Smooth Moves

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Smooth Moves Page 4

by Marie Harte


  Not the way she felt for Cash, which still confused her. She felt attracted, annoyed, and disturbed that she thought about him at all, especially since he was her boss. Smith, her coworker, had the same rugged good looks, an amazing body, and an attitude that amused more than aggravated her. But she didn’t feel that same spark she felt for Gunnery Sergeant Annoying.

  “Why are you staring at me?” Smith growled.

  “Just wondering what crawled up your ass and died.”

  He smirked. She grinned.

  “I like doing my job. Didn’t know I needed to talk about it.”

  “You don’t. But it wouldn’t hurt you to say more than ‘on your left’ when you pass by. You could say, ‘Gee, Jordan. You’re super efficient. Mind if I watch and learn?’ See, that would be nice. Or you could just grunt hello and goodbye instead of disappearing like a ghost.”

  “You want me. I knew it.” He sighed.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Women get chatty when they want some of me. I can’t help being this fine. But, honey, I’m too much for a sweet thing like you to handle.”

  That was more than Smith had said at once in all the time she’d known him. Had she wanted him to be more chatty?

  “You know what? Don’t talk.”

  He grunted.

  She turned up the music, and they listened to alternative rock on the drive back.

  It surprised her when Smith spoke again. “You like Cash, don’t you?”

  “He’s okay for a boss.”

  Smith sneered. “He’s an asshole playing at being ‘one of the guys.’ How can you stand him?”

  She’d wondered at the hostility she’d sensed from Smith toward Cash and sometimes Reid. But he’d never said anything about either one of them before. “If you hate Cash so much, why work for him?” To be honest, Cash insisted they worked for Reid and Evan. The movers worked with Cash, as far as Cash was concerned.

  She didn’t know why he continued to make the distinction, but it seemed important to him that everyone agree. And since he never acted superior, just led by example, she humored him.

  “I need the job,” Smith said and went back to being quiet. After another quarter hour in standstill traffic, he asked, “What about Reid? He’s a douche, but not as bad, right?”

  She blew out a breath. “Look, Smith. I like working for Vets on the Go! It’s not something I’ll do forever, but it’s a job I can honestly be proud of. I enjoy my coworkers—usually.” She glared at him, uncaring that he glared back. “If you’re just going to bitch, keep it to yourself or quit. It’s exhausting enough working all day moving heavy crap. Having to listen to you complain about the job is torture. Shut up, move on, or deal with Cash and Reid on your issues, okay?”

  He shut up until they’d parked the van in the warehouse. “Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of direct?”

  “What clued you in?”

  “I like that.” He actually smiled at her, and wow, did a smile on his face make a huge difference. “Okay, no more comments about our fuckhead bosses.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Want to grab a beer?”

  A surprising invitation. She almost took him up on it, wanting to know a little more about Smith Ramsey. But she spotted Cash going up the stairs. “Raincheck?”

  “Sure.” He nodded and left to finish with the paperwork and hang up the keys.

  Jordan darted up the stairs after Cash. The moving office consisted of a large warehouse to accommodate their moving vans, a gigantic space they shared with a neighboring bakery’s trucks, and an upstairs office. The second floor of the building was home to a clothing store, watch repair shop, computer repair shop, and, at the end of the hall, Vets on the Go!

  She followed the sound of Cash’s low rumble midway down the hall on the left, where the lady who worked at the vintage clothing store stood talking to him by her door. Jordan had been interested to see what Miriam’s Modiste offered, but the shop kept weird hours, and she’d never managed to catch the place when open.

  The lady talking to Cash wore a long, clingy dress, making her look taller than what couldn’t have been more than five feet, and that was in heels. A middle-aged woman with dark hair and thick black glasses, she had a lush frame. Cash, to his credit, hadn’t looked below her chin, though he did seem a little tense.

  Jordan neared to overhear the woman asking, “Are you sure? I can pay you. You’d be more than stimulating for my clients.”

  Cash noticed Jordan, and a look of relief washed over his face. “I really can’t, Miriam. Jordan wouldn’t like it.”

  “She’s not very enlightened then, is she?” Miriam turned to study Jordan’s approach.

  Curious, Jordan stopped by Cash’s side and smiled. “Hello. I’m Jordan. I work for Vets on the Go! So, you’re Miriam. Is this your store? I’ve been dying to check it out.”

  “I am, and it is.” Miriam beamed, her bright blue eyes sharp behind her lenses. “We’re not only a vintage clothing store. We offer classes on female empowerment to assert the feminine perspective in a world largely dominated by men.”

  Jordan didn’t know what to say, but she had a feeling she should say something. “Interesting.” Next to her, Cash took a step back, but Jordan latched onto his wrist to prevent his escape. “Hold on, Cash. I need to talk to you.”

  He sighed. Loudly. But he stayed put. The sly look he gave her warned her to beware as he said, “You know, Miriam, even though Jordan probably wouldn’t like me involving myself in your classes, I bet she’d get a lot out of them.”

  “Hmm.” Miriam looked her over, and Jordan was dying to know what the classes involved. Something weird because Cash had a suspicious gleam in his eye.

  “What exactly do you teach?” Jordan asked.

  Miriam puffed up. “I instruct women in truly embracing and accepting what it means to be a woman. We reach for our full potential by expressing ourselves intellectually and emotionally through physicality. I call it a stimulation of the senses in their entirety.”

  Sounded like more of Seattle’s alternative thought processes that frankly gave Jordan a headache. But she liked the idea of embracing her own inner power. How often had she been talked down to, working in a male-dominated environment like the Army? Maybe she’d give it a shot. “When are your classes?”

  “We have one later tonight.”

  “Oh, I can’t tonight. I have to get home.”

  “We also offer weekend sessions. Would you like to come this Saturday? We have a new rotation starting. It’s an advanced class, but it would give you an idea of what we do. You could try our first class for free to see if you like it.”

  Cash stood way too still, his expression one of guarded amusement.

  She didn’t care. She’d take the unspoken dare and come out on top. After giving him a look, she answered, “Sure. I’d like that.”

  “Great. Nine o’clock Saturday morning, right here.” Miriam shook Jordan’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, dear.”

  “You too.” After Miriam went back into her store, Jordan turned to Cash. “Why won’t you help with her class? Female empowerment sounds positive. Don’t tell me it insults your over-the-top manliness?” She felt left out of the joke when he laughed.

  “Oh God. Please let me watch Saturday morning.”

  “Sounded like a woman-only kind of thing.” She frowned. “And why bring up my name to get out of helping her? What do I have to do with it?”

  Cash shrugged. “Hell. I’ll admit it. I panicked. I might have let her have the impression you and I are involved and that you wouldn’t want me helping out.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Never mind.” He turned and walked away.

  “Hold on.” She had to chase him down the hall, the way he ate up the corridor with those long legs. “You lied, used my name to
get out of work. You owe me.”

  He stopped so suddenly she barreled into his broad back. “I owe you?”

  “Yes. And it just so happens I need your help.”

  He turned and raised a brow, appearing uncannily like Smith at that moment, even more so than he looked like Reid. “Oh?”

  She started to reply but stopped when Smith joined them.

  “Slumming?” he asked her, giving Cash a dismissive once-over.

  “Smith,” she warned.

  Cash gritted his teeth, and Smith chuckled, then asked, “Is Reid in?”

  “How the hell would I know?” Cash answered at the same time Jordan said, “He’s supposed to be.”

  Smith left them, and Cash glared at Smith’s back until he disappeared into the office. “I hate that guy.”

  “I think the feeling is mutual.” She wondered why.

  “Has he been bothering you?” The look in Cash’s dark-green eyes warned her the man spoiled for a fight.

  “Nope. He’s easy to get along with.”

  Cash seemed disappointed. “Oh.”

  “And he rarely talks. We got the Jasper job done in one day. Would have been back sooner, but traffic sucked.”

  He let out a long sigh. “So what’s this favor I ‘owe you’?”

  “I need you to talk to my brother.” The admission she couldn’t handle her own family felt easier while looking at his chest.

  “Your brother?”

  She glanced up, saw his interest, the way it lit up his face, and did her best not to stare at his firm, kissable lips. Damn it. She needed to focus on the man’s irritability, not his sex appeal.

  Jordan swallowed. “How about I tell you about it over dinner tonight? And before you get any weird ideas, this is in no way a date. I do not want to have sex with you. I am not flirting or leading you on in any way. This is strictly to help my brother.”

  He just stared at her. Unfortunately, behind him, Reid and Smith stared at her as well.

  She felt her cheeks heat and wished she could sink through the floor.

  “Man, I heard that,” Smith just had to say. “She in no way, shape, or form wants you, Cash. Not fucking at all.” Smith laughed as he walked away. His shouted “Rejected,” followed by more laughter, boomed down the corridor.

  “Please tell me I can hit him,” he said to Reid.

  “No. But I’m curious to hear why Jordan thinks she has to have this conversation with you,” Reid said. Jordan privately thought of him as Cash-Light. He had the same good looks but not as concentrated. Reid had a more slender build than his bulky older brother, and he had gray eyes. Not the mysterious, deep green of Cash’s. The debonair Griffith as opposed to Cash’s raw, wild bad boy.

  “I’m not harassing her. Jesus, Reid.” Cash ran a hand through his hair, which caused his massive biceps to bulge. “Tell him, Jordan.”

  A sucker for a pretty body more than a pretty face, every time Jordan looked at Cash she felt as if she’d been hit by a two-by-four because he possessed both. She nodded, distracted, wondering how much he could really bench-press.

  “He is harassing you?” Reid asked, frowning.

  “What? No, not at all.” She felt like a moron and forced herself to meet Reid’s concerned gaze. “Sorry. I meant I agreed with Cash. He’s fine. I just wanted to make sure my offer of dinner wasn’t confusing.” She wryly added, “You know your brother does better when things are laid out on the table.”

  “True. Subtle he is not.”

  “I’m right here,” Cash growled.

  They both ignored him. “So you’re good then?” Reid asked her.

  “Dandy.”

  “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow. Cash, I’ll be—”

  “At Naomi’s. Shocker.” Cash shrugged, but Jordan had a sense his brother’s new relationship bothered him.

  Reid didn’t seem to notice. “Have a good night, you two.” He started down the corridor. “Oh, and Cash, close up for me, would you?” Reid didn’t wait for his answer as he disappeared into the stairway.

  “Why not? Not like I have a life or anything,” Cash muttered as he walked into the office. “Well? You coming?”

  Jordan hurried after him and helped him turn everything off and lock up. They walked down the stairs and exited the building to the parking lot. She took a moment to watch the sun hide behind some purple clouds. Orange rays penetrated the sky-blue horizon and dotted through indigo and pink clouds, painting a picture. She wished she could bask in the moment, letting go of the worries dragging her down.

  But Rafi hadn’t been around for breakfast this morning, and she knew he’d avoided her on purpose. Between yesterday’s conversation and the call she’d earlier received from his school advisor, she’d come to the end of her rope. And the timing couldn’t have been better, with her brother spending the next few days at their parents’ for a change.

  Cash stopped at his car and turned to her. “Your place for dinner?”

  “Yes. Follow me. It’s a ten-minute drive. I’ll text you the address in case you get lost.” She sent it to him before getting into her car.

  He followed without too much of a hassle since the hour had passed six. Once at her place, she parked and waited for him. The apartment complex didn’t look like much on the outside, but she had a furnished, one-bedroom unit for under a thousand in rent, and the landlord seemed like a nice lady. Since Jordan was ex-military, the woman had foregone the $200 nonrefundable cleaning fee and full rental deposit.

  After letting them both in, Jordan took a glance around. The addition of Rafi to her tiny apartment made life cramped, but Jordan had lived under worse conditions. The place was clean, fitted out, and, if not to her taste, at least nothing to be embarrassed about. Yet she felt a case of nerves as Cash shadowed her, his large presence impossible to ignore.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about Rafi tonight. Four more days of peace before the turmoil that was her brother returned.

  She shut and locked the door then removed her shoes.

  “Take ’em off,” she said to him when he watched her.

  He grunted but didn’t argue. As he struggled with his laces, she walked past the entrance to the living room and turned into the small kitchen. Bordered on three sides by cabinets, a refrigerator, and oven, the open concept layout included the living area, where a small table marked the dining space. She’d put leaves in it, allowing for more room.

  With Cash’s size, he’d appreciate the space.

  She took the casserole she’d prepared earlier that morning from the fridge.

  Cash entered, making her kitchen feel ten times smaller. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Ham and cheese noodle casserole.”

  “Sounds awesome.” He glanced around, seeing her pine cabinets, tan Formica countertop, and mismatched white and black appliances. She found everything to be functional, so she couldn’t complain. The oversized furniture had been in fashion in the early nineties, but it seemed clean and smelled nice. A good place to start until she figured out what she wanted to be when she grew up.

  The notion she neared thirty and still needed direction irritated the hardcore soldier still within her.

  “You’re tidy.” Cash nodded. “I knew you’d be.”

  “Yep.”

  Rafi’s things no longer littered the living space, the items now tucked away in the corner in the duffel bag containing his clothes. He’d taken his laptop, she noticed, and hoped he’d use the time with their parents to catch up on some schoolwork.

  Yeah, right.

  She shook her head at her delusions and put the casserole in the oven, allowing a little extra time for the oven to preheat. “Want something to drink?”

  Cash tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall, watching her. “What do you have?”

  She opened
the refrigerator. “Beer, water, an energy drink, and milk.”

  “Beer. But only if it’s not some bullshit light beer.”

  She flipped him off and handed him a local IPA.

  He grinned and accepted it. Unfortunately their fingers touched, and she hurriedly dragged her hand back, ignoring the spark of heat that followed the slight contact.

  His grin faded, but he made no mention of the exchange. Probably didn’t feel it the way she had, but whatever. She needed his help, not his unwanted attention. Unwanted? Liar.

  She grabbed a beer for herself, opened it, and took a long drag. When she finished, she saw him staring at her. “What?”

  He looked flushed, which was weird, and took a sip of his own. “Nothing.”

  She nodded to the table, and they sat across from each other. With Rafi, the table seemed plenty large with the leaf in it. With Cash, she felt too close to the man. Time to stop dwelling on his looks and get to the point. “I need your help.”

  He held up a hand. “Before you start, this ‘I owe you a favor’ bullshit isn’t working for me. You want my help? You gotta give me something back.”

  “I’m giving you dinner right now.” She eyed him with suspicion, and he laughed. “What’s so funny?”

  “The look on your face.” He took another sip of beer, looking full-out relaxed. “The dinner’s a start, but it’s not what I need. Now hold on. I’m not after your virginity, sweetcakes.” He chuckled at the second finger she shot him. “I need your help packing up my mom’s place.”

  She knew his mother had passed away not long ago. “Oh, sure.” That had to be tough.

  He frowned.

  “Now what?”

  “That was awfully easy. What exactly do you want me to do with your brother?”

 

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