“Going behind my back and giving Jane my pictures?” she prompted.
Guilt slithered up his throat and formed a big lump, but there was a bit of anger in there too. “I can’t believe Jane told you. She promised—”
“Don’t be mad at her. It just sorta slipped out, and I’m actually really glad she said something.” Jen smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not angry at you. I know you were only trying to help, and thanks to you, I have a shot at a freelance position with one of the most esteemed magazines in the country.” Her voice wobbled. “You believed in me, Cash. Nobody’s ever believed in me before.”
“You have a shot because of you. I might have given Jane the photos, but you were the one who took them. You deserve this, sweetheart.” He had to chuckle. “But please, can I be there when you tell your mom and the admiral that your waste-of-time hobby has officially become your career?”
“Wait, you’re volunteering to be in the admiral’s company again? Wow, you must really love me.”
“I must really love you,” he said huskily. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”
“I know.” She reached out and swept her fingers over his jaw, her gentle touch making him shiver. “And I’d do anything for you, cowboy, even throw my dating rulebook out the window to be with you.”
Cash searched her face. “Are you sure about this? Can you really handle the whole military thing?”
For a second, uncertainty flickered in her blue eyes, but then it faded into a gleam of sincerity. “I have to believe we can do it, Cash. I know we’ll have to work hard on this relationship, and I can’t promise that I won’t be a bundle of nerves every time you go away, but—”
His cell phone chimed.
“Perfect timing,” he said wryly. He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen, then stifled a curse. Son of a bitch.
Next to him, Jen stiffened. “You need to answer it?”
“Yeah,” he said grimly.
Rising from the couch, he answered the call and listened to Becker’s brusque orders, while Jen stayed seated and watched him unhappily.
After he hung up, he couldn’t control the frustrated breath that escaped his mouth. “I have to report to the base.”
The corners of her mouth strained.
Cash waited for it. The big one-eighty. The moment when she said, Fuck, I can’t do this after all. I can’t wait around for you.
But the rebuff didn’t come. Instead, Jen staggered to her feet and approached him hesitantly. “It’s okay,” she murmured, resting her cheek against his collarbone. “I can do this, Cash.”
He cradled the back of her head and tipped it up so he could study her expression. He searched for any sign that she didn’t mean what she said, and found none. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Now, go.” She swallowed hard. “Call me if you can, and if you can’t, that’s okay. I’ll be waiting right here when you come home.”
Cash’s chest clenched. “You promise?”
“I promise, cowboy.”
He’ll be just fine.
Those four syllables had become Jen’s personal catchphrase. Ever since Cash had left, she’d been twisted up in knots, worried out of her mind and constantly questioning her decision to make things permanent with Cash. How did other women do it, damn it? Cash had only been gone for three days, but it felt like an eternity, and she was going crazy not knowing if he was okay.
Ironically, the woman next to her was in the same boat, yet Annabelle seemed downright chipper as she sat behind the wheel of Cash’s SUV and sang along to the White Stripes CD blaring out of the speakers. Annabelle was playing chauffeur for the day because Jen was too much of a basket case to make the drive to Los Angeles alone. Her interview with Today’s World was in an hour, and she desperately wished that Cash were here at the moment so he could ease her nerves with his distracting kisses and heated caresses.
But at least Annabelle had agreed to accompany her. Well, not so much agreed as ordered. After two days of Annabelle popping in every other minute to “hang out”, Jen had finally gotten the brunette to confess that Cash and Carson had told her to stick to Jen like glue. Even with Brendan gone, the two overprotective men in her life still thought she needed a babysitter.
“Why are you so happy?” Jen demanded. “Aren’t you worried about Ryan?”
Annabelle lowered the volume and shot Jen a sidelong look. “Nope.”
“Really?”