Peter responded with a scowl of his own, and a tightly voiced, “No.”
“But it makes so much more sense than forcing your customers to park on the street,” Seth insisted. “All that empty space back there is a waste.”
Cash stifled a groan when he noticed the growing irritation in Peter’s eyes. “Don’t mind him,” he called to the storeowner. “He thinks he’s a city planner.”
“I should be a city planner,” Seth shot back. “I’d be amazing at it. I’ve got a really good sense of space.”
“More like a good sense of stupid,” Dylan cracked.
Seth flipped him the bird.
“Seriously, just stick to what you’re good at,” Dylan said helpfully. “Being an asshole.”
Cash grinned when Seth didn’t bother denying the charge. Masterson was a pain in the ass who never knew when to keep his mouth shut. And although Seth was now happily married with two kids, marriage and fatherhood hadn’t smoothed out his rough edges. He was still the same smartass he’d always been.
Cash wouldn’t last a day without him, though. Or any of his friends, for that matter. They were more than teammates who watched each other’s backs on ops—they were brothers, and he wouldn’t have chosen anybody else to accompany him today.
“Shit,” he blurted as a thought suddenly occurred to him. “What if she says no?”
His friends snickered.
“I’m serious. We’re acting like yes is a given, but what if Jen doesn’t want to marry me?”
Dylan sighed. “Of course she wants to marry you. Dude, that girl adores you.”
Yeah, she did. Of course she did. They were already living together, for fuck’s sake. If Jen hadn’t wanted a serious commitment from him, she wouldn’t have signed her name on that lease.
If it were up to him, he would’ve proposed to her a long time ago, but he’d forced himself to wait and give Jen time to focus on her career. She was finally making a name for herself as a photographer, frequently being featured in big magazines and going on assignment every few weeks. She’d worked hard to reach that place, but now that she was finding success, Cash was ready to take their relationship to the next level.
The forever one.
“Okay, how about this?” He gestured to a two-karat round diamond affixed on a simple silver band.
“Too plain,” Dylan said immediately.
He pointed to the ring beside it.
“Too flashy,” Seth piped up.
To Cash’s aggravation, that was how the next five minutes progressed. Every time he suggested a ring, his friends shot him down like a sniper.
“Too boring.”
“Too tacky.”
“Too pink—you don’t want a pink diamond, bro. That’s what Ben Affleck got J-Lo, and we all know how that turned out.”
“Do we?” Seth said blankly. “Because I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
“It was all over the news!” Dylan exclaimed.
Seth narrowed his eyes. “Recently?”
“Yeah, like last week or something. Or maybe it was last year.”
Seth pulled out his phone. “Siri,” he ordered, “when did Ben Affleck propose to Jell-O?”
“J-Lo,” Dylan corrected with a grin.
Siri recited, “Ben Affleck proposed to Jennifer Lopez in 2002, when she was in Boston visiting his family—”
“It was almost two decades ago!” Seth said incredulously. He shook his head at Dylan. “Last year, my ass.”
“Wow. Of all the dumb facts for my memory to retain, right?”
“Guys. Seriously.” Cash raked both hands through his hair. “You aren’t helping at all. All you’re doing is fighting and shooting down my suggestions.”
Dylan and Seth were suddenly best buds again.
“Then make better suggestions,” Seth retorted.
“Yeah, then we wouldn’t have to tell you how stupid they are,” Dylan chimed in.
“Ahem.”
This time Cash was grateful for the interruption. Although Peter was frowning, Cash noted the flicker of amusement in the older man’s eyes.
“Maybe I can be of assistance?” he prompted.
“At this point, any assistance is better than what these two are giving me,” Cash muttered.
“Do you love this woman?”
Seth rolled his eyes. “No, he’s proposing to her because he hates her.”
The wisecrack went unacknowledged as Peter continued to study Cash’s face.
“Of course I do,” Cash answered gruffly.
“Good. Now, if you could describe your lady in one word, what would it be?”
That summoned a snort from Seth, but Cash ignored his friend and thought it over. He pictured Jen’s heart-stoppingly beautiful face, her big blue eyes and long golden hair. Her awe-inspiring energy. The way she babbled like a third-grader when she was excited. The brilliant smile she gave him every time he entered the room.
He swallowed, then cleared his throat to dislodge the emotion clogging his windpipe.
“Sunshine,” he finally said. “She’s sunshine.”
To his surprise, neither of his friends made a smartass remark.
Peter broke out in a broad smile. “I know just the one.”
* * *
Jen sipped her jasmine tea, watching her friend over the rim of the mug as she waited for a response to her big news. Or at least she considered it big news. Her editor had called this morning offering her the assignment of a lifetime, but from the uneasy way Claire McKinley was drumming her fingernails on the table, you’d think Jen had been asked to assassinate the president.
“Well?” she demanded, her impatience spilling over.
Claire tucked a strand of reddish-brown hair behind her ear. “Honestly? It sounds dangerous.”
“Well, yeah. There are some risks. But I’ll have a marine escort, not to mention an entire local military unit looking out for me. My editor says they’ll take every precaution to keep me safe.”
Claire’s brown eyes flickered with doubt. “Forgive me if I don’t place too much trust in the local military. There’s a reason we’re sending our marines down there—it’s because the locals aren’t equipped to deal with the violence. Honduras isn’t safe these days, hon. There’ve been two major abductions there in the past six months, and I saw on the news that some towns are completely overrun by gangs. Criminals take over entire city blocks. And don’t get me started on the drug cartels.”
“I won’t be encountering any drug cartels,” Jen protested. “The story is about poverty, and it’s not like I’ll be interviewing people. I’m just there to take pictures. Rick’s sending me to a village south of La Ceiba, and then a small town west of that. Nowhere else.”
Claire shook her head, visibly concerned. “It’s not safe,” she repeated. “Not for the locals, not for Americans, and especially not an American who looks like you.”
A spark of resentment lit her belly. She wanted to ask what her appearance had to do with it, but she already knew the answer to that. Her looks had always been a thorn in her professional life, the main reason why so many people didn’t take her seriously. They got one glimpse at her shiny hair and big eyes and pretty face, and assumed she was an airhead. Or worse, a weak little damsel who couldn’t take care of herself. She encountered plenty of judgy, condescending people when she was on assignment, but luckily her photographs spoke for themselves. She was good at what she did, and her editor was finally giving her a shot to prove it. A real shot.
In the three years she’d been freelancing for Today’s World, her jobs had focused on US politics rather than overseas conflicts. This Honduras assignment was the first one that could actually garner national attention for her. A photo essay she could actually sink her teeth into compared to snapping pictures of senators or political events.
“What does Cash think about it?” Claire asked carefully.
“I haven’t told him yet. I wanted to run it by you first.”
“Wh
y me?”
“Because you’re smart and levelheaded, and you also know that some things are worth the risk.”
Claire’s unorthodox relationship was proof of that. Jen knew her friend had taken a big risk when she’d gotten involved with two men. Her family had nearly disowned her, she’d lost her cushy high-paying job, she’d dealt with whispers and nasty comments from people who didn’t understand her choices. But Claire had loved Dylan and Aidan enough to face the unwelcome consequences.
“Fine, I’ll give you that. But shacking up with two men isn’t exactly on the same danger level as putting yourself in the line of fire. And by the way, quit selling yourself short. You’re smart too, Jen. And just as levelheaded.”
“Tell that to my brother,” she grumbled. “He still treats me like a child.”
“Carson is overprotective because he loves you. But he knows you can take care of yourself.” Claire paused. “Look, if you honestly think this assignment is worth the risks, then my advice is to go with your gut.”
Jen quickly went over the details Rick had given her. It was a two-day job, one village per day, and she’d be riding along with a relief foundation that was making supply runs to local medical clinics and food banks. Yes, both areas were overrun with gangs—maras, as the locals called them. And yes, the entire country was in a battle with the drug cartels that were running rampant in Central America. But the villages she’d been assigned weren’t heavily involved in the violence, or with the recent abductions Claire had mentioned. The people there were poor and starving—which was the main focus of the magazine piece.
“I want to do this,” she admitted. “I think it’s important to show the rest of the world what’s happening down there. A lot of the aid foundations are staying away because of the escalating violence. This article will raise awareness. Maybe it’ll even convince some of the relief organizations to offer their help.”
“It’s an important issue, I totally agree with that. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Claire scowled. “If you go, you need to make sure those jarheads don’t take their eyes off you.”
“Jarheads, huh? I see Dylan has succeeded in brainwashing you.”
“Ha, like Cash doesn’t try to do the same thing.”
“Trust me, I was brainwashed a long time ago.” Jen’s father was a retired navy admiral and her brother was a SEAL lieutenant, which meant she’d witnessed their good-natured rivalry with the “jarheads” long before Cash entered her life.
“What do you think Cash will say?” Claire asked.
“Honestly, I’ll be really surprised if he’s not supportive,” she confessed.
The man was her rock. When she’d first met Cash she’d been the fuckup of her family, working dead-end jobs because she didn’t have the confidence to pursue her dreams. Cash was the one who’d shown her that she could do anything she set her mind to, which was why she was certain he’d be okay with this assignment. He might be uneasy at first, just like Claire had been, but in the end he’d give her the same faith and support he offered on a daily basis.
“Okay, I should head out. Cash will be home soon and I need to make preparations.”
Claire raised her eyebrows. “Preparations?”
“Do you really think I’m going to drop this assignment on him without some prep? I need to butter him up before I tell him about it.”
“Butter him up? Or sex him up?” Claire teased.
“Sex. Duh.”
Jen quickly ran over the agenda in her head. She needed to shower. Dry her hair. Straighten it, maybe? Nah, Cash preferred it wavy. And she wanted to paint her nails that dark shade of red he liked. And he was definitely going to like the naughty purchases she’d picked up before she’d met with Claire.
The plan to butter up her man was a go.
2
His girlfriend was smokin’ hot.
Cash’s tongue hit the floor as he walked into the bedroom and found Jen lying on their bed. Absolute perfection assaulted his vision. White lace and mesh and ribbons joining together to create a jaw-dropping package that turned his dick to steel.
“Did I win the lottery?” he croaked.
Jen smiled, an innocent yet insanely dirty smile that made his pulse race. “How was lunch?” she asked cheerfully.
“Seriously? You’re asking me about lunch? When you’re dressed like that?”
With a coy look, she smoothed out the bottom of her sheer merry widow, and the motion caused her full breasts to jut out enticingly.
Saliva flooded Cash’s mouth. Holy hell. He wanted to suck on those tits so bad his lips were tingling.
“You like?” she prompted, running her fingers over the lingerie’s lacy trim.
“God, yes.”
He strode to the foot of the bed, already yanking his T-shirt over his head. Appreciation burned in Jen’s eyes the second his bare chest made an appearance.
He loved the way she looked at him. His body bore the signs of his job—faded scars, constant bruising, muscles that sometimes ached so bad it hurt to breathe, let alone move. And yet the sight of his body, however banged-up it was, never failed to bring a flare of heat to Jen’s eyes.
“So what’s the occasion?” he asked as he reached for his belt buckle.
“Do I need an occasion to want to look sexy for you?”
“You always look sexy to me.”
Hell, she could be wearing a paper sack and he’d still find her attractive. The woman looked like she’d stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine, and it still amazed him that she preferred to be behind the camera instead of in front of it. But Jen hated being the center of attention. He’d had to remind his buddies of that earlier when they’d been tossing around ideas about how he would propose. He knew Jen wouldn’t want him to make a big scene, but he still wanted it to be special.
“Any more questions?” Her flirty voice interrupted his thoughts.
His eyes narrowed as she rose from the bed with the grace of a feline. Oh, he had a question, all right.
What are you up to?
Jen was impulsive, but there was something decidedly calculated about this little seduction of hers, which told him she had an agenda.
And he would find out what it was.
Later.
Right now? He was totally going with it. Because damn, when your girlfriend looked like that, you were a moron if you didn’t play along.
“It’s your show,” he told her, arching a brow. “So show me what you want.”
She cupped him over his jeans, mischief lifting the corners of her mouth. “What do you think I want?”
Chuckling, he pulled the belt free of its buckle. Jen instantly tackled his zipper, dragging it down before hooking her fingers beneath his waistband.
A moment later, Cash was buck naked, while Jen remained in her lingerie-clad glory. White fucking lace. The woman knew him well. But he knew her, too.
“On your knees, baby.”
She slid down to the hardwood without delay, her eyes bright with excitement. Oh yeah, she loved it when he bossed her around. Almost as much as she liked the dirty talk.
“Wrap your hand around me. Squeeze it nice and tight, the way your pussy squeezes it when I’m inside you.”
A moan escaped her lips. She curled her delicate fingers around his shaft and did what he asked. Gripping him tight enough to make him growl.
“Yeah, that’s it.” Cash tangled his fingers in her hair and stroked the silky strands. His gaze fixed on her mouth. Pink and ripe and perfect for what he wanted.
“Give me that sweet mouth now,” he rasped.
She opened her mouth and engulfed him, her lips tightening around the crown of his cock before sliding lower, taking him deeper.
A bolt of heat shot through him. Jen made a humming sound of approval and it vibrated through his shaft and made him groan. He didn’t know if it was the fact that she’d grown up in a military household, but the woman was damn good at following orders. She’d been dying to explore
her sexuality when they’d first met, and after almost three years together, they were still exploring. Still pushing their sexual limits.
She swirled her tongue around him, greedily lapping him up. Gentle kisses and teasing licks danced over his tip, Jen’s soft moans revealing that she was enjoying every second of her seduction.
He watched her tongue travel along his hard length. She teased the sensitive underside, pumping him slowly with her fist in perfect rhythm to her long, lazy licks.
With his hand cupping the back of her head and his hips setting the pace, it might have seemed like Cash was the one in control. But he knew he wasn’t. The woman on her knees in front of him had all the power, and when she sucked his entire length all the way to the back of her throat, black dots flashed in his vision and he almost keeled right over.
“Oh fuck,” he mumbled. “Please, do that again.”
She released his cock and peered up at him, batting her eyelashes like the temptress she was. “Ask me again—and not so nicely this time.”
His lips twitched when he saw the look in her eyes. He tightened his grip on her hair. “Deep-throat me, baby. Suck it like you mean it.”
A peal of laughter escaped her perfect lips. “Much better, cowboy. You know I like you better when you’re filthy.”
The nickname made him smile. She’d been calling him that since the night they’d met, when she’d insisted that his name sounded like it belonged to a cowboy.
He groaned when she took him deep again, fast, but just as the orgasm gathered at the base of his spine, Jen wrenched her mouth away.
“You’re not allowed to come yet,” she said, wagging a finger as she got to her feet.
He planted his hands on her slender hips and tugged her toward him. “What about you? Are you allowed to come?”
His mouth crashed down on hers before she could answer, tongue stealing into her mouth as he brought one hand between her legs and cupped her over her barely-there panties. The paper-thin fabric was drenched, and he almost came from the feel of her pulsing beneath his palm.
“How much did these panties cost?” He toyed with the flimsy straps at her hips.
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 84
