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.
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 check-in,” 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?”