked him in the chest. “What exactly did you say?”
Woman had a bony finger. He rubbed his chest and tried to back away but found himself blocked by the wall. “Hey, now. Easy, killer.” She didn’t seem amused. “Look, I tried to tell him to just deal with the next few years, then live his own life. I told him how lucky he was to have you batting for him.” He didn’t think he should mention the part about Rafael hitting him or about the kid speculating on who Jordan might be fucking. And that whole conversation about shitty parents probably wouldn’t go over well either. “You didn’t see any bruises on him when he left, did you?”
She continued to glare at him. “I better not ever see one on him from you. Ever.”
“Got it.” Was it wrong that he loved how protective she was about her brother? God, could the woman do something to annoy him out of this stupid crush he had on her? “So, um, dinner?”
She took a step back and frowned. Before she said anything, her phone jingled. She reached into her back pocket, read the screen, and sighed. “Rafi’s hanging with Daniel, who’s not a bad kid. A nerdy gamer, but he’s decent enough, with a nice mom. Rafi said he’s fine and that you—Conan—didn’t do anything to make him leave.”
“Okay then.” Out of that doghouse at least. Good to know the kid really wasn’t a narc. “So you were
going to tell me about dinner?”
“You and food.” Jordan shook her head. “Has anyone ever come between you two?” she joked. “Because I can see you marrying a lasagna, but nothing else long term.”
Mariah came to mind, and he shut the thought down fast, though he felt grateful for the intrusion. Yeah, he’d once put himself out there. And look at how that had turned out. This fascination for Jordan meant nothing. Just a hot chick with a core of honor whom he happened to work with. It was natural he’d be attracted to qualities he’d once hoped he might possess.
“Nope.” He forced a grin. “Nothing beats a decent mac ’n’ cheese.”
She shook her head. “It was a casserole, not a simple mac ’n’ cheese.”
“I don’t care what you call it. What’s for dinner tonight?”
She sighed. “Come on. You can help me peel the sweet potatoes and chop up the onions.”
“Wait. Those are vegetables.”
“So smart. You sure you were a Marine?”
He glared at her, saw her smile, and felt his palms sweat. “I can’t believe I have to work for my meal. And let me tell you something, Jordan. You keep rolling your eyes like that, and one day they won’t roll back normal.”
She laughed. “Whatever. Now grab a peeler and stop giving me shit.” She pointed that steel finger at him.
“Fine, fine. No need for violence. Just tell me what to do.”
Over an hour later, he felt more than satisfied. The baked chicken, noodles, and veggie mash had gone down smoothly. He’d forced himself to only take two helpings, still hungry, but sadly not for food. He wished he didn’t remember how she tasted or how right she’d felt when he’d lifted her onto the kitchen counter and settled between her legs.
He hustled her out of the kitchen when she tried to do the dishes. “Go sit and look pretty. Knit. Whatever you women do when you’re not working.”
“Knit?”
He filled a large pan with soapy water and, unable to help himself, tossed over his shoulder, “Or, you know, provide some inspiration and ‘empower’ me.”
