Feeling Hot - Page 18/89

“The LT’s sister is staying with you?” Dylan sounded mystified. “Why?”

“Long story.” He shot a quick look at the empty hallway, then lowered his voice. “This is bad, man. Like really, really bad.”

“Oh, I get it—total cockblock, huh? You can’t exactly bring chicks home and parade them in front of the LT’s sister.” Dylan made a sympathetic noise. “And speaking of chicks, did you ever find that girl’s number? The one you met at the bar this week?”

A hysterical laugh bubbled in his throat. “It’s her.”

“It’s who?”

“Carson’s sister. She’s the girl from the bar.”

A beat of silence, and then his friend began to laugh. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Cash said glumly.

“That’s awesome. See, I told you everything would work itself out.”

“This isn’t awesome. It’s a total f**king disaster.”

“Uh, didn’t you tell me how badly you wanted to hook up with her?” Dylan reminded him. “And now she’s crashing at your place. Dude. Forget about the ice cream and have sex with her instead.”

“I can’t.”

“Okay, I have to ask this again—are you being held hostage? This whole conversation is confusing me.”

“I can’t sleep with her. Carson said she’s off-limits.” He sighed. “The threat of drowning may have been involved too.”

A soft whistle filled the line. “The LT threatened to drown you?”

“Yep.” Cash chewed on the inside of his cheek. “But he was yanking my chain, right? He probably wouldn’t care if I hooked up with his sister, right?”

“No, he really will kill you,” Dylan said matter-of-factly. “Trust me. One time he caught me flirting with Holly and threatened to clock me if I ever did it again. But you know me, I totally did it again. It took two weeks for the swelling in my eye to go down.”

“Wait, you got that shiner from Carson? You told us some loser sucker-punched you at a bar.”

“I lied.” Dylan’s normally lazy voice turned serious. “If Carson said hands-off, then listen to him. You know what they say about playing with fire…”

“Yeah, yeah, you get burned.”

“No, you get drowned.” With a hearty laugh, Dylan hung up.

Chapter Four

Un-freaking-believable.

Jen snuck a sidelong look at Cash as he parked his black Ford Escape at the curb in front of the ice cream parlor. The entire car ride over, he’d been making idle conversation and acting like they were nothing but a pair of buddies going out for ice cream.

It was disconcerting to realize that he hadn’t been kidding about keeping things platonic between them. Not that she was some sex-crazed nympho who couldn’t keep her pants on, but come on. Their chemistry at the Tavern had nearly set the place on fire. And she hadn’t missed that tent situation under his pants earlier—an entire Boy Scout troop could’ve camped under there.

At least he wasn’t denying the chemistry between them. His admission that he desired her had been a definite ego boost…until he’d announced that he wouldn’t be acting on that attraction.

Because of her brother.

And you’re surprised because…?

True. Why was she surprised? Carson had been doing the whole macho big-brother bullshit her entire life. He’d scared away more potential boyfriends than she could count. He’d ruined her first kiss by bursting onto the porch, pulling Ben Sampson off her mid-liplock, and ordering Ben to keep his tongue in his own mouth. And who could forget prom night, when Carson guaranteed she wouldn’t lose her virginity by informing her date of all the ways he could kill a man thanks to his military training.

And then when she’d finally lost her virginity to Kyle Parker, Carson was the one who sent Kyle running by giving him a speech about condoms and threatening to drown him if he knocked her up.

To drown him. Who threatened to drown people, for Pete’s sake?

And now her brother had gotten to Cash, the only man who’d ever managed to arouse her by merely breathing. His military status squashed any notion of something long lasting between them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge in a little fling as long as they were living together. She got the feeling that sleeping with Cash would be a whole new experience, an introduction to the kind of sex she’d always craved—wild, passionate, uninhibited. But Carson had officially thrown yet another wrench in her love life.

“So you weren’t kidding the other day when you mentioned a crazy ex,” Cash remarked.

“I never kid about stalkers,” she answered with a sigh.

A bell dinged as they walked through the door of the ice cream parlor. Jen made a beeline for the counter and ordered without glancing at the menu posted on the wall. “Two scoops of Choctastic Verryberry Swirl in a waffle cone,” she told the pimply-faced kid who greeted her. “And a to-go gallon of the same flavor.”

Cash whistled. “As your friend, I should warn you that all that ice cream can’t be good for your figure.”

She bestowed him a sweet smile. “As the woman you refuse to sleep with, I should tell you that my figure is none of your concern.”

The kid behind the counter coughed and averted his eyes. “Um. What can I get you?” he asked Cash in a squeaky pubescent voice.