Her brother shrugged. “Come on, let’s get this over with. They’re out on the patio.”
Neither Scott sibling paid Cash much attention. They simply marched down the wide hallway, leaving him to steal a quick glance here and there as he trailed after them. Family photos lined the cream-colored walls in the corridor. There was an obscene amount of shots featuring Carson in his uniform, and Cash also glimpsed a portrait featuring an older version of Carson clad in full navy regalia.
The hallway spilled into a spacious, country-style kitchen with gleaming appliances and an enormous butcher-block work island. A glass sliding door across the room led out to a cedar deck ringed by a slatted wooden railing. As they neared the door, Cash gazed beyond the deck at the manicured lawn and kidney-shaped swimming pool.
Jen’s parents were out on the deck, sitting on white wicker chairs. Both jumped to their feet when they spotted the new arrivals, and a little blonde cyclone dashed over to embrace Jen. Jen must have inherited her diminutive stature and perfect features from her mother, who looked so much like her daughter they could have been twins.
The admiral waited his turn while his wife hugged their daughter, but the hard line of his square jaw belied his patient pose. The second Jen’s mother released her, the admiral pulled her into a tight embrace.
The Scotts looked Jen up and down as if gauging her physical and mental state. Their scrutiny lasted so long Jen finally sighed. “I told you I’m fine. Stop looking at me like I’m not.”
Jen’s mother suddenly peered at Cash. “Is this him?”
“Yes,” Jen replied, sounding both irritated and amused. “Cash McCoy, these are my parents, Laura and Gary Scott.”
Cash approached the couple and stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Scott,” he said gruffly.
Laura shook his hand first. Her smile was genuinely warm. “Call me Laura, please.”
Gary leaned in for the handshake, his lips curled in a frown as he said, “Call me Admiral. Or sir.”
From the corner of his eye, Cash saw Jen rolling her eyes.
Jen’s father still had a death grip on Cash’s hand. He didn’t want to pansy out and be the first to end the shake, but he knew the older man expected it of him, and the need to get in the man’s good graces beat out Cash’s macho instincts.
He withdrew his hand, then studied Gary Scott. Six feet tall, blond hair threaded with silver, the shoulders of a linebacker and a handsome yet stern face. Commanding was the first word that came to mind. Followed by terrifying.
The admiral narrowed his pale blue eyes. “So you’re the one entrusted with the task of keeping my daughter safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man continued his slow appraisal, then nodded as if Cash had passed his test. “You seem competent.”
Relief flickered through him. “Thank you, sir.”
“With that said, know that if any harm comes to my daughter, I will drown you.”
Huh. So that’s where Carson got it from.
“Dad!” Jen chided, but her father had already turned away from Cash.
“Why don’t we all sit down?” Although he formed it as a question, it was clearly an order.
And although the admiral wasn’t his CO, wasn’t even active duty, in fact, Cash’s butt landed in the chair before the man even finished his sentence. So did everyone else’s butts. Which made one thing very clear—the admiral ran a tight ship here.
Fuck. This was going to be a long afternoon.
As expected, her parents almost had a coronary when Jen reluctantly detailed Brendan’s stalker activities of late. When she reached the part about the rose petals in her apartment, her father looked so livid she thought he might actually grab his favorite rifle and go after Brendan. Thankfully, Carson managed to talk the admiral down, assuring him that Jen was safe at Cash’s apartment and would remain that way until Brendan left town.
The discussion lasted for the better part of an hour. When her parents finally eased up and stopped trying to coerce her to move back home, she breathed a sigh of relief—only to get annoyed all over again once they started harassing her about her current state of unemployment.
Her mother mentioned nursing again.
Her father pointed out there was no shame in enlisting in the military at twenty-six.
They both remarked that she spent too much time taking “silly” pictures.
Her brother tried to run interference.
And through it all, Cash sat there, looking so uncomfortable she felt truly bad for him. The only time her father acknowledged him was to bark out questions about Cash’s training and offer pointed reminders that his “little girl’s” safety was in Cash’s hands. Talk about pressure, but it was all you could expect from the mighty Admiral Scott.