Cash’s mumbled voice drifted into the room, breaking Jen’s concentration. She lifted her gaze from the laptop screen and spotted him pacing the hallway in front of the open bedroom door.
“I’ll do it now, okay? Uh-huh…uh-huh…got it. I’ll email you later. Uh-huh… Love you too… Say hi to Dad.”
Silence ensued, finally broken by a soft expletive from Cash, who entered the bedroom, sank on the edge of the bed and dragged a hand through his hair.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What was that phone call about?”
He set his jaw. “That was my mother.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah.”
Jen waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she rolled her eyes. “Come on, cowboy, spit it out.”
“I…” He was gritting his teeth now. “I need a favor.”
“Okay…”
“I wouldn’t ask you this if it wasn’t important.”
A million possibilities ran through her head. “Let me guess—you need me to serve as the getaway driver for the bank robbery you’re orchestrating.” She paused. “Wait, that makes no sense. Your parents are loaded.”
“Right, that’s why it makes no sense.”
“Fine, then you need me to…kill someone for you? Wait, no. You could easily kill someone all by yourse—”
“I need you to take my picture,” he interrupted in aggravation.
She gawked at him. “Seriously? That’s what’s getting your panties in a knot? Don’t tell me you’ve never had your picture taken.”
Misery clung to his voice. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“My birthday was last month.”
“Uh, happy belated birthday?”
Cash scowled. “I wasn’t done. Anyway, the team was OCONUS so I didn’t get to spend my birthday with my family, but my parents flew in for a visit a few weeks ago, and they brought a present my grandmother made me. Now she keeps harassing them, wanting to know if I liked it.”
“What was it?”
“A sweater.” He didn’t elaborate. “I called to thank her, but apparently she doesn’t believe that I like it. She’s demanding I send photographic evidence of me wearing the sweater so she knows I’m not lying.”
“That seems a little…strange.”
“She’s a strange woman,” he muttered. “Scratch that, she’s absolutely nuts. That’s one of the reasons my mom left home when she was a teenager. My grandmother has some issues. Serious case of OCD, gets hysterical at the drop of a hat, disapproves of anything she doesn’t understand. I’m not looking forward to spending the holidays with her this year, that’s for sure.”
Jen smiled. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll deal with this picture problem for now.” She closed her laptop and climbed off the bed. “I left my camera in the living room. Why don’t you put on the sweater and meet me out there?”
As she headed for the doorway, she noticed Cash hadn’t budged. “What now?” she asked with a sigh.
His cheeks hollowed and she could practically hear his molars grinding. “Before we do this, you have to promise me something.”
She waited.
“You can’t laugh,” he said in a deadly voice.
“I won’t laugh. What’s the promise?”
“No, that’s the promise. You have to promise not to laugh.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “Oh. Okay. I promise.”
She slid out the door, hearing Cash’s low curses as he rummaged around in the closet. In the living room, she grabbed her camera and peered through the lens, snapping a couple of test shots to assess the lighting in the room. She adjusted the shutter speed and aperture, then fiddled around with the focus until she was pleased with the results.
Five minutes passed and Cash still didn’t make an appearance.
“You coming?” Jen called.
Heavy footsteps thudded from the hall, then ceased.
“I promised I wouldn’t laugh,” she told the empty doorway. “Now get that sexy ass out here and let’s start this photo shoot before I change my—”
Her words died in her throat when he stepped out.
And God help her, but even though she’d promised not to laugh, she couldn’t help herself. Doubling over, Jen laughed so hard she thought her ribs would crack open from the force of her convulsions. When she started wheezing, she clutched her side and dropped her gaze to her feet.
“God, I’m going to pee my pants,” she choked out between giggles. “I can’t look at you.”
She spun around, hoping that if he wasn’t in her field of vision, she could regain some semblance of control, but the image of Cash in that sweater had been burned into her mind, and the laughter continued to roll out in waves.
“Thanks, thanks a lot,” she heard him mutter. “I’ll just go hang myself now.”
“No, don’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” She wiped the corners of her eyes and turned to face him. “I’ll be good now, I swear.”
He tilted his head in the most adorable way. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“It’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.”
She gave the sweater another long once-over, trying to fathom what the hell she was seeing. The sweater had been knitted out of pink and green wool, clearly handmade judging by the uneven stitching and lopsided neckline, and as if the pink and green stripes weren’t distracting enough, Cash’s grandmother had stitched an image in the center of the sweater. Jen suspected it was supposed to be Cash, since the disproportioned male figure wore a uniform. A red uniform. With a black helmet. And she didn’t even want to know what he was holding in his hands.