Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 1-3

by Kennedy, Elle

  Surprise washed over her face. Surprise, not horror or regret, which was always a good sign. The receptive look in her eyes spurred him to go on.

  “I know how you feel about the military life, but I don’t think you want this to end either.” He reached for her hand, a little embarrassed to discover his fingers were trembling. “We’re good together, sweetheart, and it’s not just the sex. I’ve never been able to talk to a woman the way I can talk to you. I love talking to you, actually. I love your sense of humor, I love how big your heart is, I love everything about you.” He let out a curse. “Ah, fuck, I’m just going to say it, okay? I love you.”

  She stared at him with wide eyes.

  “I love you, Jen,” he repeated. “This isn’t a fling for me anymore. It’s so much more.”

  As his speech came to a close, Cash studied her face and waited for a response. A word. A smile. A squeeze of the hand. Anything would have sufficed, but the longer her silence dragged on, the unhappier he grew.

  He’d only ever said those three words to one other girl. Brooke Pollack, who he’d dated in high school. And unlike Jen, Brooke had actually returned the sentiment.

  A knot of pain twisted his insides. Fuck, he was such an idiot. He’d really believed they could have more than a fling, but clearly he’d been wrong. Jen wasn’t even looking at him, and she kept gnawing on her bottom lip the way she always did when she was upset.

  “I get it,” he muttered, dropping her hand. “That’s not what you wanted to hear.” He started to get up. “I’m sorry if—”

  “I love you too.”

  His butt landed back on the couch cushions. “You do?”

  Her blue eyes glimmered with certainty. “I love you, and I want to be with you too. I don’t care if it’s full-time or part-time or even if I only see you one day every other month—I’ll take you any way I can get you.”

  Cash gawked at her. Probably not the most macho reaction, or the appropriate one, but now it was his turn to sit in stunned silence. He hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect from this heart-to-heart. Rejection had topped the expectation list. Maybe some resistance.

  But a straight-up I love you too? Nope, hadn’t seen that coming.

  Why the hell are you sitting here analyzing when you should be kissing the girl?

  Good fucking point.

  Snapping out of his stupefied state, he thrust a hand in Jen’s silky hair and yanked her mouth to his, swallowing her startled squeak with his kiss. Long, deep, passionate. The kiss dampened his palms and quickened his pulse, and when their mouths broke free, the look of joy on Jen’s face nearly had him doing a happy little fist pump.

  But then her eyes narrowed. “I know what you did, by the way.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Going behind my back and giving Jane my pictures?” she prompted.

  Guilt slithered up his throat and formed a big lump. “I can’t believe Jane told you. She promised—”

  “Don’t be mad at her. It just sorta slipped out, and I’m actually really glad she said something.” Jen smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not angry at you. I know you were only trying to help, and thanks to you I have a shot at a freelance position with a great magazine.” Her voice wobbled. “You believed in me, Cash. Nobody’s ever believed in me before.”

  “You have a shot because of you. I might have given Jane the photos, but you were the one who took them. You deserve this.” He had to chuckle. “But please, can I be there when you tell your mom and the admiral that your waste-of-time hobby has officially become your career?”

  “Wait, you’re volunteering to be in the admiral’s company again? Wow, you must really love me.”

  “I must really love you,” he said huskily. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

  “I know.” She swept her fingers over his jaw, her gentle touch making him shiver. “And I’d do anything for you, cowboy, even throw my dating rulebook out the window to be with you.”

  Cash searched her face. “Are you sure about this? Can you really handle the whole military thing?”

  For a second, uncertainty flickered in her eyes, but then it faded into a gleam of sincerity. “I have to believe we can do it. I know we’ll have to work hard on this relationship, and I can’t promise that I won’t be a bundle of nerves every time you go away, but—”

  His cell phone chimed.

  “Perfect timing,” he said wryly. He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. Son of a bitch.

  Next to him, Jen stiffened. “You need to answer it?”

  “Yeah,” he said grimly.

  Rising from the couch, he took the call and listened to Becker’s brusque orders, while Jen stayed seated and watched him unhappily.

  After he hung up, he couldn’t control the frustrated breath that escaped his mouth. “I have to report to the base.”

  The corners of her mouth strained.

  Cash waited for it. The big one-eighty. The moment when she said, Fuck, I can’t do this after all. I can’t wait around for you.

  But the rebuff didn’t come. Instead, Jen staggered to her feet and approached him. “It’s okay,” she murmured, resting her cheek against his collarbone. “I can do this, Cash.”

  He cradled the back of her head and tipped it so he could study her expression. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Now, go.” She swallowed hard. “Call me if you can, and if you can’t, that’s okay. I’ll be waiting right here when you come home.”

  Cash’s chest clenched. “You promise?”

  “I promise, cowboy.”

  * * *

  He’ll be just fine.

  Those four syllables had become Jen’s personal catchphrase. Ever since Cash had left, she’d been twisted up in knots, worried out of her mind and constantly questioning her decision to make things permanent with him. How did other women do it, damn it? Cash had only been gone for three days, but it felt like an eternity, and she was going crazy not knowing if he was okay.

  Ironically, the woman next to her was in the same boat, yet Annabelle seemed downright chipper as she sat behind the wheel of Cash’s SUV and sang along to the White Stripes song blaring out of the speakers. Annabelle was playing chauffeur for the day because Jen was too much of a basket case to make the drive to Los Angeles alone. Her interview with Today’s World was in an hour, and she desperately wished that Cash were here at the moment so he could ease her nerves with his distracting kisses and heated caresses.

  But at least Annabelle had agreed to accompany her. Well, not so much agreed as ordered. After two days of Annabelle popping in every other minute to “hang out”, Jen had finally gotten the brunette to confess that Cash and Carson had told her to stick to Jen like glue. Even with Brendan gone, the two overprotective men in her life still thought she needed a babysitter.

  “Why are you so happy?” Jen demanded. “Aren’t you worried about Ryan?”

  Annabelle lowered the volume. “Nope.”

  “Really?”

  “Worrying doesn’t achieve a thing. Ryan can take care of himself, and I trust that he’ll do everything in his power to come home to me.”

  She envied the other woman’s confidence. She might feel more confident herself if she knew where Cash was or what he was even doing, but SEAL operations were kept under wraps, and she knew nothing except that this was a “minor” op, low-threat and not likely to be lengthy. Knowing that didn’t make her feel the slightest bit better, but this was their first separation in what would most likely be many, and she was determined to pass this first test with flying colors.

  “Cash will be fine,” Annabelle said as they drove through West Hollywood. “He and the others are trained for this.”

  “I know, but I’m still worried.”

  “You should worry about impressing that photo editor instead.”

  “Trust me, I’m doing that too.” She bit her lip. “What if he hates my portfolio?”

  “He won
’t. He’s already seen all the photographs in it, remember? This interview is just a formality, Jen. You’ve got the job in the bag.”

  “I hope so.”

  The Today’s World building came into view, and Annabelle drove into the underground parking lot. She stopped at the ticket machine, grabbed a ticket, and shoved it on the dashboard before continuing down into the darkened underground.

  “How do I look?” Jen asked after Annabelle parked in a space near the elevators.

  “Gorgeous, as usual.”

  She smoothed out the front of her pale-blue silk blouse, tucked neatly into her knee-length black pencil skirt. She’d swept her hair up in a neat bun and opted for minimal makeup. She had no clue whether this was a formal interview or a laidback meeting. She just hoped she looked professional enough.

  She took a breath and looked at Annabelle. “Are you going to wait here?”

  Nodding, the brunette fished her phone from the cup holder. “Yeah, I have some emails to send.” Annabelle’s smile was full of encouragement. “Kick some ass in there, okay?”

  “I’ll try.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Jen slid back into the car and tossed the leather portfolio in the backseat.

  “How did it go?” Annabelle demanded when she didn’t utter a word.

  Letting out a shaky breath, she met Annabelle’s impatient gaze. “I got the job.”

  “Omigod! You did?”

  “I did.”

  The next thing she knew, Annabelle lunged across the center console and nearly suffocated her in a tight hug. “I knew you would! Congratulations!”

  “Thanks,” she said weakly.

  Annabelle released her and started the car, still grinning like crazy. “So what’s your first assignment?”

  “They’re starting me off with puff pieces. The magazine’s running an interview with Senator Markowski for the next issue and they want me to take his picture. He wants it done at his house in Lake Tahoe, so I’m flying out there next week.”

  As they emerged from the parking garage, sunlight assaulted Jen’s eyes. She rummaged in her purse for her sunglasses and slipped them on. A part of her was still feeling dumbfounded. She’d gotten a job. A photography job. So why didn’t it feel real to her?

  Heading for the interstate, Annabelle glanced over with a deep frown. “Why don’t you look happy? You just got the job of your dreams.”

  “I know. I guess it hasn’t sunk in yet.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “After Rick hired me, my first instinct was to call Cash, and then I got all bummed out when I remembered I couldn’t.”

  Annabelle looked sympathetic. “Look, I know it sucks. The first time Ryan was gone, I was a basket case too. But it gets easier.”

  She pictured Carson and Holly, and thought, No, it doesn’t. But she bit back the words. Besides, maybe every couple was unique. Savannah and Matt, for example—Savannah was so independent she almost seemed to enjoy the time off from her boyfriend.

  Maybe she and Cash wouldn’t drift apart during his absences. Maybe the time apart would bring them even closer.

  Either way, Annabelle was right. Worrying about things beyond her control was counterproductive.

  “Did you still want to stop by your apartment before we head home?” Annabelle exited the off-ramp and sped toward San Diego’s city center.

  “If you don’t mind. I really need that spare power adapter.” Her laptop charger had died on her last night, but she hadn’t felt like driving all the way to her place to pick up the extra one she kept there.

  “When are you moving out of Cash’s?”

  Jen shrugged. “A couple of days, probably.”

  “Why bother? I’m sure Hot Stuff will love it if you moved in with him.” There was a playful twinkle in Annabelle’s eyes.

  “Yeah, but I doubt Matt will. Besides, I don’t think I’m ready for that. We’ve only been together a month.”

  “And living together,” Annabelle pointed out.

  “Yeah, but that was out of necessity.” And now that her crazy ex was out of the picture, it was time to return to her own place. She loved Cash, but it was too early for them to officially live together, especially since she had a brand-new career to focus on.

  Annabelle parked the car in front of Jen’s building. “Want me to come up with you?”

  “Nah, I’ll only be a minute.”

  Grabbing her purse, she dashed into the building. Her kitten heels clicked on the lobby floor as she walked to the elevator. She rode it up to the fifth floor, fishing her keys from her purse as she strode down the frayed carpet in the hallway.

  The moment she entered her apartment, she experienced a sense of disorientation. Everything looked exactly the same—tiny living room, blue carpeting, mismatched furniture, sticky notes all over the place—yet it felt like a lifetime since she’d been here rather than a mere three weeks.

  She went to the bedroom and got the laptop charger from the bottom drawer of her desk. She coiled the cord and tucked the adapter into her purse, then strode back to the living room just as a knock sounded on the door.

  She frowned for a moment, before realizing Annabelle had probably come up to use the bathroom or something.

  “Sorry, I locked the door,” she called as she unlocked the deadbolt. “It’s become a habit ever since—” Her breath caught in a startled gasp when she laid eyes on her ex. “Brendan?”

  19

  After one long moment of motionless shock, Jen snapped into action. She didn’t give Brendan a chance to say a word. With a jolt of panic and a burst of energy, she slammed the door, only for him to stick his foot out and wedge it in the doorframe.

  “Let me in, Jen,” he begged.

  What the hell was he even doing here?

  A pair of brown eyes pierced into her, glittering with a mixture of anger and wild desperation. Brendan’s face was as handsome as ever, except his nose had clearly been broken during that fight with Cash—bruised, swollen and slightly off-center.

  “Go away,” she snapped. “You’re violating the restraining order.”

  She kicked his foot, then rammed her shoulder into the door to try to slam it. But he got both palms on the door and pushed hard, sending Jen careening backward. She stumbled and lost her balance, and as her butt collided with the carpet, fear pounded into her.

  Looming over her, her ex extended his hand. “Come on, let me help you up.”

  Fuck. She should’ve known the restraining order wouldn’t do shit.

  Scrambling to her feet, Jen held up her palms in a don’t-come-any-closer pose. “You can’t be here, Brendan,” she said quietly. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police.”

  His eyes flashed. “Stop being so melodramatic. I only came to talk.”

  “You’re supposed to be in Oakland.”

  “I was.” Desperation flooded his face. “But I had to come back. I couldn’t just move to another city without talking to you first. Without convincing you to come with me.”

  He took a step toward her.

  She took a step back.

  “I’m not moving to Oakland with you,” she retorted. “I want you to leave. Now.”

  Her gaze darted to the floor, where she’d dropped her purse when she’d fallen. If she bent to pick it up, she’d have to take her eyes off her ex, who didn’t look very calm at the moment. Indignation had darkened his expression, and he was shifting on his feet, his body language agitated.

  Fuck. Talk about falling into a false state of security. She’d foolishly assumed Brendan would leave her alone once he left town, but clearly she’d underestimated his level of craziness. Why had she come up here alone? She should have continued to take precautions and brought Annabelle.

  “I can’t go,” he said, sounding miserable. “I can’t leave until we work this out.”

  “There’s nothing to work out. It’s over.”

  “It doesn’t have to be! Come to Oakland with me. Please, you know we can
be happy together.”

  She glanced at her purse again. She could try taking her phone out—maybe he’d be too caught off guard to stop her.

  “Jen. Look at me!”

  She reluctantly moved her gaze back to him. “I want you to leave.”

  “Shit! I just keep doing everything wrong,” he burst out. “But it’s all because I love you. I know we can be good together. We had something amazing, and it hurts that you were so quick to throw it away.”

  He came at her again, and this time Jen didn’t back up. Fueled by a wave of frustration, she brought her knee up and struck him in the groin, eliciting an outraged cry from his mouth.

  “Stop it!” he yelled. “I just want to be with you!”

  Her elbow shot up at the same time Brendan’s fist came at her face, bringing a sting of pain and a rush of moisture to her left eye.

  Blinking through the pain, Jen drove the heel of her hand into his nose and heard the bone crunch.

  “You bitch!”

  Blood erupted from his nostrils. As he cursed in pain, Jen ducked out of his grip and raced toward the kitchen with her purse, trying to run and get her phone at the same time. But she wasn’t fast enough.

  She heard footsteps, felt Brendan’s hot breath on the nape of her neck, and then he fisted the back of her shirt and yanked her backward.

  Jen struggled, using the fingers of one hand to try and gouge at his eyes. “Get off me,” she grunted.

  He got an arm around her from behind and dug his elbow into her windpipe. “How long were you sleeping with that muscle head?” he demanded. “Were you cheating on me the entire time we were together?”

  She flung out her arm in search of something to grab onto. As Brendan pushed her against the stove, cursing and spitting out angry accusations, Jen fought to escape his grasp. When her hand collided with the metal handle of the cast-iron pan on the counter, triumph and relief exploded like fireworks in her gut. She gripped the handle, then swung the pan at Brendan’s head. It collided into his skull with a loud thud, stunning him enough that his grip slackened.