0°Celsius: To thaw a frozen heart

Cash had just dunked his head under the shower spray when the curtain was ripped open and Jen appeared like an apparition.

“Hurry up,” she ordered. “We’re going out.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Why don’t you join me instead?”

“We’re going out,” she repeated.

Then she disappeared, leaving a cloud of steam in her wake.

Bewildered, Cash rinsed the shampoo from his hair and shut off the faucet. Water slid down his naked body and dripped onto the fluffy blue bath mat as he grabbed a towel. He quickly dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and wiped the foggy mirror so he could see his reflection while he shaved.

Since his electric razor was busted, he was using disposables until he got around to buying a new one, but he’d run out of those too, so for the past couple of days he’d been stealing Jen’s lady razors, which drove her nuts. When he opened the medicine cabinet and reached for her stash of pink razors, he found a yellow Post-it note taped to the package.

The words “NO MEANS NO” glared accusingly at him.

Grinning, he ignored the permanent-marker warning and swiped a razor. He shaved in a hurry, knowing that Jen was probably pacing the bedroom while she waited for him. Probably biting on her bottom lip the way she did whenever she was upset.

And he knew she was upset, because she’d been nibbling on that sexy lip ever since they’d come back from Del Mar yesterday. He’d tried assuring her there was no way Carson would cheat on his wife, but Jen remained unconvinced. She’d stewed about it all night.

Though if Cash were being honest, he was less upset over what was no doubt a misunderstanding with Carson, and more upset about the way Jen’s parents had behaved. They’d treated her like she was a huge disappointment to them, a total failure because she hadn’t found her career path yet.

And the admiral’s barbed remark about Jen’s “silly” pictures had seriously grated. After seeing her photographs, Cash knew there was nothing silly about them. He still couldn’t believe she wasn’t doing it professionally, and now that he’d seen firsthand how talented she was, he planned on encouraging her to look into photography opportunities. Someone needed to offer some encouragement, seeing as how she didn’t get any from her folks.

It bothered him that she let them undermine her confidence and make light of her skills. But when he’d asked her last night why she didn’t stand up to her family, she’d shrugged and said something about “picking her battles.”

Yup, she was indeed pacing when Cash entered the bedroom a couple minutes later. She fired an impatient look in his direction and said, “I picked out an outfit for you.”

He glanced at the bed—shit, she’d actually laid out some clothes—and raised his eyebrows. “Um. Okay.”

“To save time,” she added hastily. “I’m not making some controlling statement about your fashion sense.”

Speaking of fashion sense, he suddenly noticed what she was wearing, and his brows rose even higher. Rather than the tight-fitting jeans, cute tops, and sexy shoes he’d become accustomed to, she wore black yoga pants, black Adidas, and a snug hooded sweatshirt in a dark shade of blue. And a baseball cap.

An alarm went off in his head. “Where exactly are we going?”

“The Gaslamp. I wanted to drop off a few resumes.”

“Then why are you dressed like Sporty Spice?”

She huffed out a breath. “I’m applying to a sporting goods store. I figured I’d dress the part, show them that, ah, I’m into sports.”

Suspicion swarmed his gut. His gaze shifted to the clothes she’d picked out for him—jeans, black hoodie, and yup, a baseball cap. Okay, this was weird.

Deciding he didn’t like the WTF nature of the situation, Cash dropped his towel and flashed a grin. “Why don’t we do the resume thing tomorrow and spend the day in bed instead?”

Jen didn’t bat an eyelash, not even when he gave his hardening dick a long, firm stroke. Huh. No reaction at the sight of his goods. She was definitely a woman on a mission today.

“Or…we can hand out resumes,” she said before turning to the door.

Sighing, he reached for a clean pair of boxers from the laundry basket on the floor, then dressed in the clothes Jen had left on the bed. He even put on the damn hat, mostly because he was curious to find out where Jen was taking him that would require them to wear matching hoodies and caps. Sporting goods store, his ass.

His unease grew once they left the apartment and got into his car. Jen seemed even more agitated now—avoiding his eyes, biting her lip, tapping her short fingernails on the stack of resumes in her lap.

“Okay,” he grumbled. “Why are you acting like a crazy person?”

“What are you talking about?” she said in an overly cheerful voice. “I’m acting normal.”

He shook his head, deciding to give up. Might as well let this insanity unfold naturally.

Ten minutes later, they reached the Gaslamp District. Cash lucked out and found an empty parking space in front of a meter, but not even his impressive, borderline-superhuman parallel parking job inspired a reaction from Jen.

After he fed the meter and locked the SUV, he glanced at the small coffee shop they’d parked in front of. “Want to grab a coffee?”

She looked so thrilled that he grew even more suspicious. “Yes! I would love a coffee.”

Cash made a move toward the café, but she quickly grabbed his arm. “Not from here. I’m in the mood for Starbucks.”

He shot her a strange look. “Okay.”

They took off down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians as Jen set a brisk pace more suited for running the Boston Marathon.

“What’s the rush?” he asked in annoyance.

“Craving an iced mocha, that’s all,” she said cheerfully.

The Starbucks was five blocks away, but at the breakneck speed they were going, they reached it in three minutes flat. Cash headed for the door, but Jen yet again intercepted him. Her eyes were glued to the storefront, scanning the glass like a hawk focusing on its prey. All of a sudden, a cross between a squeak and a hiss flew out of her mouth, and then she tugged on his hand and dragged him toward the side of the building.

Just like that, Cash had officially had enough.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Shamefaced, she met his frazzled gaze. “Okay, so… Don’t be mad.”

He groaned. Someone starting a sentence with “don’t be mad” was never a good sign.

“Why are we here, Jen?”

“Look in the window.”

Frowning, Cash peered around the corner. Every table in the coffee shop was occupied and he scanned the patrons with military precision. Three older women laughing over iced coffees, a lone student reading a thick textbook, a group of businessmen chatting.

Son of a bitch.

He rapidly moved out of sight and glared at Jen. “Are you fucking kidding me? We’re spying on Carson?”

“Don’t think of it as spying. We’re…discreetly monitoring his movements. You know, doing some recon.”

Cash raised his hand to run it through his hair, only to collide with the brim of his baseball cap. Make that his disguise. And he noticed that Jen wasn’t carrying her resumes. She’d left them in the car, which confirmed she’d had an ulterior motive this entire time.

“This is ridiculous. Let’s go. I’m not spying on your brother.”

Her lips tightened in an angry line. “Did you happen to notice that he’s not alone?”

“He was sitting alone at the table.”

She crept along the brick wall and peeked around the building again, then beckoned him. “Look again,” she said flatly.

Cash stole another glance and cursed under his breath. She was right. Carson’s back was to the window, but Cash had a clear view of the auburn-haired woman now occupying the small table. She must have stepped away when he’d looked over the first time.

From his vantage point, he noted that Carson’s companion was average looking, but those long auburn tresses and the remarkable rack beneath her V-neck top definitely upped her hotness factor.

Jen sidled up to him and made a dismayed noise. “What the hell is he doing with that woman?”

“Maybe they’re just friends.”

No sooner did he finish that sentence than the redhead reached across the table and gripped Carson’s hand. Her face took on an intense expression as she said something to the blond SEAL.

Cash caught Jen’s look of outrage. “Friends hold hands sometimes,” he said feebly.

She ducked back into the alley, a cloud darkening her face. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s go.”

He didn’t argue. He also didn’t sing what was becoming his new favorite tune: there has to be an explanation. So what if the cute redhead had taken Carson’s hand? That didn’t mean a damn thing.

Still, he couldn’t shake the uneasiness in his gut as they walked back to the car.

After he settled in the driver’s seat, he glanced over and sighed when he noticed the stiffness of Jen’s shoulders. “This doesn’t mean anything, sweetheart. I’m sure if you ask Carson about it, he’ll have an explanation.”

“And what if the explanation is that he’s cheating on Holly?”

Cash had no answer for that. Damn it. What the hell was Carson doing? All this sneaking around wasn’t painting the guy in a positive light.

“Poor Holly. Do you think I should tell her?”

“No,” he said immediately. “Talk to your brother first. If this is all a misunderstanding, you don’t want to cause any more problems by getting Holly riled up.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She went quiet again. “Seeing that sucked, Cash.”

He swallowed. “I know.”

“But…but at least it kind of reaffirms my decision, you know?”

“What decision?”

“Not to be a military wife. I mean, look at what Holly and Carson are dealing with. Fighting, unable to connect or communicate.” She rubbed her temples as if warding off a headache. “My parents’ marriage was the same. My dad was always gone, and Mom had to do everything on her own. It got better once he retired, but his being home now doesn’t make up for all the times he wasn’t. And yeah, I get that relationships require work and compromise, but relationships should also be a partnership. How can that happen when one partner is gone half the time?”

He didn’t have an answer for that, either.

“At least we won’t ever get to that point.”

His mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”

“Because we’re just having a fling. We don’t have to worry about ending up in a Carson-and-Holly situation.” She reached for the stack of resumes she’d left on the dash. “Anyway, there’s no point in going home just yet. Since we’re already here, I may as well hand out some resumes, right?”

With that, she hopped out of the car, leaving Cash feeling unsettled. He knew her words shouldn’t bother him. It was just a fling, exactly like Jen said.

So he got out of the car and followed Jen down the sidewalk, trying not to dwell on the confusing emotions spiraling through him, or the way his chest constricted when he thought about having to say goodbye to this girl.