Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas

by Kennedy, Elle

  He hurried to the passenger side to open the door for her. When she smiled in thanks, his cheeks turned bright red again. He cleared his throat, quickly averting his eyes. “It’s, uh, too bad you won’t be able to visit the coast. There are some amazing beaches here.” He made a face as he slid into the driver’s seat. “There’s a lot of not-so-amazing places, too.”

  “Yeah, I know. I don’t have any illusions about what this trip is about.”

  “I know, but it’s still jarring,” he told her. “We were on our way to the Ulúa River the other day to run a training op with the local military and we drove through the most rundown town I’ve ever seen. All these children—I swear, I counted about thirty of them—swarmed our vehicles begging for food. The same thing happened in every town and village we passed through.”

  “That’s awful.”

  His expression darkened. “It’s even worse in the areas that are run by the maras. They take over entire towns, and you see these gang members and half of them are kids. Young fucking kids. Breaks your heart.”

  Jen barely glanced at their surroundings as the Jeep ventured away from the airstrip. Palm trees and lush green hills whizzed by, but she was too focused on the bleak picture Jamie was painting.

  “So your unit is here to train the Honduran military?”

  He nodded. “We’ve been making a lot of progress, I think. Helping the local army better defend itself against the escalating violence. This last while we’ve been running river patrols, showing them how to enforce the waterways, but the conflict with the maras is heating up, so that’s becoming a priority. That, and stopping the drug runners.”

  “This area didn’t used to have such a drug problem,” she remarked.

  “Yeah, well, with law enforcement cracking down on the Mexican cartels, a lot of them are moving their operations south.”

  Jamie was more talkative than she’d expected, with a candid openness that Jen didn’t usually find in the tight-lipped SEAL community. Cash wasn’t able to talk to her about his missions—hell, he probably wouldn’t even if he could—but Jamie Holbrook was a wealth of information.

  It didn’t take long to reach the local military base where Jen would be staying, but it took forever to get inside it. They drove through several checkpoints, where she had to hand over her press credentials at each one then wait while the guards verified her identity.

  “You’ll be bunking in a single near the women’s barracks,” Jamie told her when they cleared the last checkpoint. “There’s a supply run to Guera in an hour. I’ll be accompanying you for that.”

  “The army is delivering supplies to the village? Military supplies?”

  “No, they’re providing protection for the Global Aid Foundation. The GA folks bring food and medicine to Guera once a month, but there’s been some trouble lately with the mara escorpión—local gang called the Scorpions, a real pain in the ass. They’ve taken to robbing the GA trucks. They ambushed last month’s shipment, so we’re there to make sure the supplies arrive safely and wind up in the right hands.”

  The mention of the ambush sparked Jen’s panic. “Has your unit ever been ambushed?”

  He shook his head. “The maras usually stay away when they see the military. So far they’ve only attacked civilians, usually aid workers or medical staff. The relief personnel are starting to carry weapons now, but a lot of them still aren’t comfortable making runs without a military escort.”

  He parked the Jeep in front of a large gray building. “You need to check in with Captain Reynolds, and then I’ll take you to your bunk to drop off your stuff. After that you’ll report to Sergeant Carrieri and he’ll outfit you with a ballistic vest and combat helmet.”

  She froze. “Is that really necessary? My editor said the villages I’m going to are relatively safe.”

  Jamie’s expression went grave. “Relatively safe? Yes. Completely safe? No.” His tone softened when he glimpsed her face. “Look, we’re not anticipating any trouble, but we still need to take precautions.”

  She nodded weakly, a sliver of fear piercing her spine.

  In that moment, she suddenly understood why Cash had been so determined not to let her go.

  5

  “Relax, man. You’re making me nervous pacing like that,” Seth grumbled from the couch.

  Cash ignored his teammate and continued to wear a hole in the carpet. The thought of going back to his empty apartment after the day’s training had been depressing, so he’d invited himself over to Seth’s place, but the worry gnawing at his gut refused to let up. It felt like Jen was all the way on the other side of the world, rather than a measly five hours south of him, but Honduras might as well have been a different planet. San Diego was safe. She was safe in it. But she wasn’t here. She was in Central fucking America, surrounded by drug violence and gangs and a local military that couldn’t even protect its own borders.

  She’s fine. She told you so herself.

  Yeah, hours ago. Jen texted to let him know she’d landed safely, then left him a message an hour later saying she was heading to the first village with her military escort. He hadn’t heard a peep since then and he was climbing the walls not knowing if she was okay.

  “I’m serious, man. You’re freaking out the rugrats,” Seth said darkly.

  “No, he’s not!” eight-year-old Sophie Masterson piped up.

  “He’s fun to watch,” her twin brother Jason agreed.

  The children’s voices were a swift reminder of his surroundings. Crap, he really shouldn’t be pacing like a madman while Seth’s kids did their homework on the carpeted floor. Sophie was sprawled on her stomach, brown pigtails hanging over her small shoulders as she bent over her math book. Her brother was in a similar pose, but both kids were paying more attention to Cash than their notebooks.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. He collapsed on the sectional and raked both hands through his hair. “She only left this morning and I’m already worried sick, man.”

  “Welcome to my life.” Seth’s wife Miranda strode into the living room, catching the tail end of Cash’s confession. The brunette plopped onto her husband’s lap and gave Cash a knowing look. “What do you think Jen and I do when you guys are deployed?”

  The frank remark brought a rush of shame. He knew it was hard on Jen and the other wives and girlfriends when the team was OCONUS, but he’d always relied on the comforting fact that he’d found a woman strong enough to handle the long absences and constant worrying.

  Obviously he couldn’t say the same for himself. Every bone in his body ached with fear right now. The woman he loved might be in danger, and he didn’t feel strong at all. He’d almost tried to request leave earlier so he could fly down there and back her up, but he’d known Jen would be furious if he pulled a stunt like that.

  “It’s tough,” Miranda added when she noticed his expression. “But Jen will be fine, hon.”

  “What if she’s not? What if she gets hurt?”

  Sophie gasped. “Auntie Jen is hurt?”

  “No,” Cash said quickly. “She’s fine, kiddo.”

  “You promise?” the little girl demanded.

  “I promise.” He spoke past the lump obstructing his throat. “She just had to go out of town for work, and I miss her.”

  “I miss her, too,” Sophie announced.

  He had to smile. Up until a second ago, she hadn’t even known Jen was gone.

  Sophie sat up with a pout. “I want her to come over so we can play with makeup again.”

  “When were you and Aunt Jen putting on makeup?” Miranda inquired, narrowing her eyes.

  Her daughter instantly went shamefaced. “Um. Never. I lied. We didn’t do that.” When Miranda arched a brow, Sophie caved like a cheap tent. “We just put on lipstick, I swear! It was pink and pretty and I loved it. I made Aunt Jen promise not to tell you.”

  Miranda didn’t look too upset, and when Cash shot her an apologetic look, she flashed a wink, and he realized that Jen had indeed told her ab
out the makeup and Miranda was just teasing her daughter.

  Seth, on the other hand, wasn’t pleased in the slightest. “Why the fu—fudge are you putting on lipstick, young lady? I thought we agreed you were going to be a tomboy. We don’t want any boys to drool over you, remember?”

  “Boys are gross,” Sophie said matter-of-factly.

  “Hey,” Jason protested. “Girls are gross.”

  As the kids started bickering about who was grosser, the adults grinned at each other.

  “Quit arguing and finish your homework,” Miranda ordered. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”

  His cue to go. Cash knew he’d overstayed his welcome—he’d been forcing his presence on the Mastersons all afternoon—and he felt bad intruding on their family time.

  “I should take off,” he said, rising from the couch.

  “You’re not staying for dinner?” Miranda said.

  He shook his head. “Nah. I’m not much company tonight. I want to go home and wait for Jen’s call.”

  If she called.

  He banished the cynical thought, forcing himself to focus on the positives—he and Jen loved each other, and they always kept their promises. She said she’d call the second she got back from the village, and he had to trust that she’d keep her word, even though she hadn’t exactly left him on the best terms.

  He bumped his fist against Seth’s, kissed Miranda goodbye, and ruffled the twins’ heads, then left the townhouse and drove across the bridge into San Diego. Twenty minutes later he parked in the underground of his and Jen’s low-rise building.

  The two of them had been talking about finding a bigger place, and as he rode the elevator upstairs he entertained the idea again. If they got married, chances were they’d want to start a family soon, and they’d definitely need more room if that happened.

  That is, if Jen even wanted to start a family with him. Despite their tender goodbye that morning, he knew she was still upset with him. Hell, he was upset, too. Maybe he shouldn’t have responded to her news by barking orders at her, but she hadn’t even put it up for discussion, damn it. She’d decided that she was going, and to hell with what he thought.

  What if her next assignment was in the Middle East? In the middle of a war zone? Would she constantly disregard his opinion and do whatever the hell she wanted with no concern for her own safety or what it would do to their relationship?

  Cash strode into the apartment. He threw on a pair of sweatpants and heated up some leftovers, then ate on the couch, staring at his cell phone the entire time. It was seven o’clock, which meant it was eight in Honduras. Jen ought to be back by now.

  He swiped his phone off the coffee table, debating whether he should just call her himself, when the thing buzzed in his hand. He answered with an eager hello, and the second he heard her voice, the tension in his chest seeped away like water spiraling down a drain.

  “Hey, sorry I didn’t get a chance to call until now. I was having dinner in the mess hall with some of the guys.”

  Cash frowned. “The guys, huh? Well, feel free to tell them that if any of them hit on you they’ll have a bloodthirsty SEAL on their asses.”

  Melodic laughter tickled his ear. “Trust me, I told them all about the big bad SEAL I’m in love with.”

  His chest squeezed. Well, she still loved him. That was something.

  “Besides, none of them are interested in me like that,” she assured him. “They all treat me like I’m their little sister. Seriously, I’ve known these guys for less than a day and they’re already more overprotective than my dad.”

  He was glad to know that people were looking out for his woman, even if it was a bunch of jarheads. He leaned his head on the arm of the couch, relieved that she’d survived her first day without incident.

  “So how did it go today?”

  “Good.” Her tone grew rueful. “Well, not good. I mean, it was awful. You should have seen this village, Cash. All the houses were falling apart and there were all these children on the street begging for food. Most of them didn’t even have shoes on. And there was garbage and graffiti everywhere. Jamie—that’s the marine who’s watching out for me—he says it’s like that almost everywhere you go.”

  “Did you take a lot of pictures?”

  “Hundreds. We were helping a relief foundation drop off supplies at a local clinic, and I was able to meet some of the patients. There was a boy there who’d gotten his ear cut off by a gang member. He was recruited by the gang and they got pissed when he tried to run away. And we stopped at an abandoned building that used to be the distribution base for one of the cartels—the military cleared it out a few months ago.”

  She was painting a picture that Cash had seen a thousand times before when he was overseas. A part of him wished he could have shielded her from it, but Jen was no stranger to heartache and poverty. She’d sought it long before they’d met, when she’d traveled on her own to take photographs for her blog. He’d been upset when she’d told him what her previous side trips entailed. He hadn’t liked the idea of Jen, who radiated light, being surrounded by all that darkness. He still didn’t like it.

  “I got some heartbreaking shots,” she admitted. “I emailed them to Rick, and he’s already having trouble deciding what to use for the cover.”

  As they chatted more about her day, Cash found himself relaxing. She’d come out of that village with her skin intact, and he suddenly wondered if maybe he’d overreacted.

  “I hated leaving knowing you were angry with me,” she said.

  Her unexpected confession brought a pang of pain to his heart. “I hated that you left being angry with me.”

  “I can be pissed at you and still love you. You know that, right?”

  “Right back atcha, sweetheart.”

  There was a pause over the line. “Remember the last fight we got into?”

  Like he could forget. Sometimes he still jerked off to the memory of Jen’s flushed cheeks and blazing eyes as she railed into him for being an insensitive ass. She didn’t get angry often, but when she did…holy hell, she was sexy as fuck.

  “Of course I remember. It was the most irrational you’ve ever been,” he said cheerfully.

  A snort filled his ear. “I was not! You were a total jerk.”

  “Because I refused to take sides during your fight with your brother?”

  “You did take sides! You took his.”

  Cash grinned to himself. “Because Carson was right and you were wrong.”

  “Ugh. Forget it. I refuse to argue about this again.”

  “Hey, you brought it up,” he pointed out.

  “Only because I wanted to remind you of the angry sex we had that night.” He could practically see her smiling over the phone. “I’ll be home late tomorrow night. Will you wait up?”

  He was smiling, too. “For you? I’d wait forever.”

  She made an exasperated noise. “How am I supposed to stay angry at you when you say things like that?”

  * * *

  Jen’s second day on assignment began right before dawn. She stumbled out of bed and put on a tank top and cargo pants. Yesterday she’d worn jeans and a long-sleeved shirt—and she definitely wasn’t repeating that mistake. She’d quickly discovered that the thick Kevlar vest she was forced to wear was not just heavy, but it trapped in the heat and turned you into a sweat monster. And the combat helmet had stuck to her head and caused beads of moisture to slide down her neck all afternoon.

  She couldn’t stop yawning as she headed for the door. She needed caffeine, stat. But she’d slept well, and her phone call with Cash had definitely bolstered her spirits. She was still mad at him for acting like an overbearing ass and going to her father behind her back, but she couldn’t deny that hearing his voice brought her a lot of comfort.

  “Morning.” Jamie greeted her outside the mess hall, bushy-tailed and bright-eyed despite the ungodly hour. He was clad in his camo gear, his nose and cheeks red from the early-morning air.


  “Morning,” she grumbled as they went inside. “Is there a reason we’re leaving this early?”

  He nodded. “The situation in San Cortés is more unstable than it was in Guera. The gang there is the one responsible for the convoy ambushes I mentioned yesterday.”

  His words sparked alarm. “Are you expecting anything like that to happen?”

  “It’s unlikely. The Honduran army beefed up the military presence in the area since then, but it’s safer to go earlier than later.”

  “Makes sense.” Jen grabbed a croissant and a foam cup of coffee, scarfing down her breakfast and chugging caffeine as they headed out to the waiting Humvees.

  It was the same routine as the day before—she put on her bulletproof vest and helmet and got in the front seat between Jamie and Ortiz, the Honduran sergeant she’d met yesterday. Shadows bathed the landscape as they left the base. This time they were accompanied by a second Humvee consisting of more local soldiers and five marines from Jamie’s unit. The extra manpower worried her, but Jamie didn’t seem concerned, so she allowed herself to relax as they set out on the long drive west.

  They stopped only to pick up the Global Aid van that was carrying the medical supplies being delivered to San Cortés, and then they were back on the road, the two military vehicles protectively sandwiching the relief van.

  Two hours later, the convoy slowed as it entered the small town of San Cortés. It was larger than the village she’d seen yesterday, but the surroundings were far bleaker. Graffiti covered every inch of available space on the rundown houses and crumbling stone buildings, some of which looked like they’d topple over at any second.

  There was nobody on the streets—it was barely eight in the morning—but Jen saw signs of life as they neared the small marketplace on the edge of town. She spotted people hauling crates of fruit, merchants setting up their booths and getting ready for a day of selling and bartering.

  “Do the gang members bother the merchants?” she asked Jamie.