by Marie Harte
Jordan sighed. “I need your help getting him to see his mistakes, and I can’t think of who else to ask.”
His expression grew serious. “What do you need?”
She’d expected a few wisecracks, some dig about her being unable to handle the male mind. But he didn’t do either.
“Rafi’s become a real—”
“Wait. Rafi? He’s your brother?”
She didn’t understand. “Who else am I talking about? I only have one brother.”
Cash relaxed even more. “Sorry. Go on.”
She explained about the teenager’s recent failure at school, his rebellious attitude, and him falling in with the wrong crowd. And about her parents dumping everything in her lap. “I know he’s young. Hell, I went through the same things at his age. Though to be honest, I at least knew to get through high school. Rafi’s a lot more aggressive than I was back then. Must be all that testosterone going through his pubescent body.” Just thinking that made her ill. Puberty. What a crappy time of life.
“He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” Cash asked, his voice quiet.
“What? Hurt me? Hell no. He’d wouldn’t even think about hitting me.” She paused, smirking. “Not that I’d ever let him—or anyone—try.”
“Good.” Cash finished off his beer. When she stood to get him another one, he waved her to sit.
“I’ll get it.” When he rejoined her, he asked, “So what do you want me to do?”
God, he looked good. No, no. She had to stop staring at the strong line of his throat and square jaw, to ignore the overwhelming masculinity in that body. Jordan had never been bowled over by a man before. But something about Cash called to her.
“I, um…” She coughed to gather her thoughts and sound halfway intelligent. Cash had women falling all over themselves for him at any given time. She’d be damned if she’d be one of them. “I’ve heard you and Reid talk about what a pain you were growing up.” She continued over his scowl, “And I thought you could help Rafi, talk to him man-to-man about getting through the teenage years. I don’t know if he’s ignoring me because I’m a girl or because I’m his sister, but I’m really worried about him.”
“Is the crowd he’s hanging with all that bad?”
“I don’t know. They seem mostly harmless, though there’s one kid who’s not that great. Juan something. It’s nothing terrible, really. Mostly minor, rebellious things. Bad grades, talking back. Though the prank putting firecrackers in the boys’ bathroom was inspired,” she said drily. “I don’t think he’d have done it on his own, but he refused to rat anyone out, taking the full blame himself.”
“Good kid.”
She’d thought so too, even if being silent hadn’t helped him. Jordan praised loyalty, but Rafi should know better than to damage school property. “He seems to have no drive, just a need to lose himself in video games. He needs a hobby. Real friends. Something.”
“High school is hard. I never got on well with my parents. And I was on a real road to self-destruction.”
“What made you change direction?” Curiosity drove her to know more about Cash. She told herself it was just for her brother, but Jordan knew it was more than that.
“Reid needed me. That helped. Plus, I just wanted to escape. It seems like your parents care enough to try going the tough love route. And he’s got you.”
“Yeah. We all care. But I seem to be the only one who cares about making his life better, not just improving my own by sending him away.”
After a moment, Cash smiled. The look he gave her softened somehow. “You’re a good big sister.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you are. You’re taking care of his sorry ass whether he wants it or not. You could just dump him back on your parents.”
“Then they’ll just put him in that academy for screwups.” Let’s call it what it is. “And my sister is no help, so intent on her upcoming wedding and her own life she’s never seen the rest of the world as anything but something to serve her.” Jordan heard the bitterness but couldn’t censor it in time.
“Whoa. Now those are some family problems.” Cash leaned forward. “Tell me more.”
She had to laugh. “What is with you and drama? Between you and Heidi—oh, and Hector, don’t think I haven’t seen him egging you on for episode recaps—those train-wreck shows on TV take up a lot of talk at work.”
He shrugged. “Maybe it’s because it’s not my life that’s so fucked up. I don’t know. I guess I get a kick out of watching other people act stupid. It’s funny. Plus I don’t think even half of it is real.”
“That makes sense. Probably why people are so into reality TV and the old soaps. It lets you escape from life, you know?”
A shadow seemed to pass over his face. But he smiled, and she wondered if she’d imagined it.
He studied her. “You never seem up-to-date on quality TV.”
“No, I have you and Heidi for that.”
“What do you do for fun, Jordan? Besides moving other people’s stuff and watching your brother? Oh, and aggravating me. I forgot that.”
Hearing her name on his lips made her feel tingly inside, and she hated the moment of feminine awareness. She couldn’t wait to take Miriam’s empowerment class on Saturday. Time to own her insanity and stop yearning for something Cash would likely not have in him to give.
She pasted a smile on her face. “Aggravating you does make life worth living.” She had to laugh at the face he made. “Oh, I have a life. I just like to keep it separate from work.”
“Yeah? What’s so special you keep it a secret?” Cash paused, his gaze intent. “Some guy you’re afraid to tell me about?”
She just stared, confused, because Cash sounded almost…jealous. But that couldn’t be.
Could it?
Chapter 4
Cash wanted to take back the words as soon as he said them because he didn’t want to know about Jordan’s love life. He especially didn’t want to know that she had a significant other. For some reason, knowing she might share some part of herself with someone other than him grated.
She frowned at him. “My relationship status is none of your business.”
Man, when she grew agitated, her brown eyes burned with fire. He’d swear they lightened, and he had a powerful urge to watch them cloud with lust while he—
He cleared his throat. “Well, now. It might be. What if this guy you’re seeing is messing with Rafi’s head? Kids, especially young men, can be defensive about the women in their lives.”
She huffed at him. “Please. Rafi’s not like that.”
“Did you or did you not come to me for help?” He finished his second beer and decided to shift to water. The last thing he needed was to cloud his mind with alcohol and let loose the impulse to drag Jordan off to her bedroom and test out her mattress.
“For God’s sake. There is no man in my life. Happy now?”
Yes. “Hey, it’s not about making me happy. Although…you want to make me happy? Give me some of that mouthwatering thing cooking in the oven. Because it smells damn good.”
She grinned. “It is. I can cook, you know.”
“I can’t.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Cash watched her fiddle in the kitchen. She returned with a plate of cheese and crackers, olives, and a bowl of pretzels. He looked at her.
“Beer food. Figured the cheese and crackers might be too fancy and throw you off.”
“Brat.” He shook his head and dug in, famished. Jordan watched him before joining in, shoving his fingers out of the way when he took her olive. Damn, but she made him laugh. She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty, at work or at home, apparently.
As they snacked, they talked about work and Reid and Naomi, speculated about what Heidi did in her spare time—bench-press Humvees was his guess—and
discussed Lafayette’s new boyfriend.
“Hector likes him.” Jordan nibbled some cheese, and it took work to stop thinking of her nibbling on him. “I haven’t met him yet. Have you?”
“Not yet. I think Lafayette is afraid I might scare the guy.” Cash smiled, glad that Lafayette and Hector had signed on with Vets on the Go! He considered the guys true friends, and he didn’t have many of those. “That, or he’s afraid I’ll steal him away with my amazing looks.” He pumped his arm, teasing, and saw Jordan give his muscles a thorough inspection.
Did she like his looks? He hoped so. Not that he worked out to impress women, but it never seemed to hurt. And considering he didn’t have all that much else going for him, he had to play to his strengths. Jordan, though, didn’t react to him the way other women did. Perhaps that was what attracted him to her. That inability to predict her reactions.
“So what about you?” she asked him after they’d spent a few quiet moments stuffing their faces. She had great taste in cheese. “Am I getting you in trouble with your girlfriend for being at my place unsupervised?”
He swallowed down a big piece before laughing. “Hell, no. I answer to no woman.”
“That’s mighty progressive of you, Conan.”
He really liked the little smartass. Problem was, it would be easier to deal with Jordan as nothing more than a coworker if she didn’t sport such an amazing body. She had a streamlined, athletic build. All muscle and soft skin, but she was a grown woman with the right curves to have him sitting up and taking notice.
As usual, just being around her heated his blood. The woman wore long jean shorts and her work tee, and he still wanted to bend her over and do her until neither one of them could walk.
“What is that look?” She leaned closer, and he saw golden-brown striations mixing with the mahogany of her irises. Her pert nose and full lips made her both cute and sexy. And the creamy tan of her skin tantalized him to touch.
He blinked, horrified to feel an erection pressing against the fly of his jeans. As he did his best to think about something else, the oven beeped, drawing her attention.
Thank you, Jesus.
She moved away to get their dinner, giving him a minute to calm himself down and come up with some lame excuse for staring at her like a lovesick asshole. “Sorry if I was staring. I’m just not used to being around you when you’re pleasant.”
“Funny. You do know I can poison your food and you won’t know it until it’s too late?”
“A risk I’m willing to take.” His mouth watered as he watched her bring him a heaping plate of her casserole. Proud of himself for not falling on it and devouring his dinner before she’d had a chance to sit down, he waited until she sat and took a bite herself. Then he bit into the most decadent macaroni he’d ever had. The meat was almost an afterthought, and Cash had always been a huge meat guy.
“You like it?” She watched him.
He nodded and swallowed a heavenly mouthful. “Oh my God. This is best thing I’ve ever had.” He didn’t wait to see if she liked his compliment before falling on his food with complete abandon. He didn’t come up for air until he’d scraped his plate clean and licked his fork.
When he did glance up, he saw her staring at him. Embarrassed, he apologized. “Sorry. I missed lunch today, and I haven’t had anything this good in forever. Reid can’t cook either, and the few meals Naomi has made were good but nowhere near this.”
He saw her pleasure, and it warmed him to know he’d earned that shy smile.
Shy? Jordan? He blinked, stunned to see another side to the mouthy woman who didn’t take any of his crap.
“I like to cook, but I haven’t had anyone to cook for but Rafi since I got out four months ago. And before that it had been a good year since I’d been dating.”
He didn’t believe it. “No husband, fiancé, boyfriend?”
“Nope. And no lasting boyfriends during my time in the Army. You know how it is. It’s hard.” She shrugged and ate with manners, reminding him to do the same.
Still, something didn’t seem right. Jordan was fucking awesome. How could she still be single? And why did that matter so much? He focused on his plate. “You mind if I get more?”
She moved to stand, and he waved her back. “I’ll get it. You eat. You’re too tiny as it is.” He ignored her glare and got himself another huge helping. If she’d fixed dessert, he might have to break down and marry her.
A joke, but something about that thought stunned him enough to have him freeze his fork by his mouth.
“Cash?”
He shrugged the foolishness away and ate at a much slower, more mannerly pace. “If you’d have fed me first then asked for my help with your brother, there’s no way I could have said no.”
“You didn’t say no.”
“But I did ask you to help me at my mom’s.” He sighed. “I won’t take it back, but damn, girl, I’m willing to trade you anything if you’ll cook for me again.”
She laughed. “You really are easy to please. Who knew?”
“That’s classified. You can never tell.”
Jordan snorted. “Who’d believe me if I did?”
“Have I called you a brat lately?”
“I believe you did.”
“Trust me, sweetcakes. It fits.” He loved how red her cheeks got when he called her pet names. Such an adorable bundle of rage.
“You know what else I bet fits? Your head up your ass. Keep it up and we’ll see before the night’s over.”
He choked on laughter and had to drink his water to breathe again. But it was worth it, especially when Jordan broke out a homemade cherry pie.
* * *
Jordan dared him to be mouthy again, holding a slice of pie in front of him. Cash had fallen on her food as if the Russians were coming, and nothing could have pleased her more. Call her old-fashioned, but Jordan liked cooking for more than just herself. Especially for someone who appreciated it. She was an independent woman who’d made her place in the world all by herself. She was single by choice, and she had no problem indulging in casual sex when the mood struck.
So it had always surprised her to find she took after her mother when it came to relationships. Maria Younger liked to coddle Carl, the same way she’d taken care of Jordan’s father. Jordan took pleasure in cooking for, cleaning up after, and generally sharing herself with her boyfriends.
She’d dated some nice guys, but timing and her work in the Army had made commitments tough to keep. Had she found someone who truly clicked with her, she’d have changed a few of her decisions. But no one had pressed all her buttons, not like…not like the man she did not consider anything more than a friend and coworker.
Yes, she’d made her best dish to persuade Cash to help her brother. And, yes, she’d made a cherry pie for dessert because she knew it was his favorite but also to seal the deal concerning Rafi.
If only she could stop thinking about Cash in any non-platonic kind of way. She had intelligence, yet lately she seemed to be thinking with her ovaries and not her brain.
“Seriously. I have no idea why you’re not married right now. You’re cute, and you can cook.” Cash finished his slice of pie and sat back, patting his washboard of a stomach. “Oh, that’s right. You’re mouthy. Forgot about that.” His eyes sparkled, as if he enjoyed their verbal sparring as much as she did.
Quietly, and just to screw with him, she said, “Maybe I was married and my husband cheated on me. Maybe he took my kids away from me. Maybe he wasn’t the man I thought he was.”
Cash looked suddenly angry. “Are you kidding me?”
Fascinated that his moods vacillated from happy to angry in the span of a heartbeat, she kicked back and put her hands behind her head. “Yes, I am kidding you. As if I’d let some asshole steal my kids…when I have any.” She huffed. “And just maybe, jackass, I don’t want to
get married. This is why you should never assume.”
He paused, started to say something, then broke out in laughter. He laughed so hard he cried, and she couldn’t help grinning with him.
“Fuck. No wonder I like you so much. You’re worse than I am when it comes to getting under somebody’s skin.”
“Thanks a lot.” Not exactly flattered, she stood to clear their plates then started to run the water.
Cash suddenly stood behind her in her tiny kitchen. He turned her around, too close for comfort. “Hey, now.” He wiped his eyes, but a hand remained on her shoulder, burning through the cotton of her T-shirt. “I’m kidding. Lighten up, Fleming.”
She looked from his hand on her shoulder up to his darkening eyes.
His gaze changed, the focus no longer on her face but somehow on her mouth. His breathing quickened. So did hers.
“S-so you’ll help me with Rafi, and I’ll help you pack.” Great. Now she couldn’t look away from his mouth. Such firm lips, so full and pretty yet masculine. Weird.
To her consternation, her nipples hardened.
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed absently. Then the sexy jerk rubbed a thick, callused finger over her lips.
She sucked in a breath.
“Shit. Okay, we’re just gonna do this once because I can’t fucking wait another minute wondering.”
She licked her lips, and his eyes narrowed. “Wondering what?” she asked, sounding weak, feeling like a limp noodle under his strong hands.
“What you taste like.” He lowered his face slowly, taking his time and giving her every chance to pull away.
“Damn it, you’re taking too long,” she groused and yanked him down to her.
The first taste of him knocked her world off its axis. He tasted sweet, a mixture of cherries and man and sex combining to send her heart into a race it might not finish.
He groaned and lifted her in his arms, their mouths still melded, the full-body hug turning her on like a drug. He settled her on the counter, his hands clasped on either side of her hips, and angled himself between her legs.