“What do you mean?” Annabelle demanded.
She hated herself for breaking the confidence, but she didn’t know what else to do anymore. Holly was staying with her sister again, and Carson had been ignoring Jen’s calls for days. Maybe recruiting some backup would help her stubborn brother and sister-in-law mend this rift between them.
With a heavy breath, she told them everything she knew, except for the part about seeing Carson with another woman. Every female in the room was scowling when Jen finished.
“Men,” Savannah huffed.
“Like a baby will fix anything,” Annabelle muttered with an amazed shake of her head.
“A kid will only bring a whole new pile of problems to the table,” Jane grumbled.
“They need to fix their relationship before bringing a child into it,” Shelby agreed.
“Ahem.”
Five heads swiveled to find Holly standing three feet away. The brunette looked both annoyed and amused at having caught them talking about her.
“We’re not gossiping,” Savannah said instantly, patting the sofa cushion in a gesture for Holly to sit down again.
“We’re venting on your behalf,” Annabelle piped up.
Holly flopped down on the couch. Her green eyes glittered with fortitude as she picked up the tequila shot she’d yet to take. “So we’re all in agreement that Carson is acting like an ass?”
Savannah lifted her own glass. “Hells yeah.”
Jen, Shelby, Annabelle and Jane raised their glasses.
The six of them clinked glasses and threw their heads back as they swallowed the alcohol. Jen felt the burn right down to her belly, and when Savannah tried to refill her shot glass, she shook her head.
“None for me. My stomach can’t handle more than a couple of shots.”
“Fill it up anyway,” Holly said. “I’ll take Jen’s shot.”
Uh-oh. She didn’t voice her worry, but the steel in Holly’s eyes told her that her sister-in-law was feeling self-destructive tonight.
For the next hour, they discussed what an idiot Carson was, while Holly continued to slug down tequila. Eventually Savannah had to cut the brunette off, and the conversation somehow turned to sex.
Jen stayed quiet, but Jane sucked her right into the discussion by turning to her and saying, “So, how’s Hot Stuff in bed?”
“Hot Stuff?”
“Cash,” the redhead clarified. With a shit-eating grin, she turned to the others. “That’s right, I said it. Jen here is totally doing the wild thing with Hot Stuff.”
That earned her some hoots and catcalls.
Annabelle beamed. “I already knew,” she announced smugly. “Cash called me yesterday to light candles.”
Savannah wrinkled her forehead. “Huh?”
“He took Jen out for a fancy dinner,” Annabelle explained. “And he put candles all over the bedroom and called me to light them before they got back. It was so frickin’ romantic.” She grinned at Jen. “Oh, and Cash made me promise not to tell Ryan what I was doing down there, so I stole a carton of eggs from your fridge to give me an excuse for going downstairs.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “So that’s where the eggs went.”
“Why the fancy dinner?” Savannah asked curiously. “What were you celebrating?”
This time Jane answered. “Our little Jenny has an interview with my old magazine. Am I the only one who didn’t know Jen is a kickass photographer?”
“I had no idea,” Annabelle said, looking insulted. “You holding out on us?”
She blushed. “I always figured it was just a hobby.” She glanced at Jane. “I can’t believe your photo editor stumbled on my blog like that.”
The redhead got a funny look on her face. “Yeah, that’s a stroke of luck, huh?”
The flippant response raised a red flag, and Jen studied the other woman with suspicion. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Jane’s expression epitomized innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
A frown puckered her brows. “Rick Martin found my work on the blog, right?”
“Of course.”
“Jane.”
The redhead released a heavy breath. “Fine. No.”
“No what?”
“Rick didn’t discover your work on the blog, hon. Your work found him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m the one who gave Rick your photographs.”
Surprise jolted through her. “What? How’s that possible? How did you even get—” Jen’s breath hitched. “Cash.”
Jane scrupulously studied the label of the tequila bottle.
“Cash gave you my photographs, didn’t he?” Jen demanded.
The other woman lifted her head and offered a sheepish shrug. “He brought over a memory stick with your stuff on it the day of Sadie’s party.”
“He did?” She had no idea whether to be angry at Cash for invading her privacy or thrilled that he had.
“Don’t be mad at him,” Jane said quickly. “He had good intentions, hon. He said you weren’t planning on submitting work to any of the bigger magazines, but he thought you were too talented not to. He made me promise not to tell you.”