By four o’clock, her parents had calmed down, and she was anxious to get the hell out of there. So was Cash, judging by the way he kept tapping his loafers on the floor of the deck. Carson had gone inside by then to check his email, though Jen suspected he’d used that as an excuse to disappear.
Abruptly, she pushed her chair back and stood up. “Okay, I think it’s time for us to go. I want to clean up my resume tonight.”
That earned her a frown from her mother. “Where are you thinking of applying?”
“Not sure yet. I’ll take a look at the classifieds, maybe hit up Horton Plaza and Fashion Valley to drop off resumes.”
Her mom made that familiar tsk of disapproval. “Wouldn’t you rather do something useful, Jennifer? Something that makes a difference?”
“Sales makes a difference,” she said lightly, hoping her parents wouldn’t notice the annoyed tic in her jaw. “I help people pick out that perfect outfit or find that perfect gift.”
“Honey, can’t you just consider the idea of nursing school?”
Fighting the urge to rip out her own hair, Jen managed a nod. “Sure, Mom. I’ll consider it.” She turned to Cash. “Ready to go?”
He was on his feet in a nanosecond. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
Suck-up, leaving it up to her when he was clearly dying to escape. There was a reason she hadn’t brought many guys home. Her mother wasn’t so bad, aside from the not-so-veiled criticism, but her father? He was a force to be reckoned with—authoritative, strict, and with no tolerance for error.
“I want a daily checkin,” the admiral said after Jen gave him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek.
“Weekly,” she countered.
“Twice a week.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
Leaving her parents on the deck, she and Cash headed back inside. In the hallway, she stopped and touched his arm. “I just need to use the bathroom,” she said.
“I’ll meet you in the car.” His strides were eager as he hurried off.
Sighing, Jen quickly popped into the hall washroom. She was eager to get going too, but after she left the bathroom, she ended up getting sidetracked on her way to the front door. Hearing Carson’s voice drifting out of the den, she halted midstep. Her brother sounded…agitated.
She wasn’t a snooper by nature, but Carson’s strained voice compelled her to creep closer to the den.
“I know, but I really need to see you.”
Jen froze.
“Maybe a quick cup of coffee tomorrow?” Carson paused. “No, Holly doesn’t know. I haven’t told her yet.”
A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
“Okay…sure…tomorrow at noon. The Starbucks on Market? See you then, angel.”
Angel?
Jen shook the WTF cobwebs from her head, now utterly queasy. When she heard footsteps nearing the door, she snapped out of her trance and darted back to the bathroom. Sucking in a few deep breaths, she tried to control the confusion and suspicion flying through her brain like street litter being blown by the wind.
Exhaling slowly, she stepped out of the bathroom, running into Carson just as he strode into the hall.
He flashed her a tired look. “All done with the Spanish Inquisition?”
“Yes, thank God.” She hesitated. “Why didn’t Holly come with you today?”
“She’s at the restaurant.”
“I thought she doesn’t work Sundays.”
“She doesn’t, but the weekend chef called in sick, so she had to go in.”
Jen narrowed her eyes. “What’s this I hear about Holly staying with her sister the other night?”
Carson’s lips tightened under her scrutiny. “It was no big deal. We got into a little fight, that’s all.”
“A fight over what?”
“Over none of your damn business.”
He made a move to march off, but she latched her hand onto his defined upper arm. “Carson. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he muttered. “Just husband and wife stuff, okay?”
“Should I be worried?”
“No.” He slowly uncurled her fingers from his biceps. “So how you doing at Cash’s? Is he being a gentleman?”
His transparent attempt at deflection annoyed her. “He’s being very hospitable.”
“He hasn’t put the moves on you, has he?”
No, I put the moves on him.
“Of course not,” she replied, but only because she’d promised Cash she wouldn’t say anything.
Still, the lie left a bitter taste in her mouth. She was twenty-six, for God’s sake. Her brother had no say in her love life. Her safety, fine, she’d give him that, but she’d only bended to Carson’s will and agreed to move out of her apartment because he’d raised legitimate concerns. What if Brendan did violate the restraining order and show up at her door? That wasn’t so farfetched anymore, considering he’d just confronted her parents.
But while her brother’s concerns about Brendan were valid, she didn’t agree with his high-handed attitude about Cash.
“I’ll talk to you later.”
Jen snapped out of her thoughts in time to see her brother’s retreating back. Rather than call after him, she let him go, unable to fight the feeling of foreboding climbing up her spine. What on earth was up with her brother?