She ducked back into the alley, a cloud of fury darkening her face. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go.”
Cash didn’t argue. He also didn’t sing what was becoming his new favorite tune: there has to be an explanation. So what if that cute redhead had taken Carson’s hand? That didn’t mean a damn thing.
Still, he couldn’t shake the uneasiness swimming in his gut as they walked back to the car.
After he settled in the driver’s seat, he glanced over at Jen and sighed when he noticed the stiffness of her shoulders. “This doesn’t mean anything, sweetheart. I’m sure if you ask Carson about it, he’ll have an explanation.”
“And what if the explanation is that he’s cheating on Holly?”
Cash had no answer for that. Damn it. What the hell was Carson doing? All this sneaking around wasn’t painting the guy in a positive light.
“God, poor Holly,” Jen murmured. “Do you think I should tell her?”
“No,” he said immediately. “Talk to your brother first. If this is all a misunderstanding, you don’t want to cause any more problems by getting Holly riled up.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She went quiet again, and when she finally spoke, her voice was soft and weary. “Seeing that sucked, Cash.”
He swallowed. “I know.”
“But…but at least it kind of reaffirms my decision, you know?”
“What decision?” he asked roughly.
“Not to be a military wife. I mean, look at what Holly and Carson are dealing with. Fighting, unable to connect or communicate.” She rubbed her temples as if warding off a headache. “My parents’ marriage was the same. My dad was always gone, and Mom had to do everything on her own. It got better once he retired, but his being home now doesn’t make up for all the times he wasn’t. And yeah, I get that relationships require work and compromise, but relationships should also be a partnership. How can that happen when one partner is gone half the time?”
He didn’t have an answer for that, either.
“At least we won’t ever get to that point.”
Cash’s mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”
“We’re just having a fling,” she reminded him. “We don’t have to worry about ending up in a Carson-and-Holly situation.” She reached for the stack of resumes she’d left on the dash. “Anyway, there’s no point in going home just yet. Since we’re already here, I may as well hand out some resumes, huh?”
With that, she hopped out of the car, leaving Cash feeling utterly unsettled. He knew her words shouldn’t bother him. It was just a fling, exactly like Jen said.
Getting out of the car, he followed Jen down the sidewalk, trying not to dwell on the confusing emotions spiraling through him, or the way his chest painfully constricted when he thought about having to say goodbye to this woman.
Jen spent the rest of the afternoon updating her blog and trying valiantly not to stress over what she and Cash had seen earlier. The notion that Carson might be an adulterous whore made her want to drive to his apartment and lay into him, but Cash had convinced her not to talk to her brother until she cooled off a little.
Probably a good idea. She and Carson rarely saw eye to eye on anything—get them in the same room together and they were bound to argue. But she didn’t want to fight with him about this. She wanted a mature, adult conversation—in which he explained why the hell he’d been holding hands with another woman.
“You okay?” Cash asked as he collected the white cardboard containers from the dining room table.
They’d ordered Chinese for dinner, but Jen hadn’t tasted a thing. She’d spent the entire meal staring at her cell phone and battling the urge to call Carson.
“Maybe I should call him now,” she said without responding to the inquiry.
“Or maybe you should call him tomorrow like we agreed. You’re still too pissed—I can see it in your eyes.”
“Aren’t you pissed?”
“No, because I maintain there’s a reasonable explanation for what we saw.”
She helped him clear the table, wishing she shared Cash’s confidence in her brother. Cash, however, hadn’t been around when Carson was in his manwhore prime, while Jen had had a front-row seat.
Her mouth flattened as she carried the leftovers into the kitchen. First thing tomorrow, she was confronting her brother, and he’d better have a damn good explanation.
Cash must have sensed that she’d boarded the angry train again, because he held out his arms and said, “C’mere.”
As if a magnet drew her to him, she sank into his strong embrace, shivering when his lips brushed over the top of her head. His woodsy scent enveloped her, his powerful arms providing the rush of soothing tranquility she’d needed. God, whenever this man held her, she turned into a puddle of mush.
“No more thinking,” he said, running his hands over the small of her back. “Let this go until you talk to Carson, okay?”
She exhaled slowly. “Fine, but I might need you to distract me. Like a sexy kind of distraction.”
He chuckled. “The sexy distraction will have to wait. Dylan’s on his way over, remember?”
“Oh yeah, football. I forgot.”
“You don’t mind, do you? I could always cancel.”
“No, don’t do that. He’s already on his way.” She planted a quick kiss on his cheek and stepped out of the embrace. “I’m going to hop in the shower. If you want some guy time, I can hang out in the bedroom tonight.”