After one long moment of motionless shock, Jen snapped into action. She didn’t give Brendan a chance to say a word. With a jolt of panic and a burst of energy, she slammed the door, only for him to stick his foot out and wedge it in the doorframe.
“Let me in, Jen,” he begged.
What the hell was he even doing here?
A pair of brown eyes pierced into her, glittering with a mixture of anger and desperation. Brendan’s face was as handsome as ever, except his nose had clearly been broken during that fight with Cash—bruised, swollen and slightly off-center.
“Go away,” she snapped. “You’re violating the restraining order.”
She kicked his foot, then rammed her shoulder into the door to try to slam it. But he got both palms on it and pushed hard, sending Jen careening backward. She stumbled and lost her balance, and as her butt collided with the carpet, fear pounded into her.
Looming over her, her ex extended his hand. “Come on, let me help you up.”
Fuck. She should’ve known the restraining order wouldn’t do shit.
Scrambling to her feet, Jen held up her palms in a don’t-come-any-closer pose. “You can’t be here, Brendan,” she said quietly. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police.”
His eyes flashed. “Stop being so melodramatic. I only came to talk.”
“You’re supposed to be in Oakland.”
“I was.” Desperation flooded his face. “But I had to come back. I couldn’t just move to another city without talking to you first. Without convincing you to come with me.”
He took a step toward her.
She took a step back.
“I’m not moving to Oakland with you,” she retorted. “I want you to leave. Now.”
Her gaze darted to the floor, where she’d dropped her purse when she’d fallen. If she bent to pick it up, she’d have to take her eyes off her ex, who didn’t look very calm at the moment. Indignation had darkened his expression, and he was shifting on his feet, his body language agitated.
Fuck. Talk about falling into a false state of security. She’d foolishly assumed Brendan would leave her alone once he left town, but clearly she’d underestimated his level of craziness. Why had she come up here alone? She should have continued to take precautions and brought Annabelle.
“I can’t go,” he said, sounding miserable. “I can’t leave until we work this out.”
“There’s nothing to work out. It’s over.”
“It doesn’t have to be! Come to Oakland with me. Please, you know we can be happy together.”
She glanced at her purse again. She could try taking her phone out—maybe he’d be too caught off guard to stop her.
“Jen. Look at me!”
She reluctantly moved her gaze back to him. “I want you to leave.”
“Shit! I just keep doing everything wrong,” he burst out. “But it’s all because I love you. I know we can be good together. We had something amazing, and it hurts that you were so quick to throw it away.”
He came at her again, and this time Jen didn’t back up. Fueled by a wave of frustration, she brought her knee up and struck him in the groin, eliciting an outraged cry from his mouth.
“Stop it!” he yelled. “I just want to be with you!”
Her elbow shot up at the same time Brendan’s fist came at her face, bringing a sting of pain and a rush of moisture to her left eye.
Blinking through the pain, Jen drove the heel of her hand into his nose and heard the bone crunch.
“You bitch!”
Blood erupted from his nostrils. As he cursed in pain, Jen ducked out of his grip and raced toward the kitchen with her purse, trying to run and get her phone at the same time. But she wasn’t fast enough.
She heard footsteps, felt Brendan’s hot breath on the nape of her neck, and then he fisted the back of her shirt and yanked her backward.
Jen struggled, using the fingers of one hand to try and gouge at his eyes. “Get off me,” she grunted.
He got an arm around her from behind and dug his elbow into her windpipe. “How long were you sleeping with that muscle head?” he demanded. “Were you cheating on me the entire time we were together?”
She flung out her arm in search of something to grab onto. As Brendan pushed her against the stove, cursing and spitting out angry accusations, Jen fought to escape his grasp. When her hand collided with the metal handle of the cast-iron pan on the counter, triumph and relief exploded like fireworks in her gut. She gripped the handle, then swung the pan at Brendan’s head. It collided into his skull with a loud thud, stunning him enough that his grip slackened.
With Brendan momentarily disoriented, Jen raised the pan high in the air and sent it crashing into the back of his head.
A second later, his unconscious body crumpled to the linoleum floor.
Gasping for air, she staggered backward, still clutching the pan.
Jesus. Oh sweet Jesus.
Had she killed him?
No. No, she could see his chest rising and falling. He was breathing, then.
“Jen! What the hell is taking so—oh my God.” Annabelle came to a dead stop in the doorway.
“So much for sticking to me like glue,” Jen said in a wry voice.
Annabelle glanced from Jen’s face to Brendan’s body slumped on the floor, then spoke in a brisk tone. “Did you call the police?”
“Not yet. I was too busy fighting him off.”
“Well, you did a good fucking job. Carson would be proud.”
Jen felt shell-shocked as she watched Annabelle call 911. When the cops showed up fifteen minutes later, she relayed the events that had transpired with a measure of calm she certainly did not feel. Her heart continued to pound. Her hands shook. Lingering adrenaline coursed through her veins, making it impossible to focus on her surroundings or the people around her.
Brendan regained consciousness while one of the uniformed officers handcuffed him, but he remained oddly subdued as he was being carted away. He’d been arrested for assault and violating the restraining order, and Jen supposed she’d have to see him in court at some point, but she couldn’t think that far ahead at the moment.
What if she hadn’t grabbed that pan in time? What if Brendan…had done what? She had no clue what he’d planned on doing. All she knew was she could have been seriously hurt. Or worse.
“You okay?” Annabelle asked after the cops left.
Jen gave a tired nod. “I’m fine.”
“We should put some ice on that eye.”
Eye? Oh, right. It took a second to remember that Brendan had struck her, and once she did, she registered the pain throbbing in her left eye. She reached up to touch it, and discovered that it was nearly swollen shut. Probably explained why half her vision was blurry.
Jen sank onto the couch and took an unsteady breath. She needed to call Cash and tell him what happened. Over voicemail, of course, because she knew his phone wouldn’t be on. But she longed to hear his voice. She desperately wished he were here right now, holding her in his arms.
But he wasn’t here. He was…well, she didn’t know where he was.
God, she wanted him to come home. She didn’t want to be alone. Didn’t want to think about what just happened with Brendan, or how differently the situation could’ve turned out if she hadn’t gained the upper hand.
Damn it, Cash. Come home.
Almost home.
Those two words had been buzzing in Cash’s head for the past seven hours, and he was so anxious for the chopper to land that he couldn’t stop tapping his foot relentlessly and drumming his fingers on his thighs. He’d seen Carson displaying the same jittery eagerness countless times before. Come to think of it, Becker, Ryan and Matt did the whole foot-tap/finger-drum thing too.
Was it a relationship thing? Because their single counterparts, Dylan, Seth and Jackson, looked perfectly at ease as they chatted over the din of the rotors. Cash hid a surprisingly smug smile at the realization that he was officially part of the no-longer-single camp.
Shit, he couldn’t wait to see Jen. He’d missed her something fierce.
He gazed out the window, his pulse racing as the San Diego skyline came into view. The sun hovered over the horizon line, filling the sky with brilliant shades of pink and orange. Made for a damn pretty sight. He wondered if Jen had ever seen the sunset from a helo. If not, he’d have to take her up sometime. After all, he did have that pilot’s license he hardly ever put to use.
“I’m serious, this girl is a royal pain in the ass,” Dylan was saying. “I don’t know what my brother sees in her.”
Cash shifted his gaze to the seat across from him. Dylan had been griping about his older brother’s new girlfriend for the past ten minutes, and Seth, who was sitting next to the guy, finally rolled his eyes and said, “We get it. She’s a bitch. For the love of God, can we talk about something else?”
“Fine. Let’s talk about the chick you had over last week,” Dylan said. He shot the other men in the chopper a grave look. “I slept with the door locked and a knife under my pillow. No joke—I was seriously worried she might murder me in my sleep.”
Seth grinned. “Don’t be an ass. Lisa’s a cool girl.”
“She had a face tattoo, man. And out of curiosity, is there any part of her body that isn’t pierced?”
“Nope.”
Cash chuckled. Seth had the most eclectic tastes when it came to women. Sometimes he went for the shy, fragile ones, other times it was the hardcore goths, then he’d switch it up and date a supermodel, followed by a plain Jane. The guy had no problem sampling every dish on the menu.
As Seth and Dylan’s banter continued, Cash glanced at Carson, who’d been quiet for the entire flight. A helo ride without Carson’s sarcastic remarks was weird, but Cash understood the lieutenant’s somber mood. As far as he knew, Holly still hadn’t moved back home, and Carson being gone for the past three days probably hadn’t helped the situation.
After the chopper touched down on the base, Cash said goodbye to the others and practically sprinted to the parking lot, with Ryan hot on his heels. Since he’d left his car with Jen, he had to rely on Ryan to drop him at their building. Luckily, Evans seemed as eager to get going as Cash did. They were on the road in five minutes flat. While Ryan drove, Cash grabbed his phone from the glove compartment and turned it on. Probably made him a total sap, but when he saw the missed call and message from Jen, his heart did a dumb little flip.
He punched in the pass code for his inbox, desperate to hear Jen’s voice, even if it was via voicemail. Two minutes later, his desperation transformed into a burst of rage.
“Goddamn it.” He slammed his hand on the dash so hard he was surprised the airbag didn’t deploy in his face.
Ryan looked over sharply. “What’s wrong?”
“Fucking Psycho McGee attacked Jen.”
“What? I thought he left town.”
“Apparently he came back. The asshole showed up at Jen’s apartment, muscled his way inside, and fucking attacked her.”
His hands curled into fists. Jen had assured him in the message that she was okay and that Brendan had been arrested, but that didn’t stop Cash from wanting to murder the son of a bitch.
“Is she all right?” Ryan asked.
“She claims she’s fine.” He clenched his teeth. “But who the fuck knows.”
Ryan sped up without needing to be asked. With the Jeep’s top down, the wind hissed in the front seat and slapped Cash’s face as the scenery whizzed past his peripheral vision. The closer they got to their building, the angrier Cash felt. At Brendan. At himself.
Before he could stop it, a rush of guilt flooded his body and tightened his throat. Fuck. He should’ve been here to protect her. Jen hadn’t said much in the message, and she certainly hadn’t sounded accusatory or upset with him, but Cash was upset with himself. What kind of man couldn’t protect the woman he loved?
“Get out here,” Ryan said as he slowed down in front of the building. “I’ll park the car.”
Cash was out of the Jeep before it came to a complete stop. He still wore his dirty fatigues, his boots were caked with dirt and sand from their three-day stint in the desert, but he didn’t give a shit about his appearance. He sprinted up to the second floor, his pulse drumming in tune to his hurried footsteps.
Worry and anger mingled in his blood to form a cocktail of nerves. Jen had said she was okay, but if so much as a hair on her head had been harmed, Cash was going to rip Psycho McGee’s throat out, even if he had to break into the bastard’s jail cell to do it.
“Jen!” he called when he dove through the front door. “Baby, you here?”
No answer.
His heart jammed in his throat. Had she left? She’d said she and Annabelle were heading back here, but granted, the message had been left hours ago.
What if she was gone?
What if she’d changed her mind about being with him?
Cold reality splashed him in the face as he realized he wouldn’t blame her at all for that. He hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed him. And wasn’t that the crux of her no-military thing? That she wanted a man who’d fucking be there?
When he entered the living room and found it empty, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. A quick peek into his bedroom revealed another empty room.
So that was it. She wasn’t here.
“Cash?”
He spun around to find Jen by the bathroom doorway.
For a moment, he was frozen in place. He focused on her swollen left eye, already a ghastly shade of purple. Her lush mouth, pursed in a worried frown. Her long hair falling over one shoulder.
“You’re here,” he breathed in relief.
She cast him a strange look. “Of course I am.”
Cash yanked her into his arms and held her so tight he heard her gasp for air. But he couldn’t help himself. She felt so small and fragile in his arms. He breathed in the sweet feminine scent that was uniquely Jen, and his heart lurched.
He pulled back and gently stroked her cheek, right beneath her swollen eye. “Fuck,” he mumbled. “Oh, fuck, Jen. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It looks worse than it feels.”
The sight of her black eye sent a bolt of anger up his spine. “I’m going to drown the bastard,” he hissed.
A faint smile played over her lips. “First of all, drowning is Carson’s thing. Second, Brendan was arrested, so I suggest we let the cops deal with him. And third—what are you doing home? I figured you’d be gone for longer.”
“I told you it was a minor op,” he reminded her. Self-recrimination poured into him, and he swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Why are you sorry?”
The lump in his throat was so massive he could barely get a word out. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he croaked. “I should’ve been here, but I wasn’t and look what happened—that son of a bitch hurt you.”
“Cash—”
His entire body burned with shame. “Go ahead and do it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Break up with me. I wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind about being with me.” Misery hung on his every word. “You were right—you need a full-time partner. A man who’s going to be there for you and protect you and—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Jen gaped at Cash, wondering if he’d hit his head during his mission. Because he was talking like a crazy person. Kind of looked like a crazy person too, with that wild look in his eyes and the dark scruff covering his face. She’d been so happy to see him when she’d walked out of the bathroom and spotted him in the hall, but the more he babbled on about breaking up, the unhappier she became.
“No, I’m not kidding,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t here for you, and isn’t that what you were afraid of? That you’d be forced to handle everything alone? And you had to fucking handle being assaulted! Holy hell, I should have—”
“Jeez, cowboy, would you shut up already? Nobody’s breaking up with anybody.”
He faltered, a flicker of confusion replacing the feral look in his eyes. “No?”
“No.” She reached up to cup his chin, the stubble there abrading her palms. “It’s not your fault that Brendan showed up. If anyone’s to blame for this, it’s me, for not being more cautious when I went back to my apartment.”
Cash still looked dubious. “You’re not angry that I wasn’t there to protect you?”
“I protected myself just fine. And you know what? As messed up as this sounds, I’m happy Brendan showed up this morning. Now the cops are involved and they can deal with him. Besides, the whole encounter was proof that I can take care of myself. The self-defense training my family shoved down my throat paid off, and I got out of the situation with nothing but a black eye when it could’ve been a lot worse.” She smiled. “So no, I’m not angry with you. And hell no, I’m not dumping you. I was strong enough to deal with my psycho ex, and I’m definitely strong enough to be in this relationship with you.”
Before she could blink, Cash tugged her into his arms again and kissed her. His lips were firm, his tongue insistent, his beard growth prickly as it scraped her chin. The kiss robbed her of breath and made her heart pound, and when they broke apart, the relief in his eyes was unmistakable.
“You mean it, right? You’re okay that I wasn’t here when you needed me? Because it could happen again. The military is my life. I will be gone at times.”
She traced his lips with her fingers. “I know. And I can handle that. We can make this work.” She paused. “And anyway, you won’t be the only traveling partner in this relationship.”
He cocked a brow. “Oh really?”
“Uh-huh. In fact, I’m flying to Lake Tahoe Wednesday morning. It’s just a day trip, but it still counts as travel, right?”
“Is this your way of telling me you got the job?” he teased.
“Yep.”
She yelped when he lifted her off her feet and hugged her. His happiness was contagious, making her forget about this morning’s terrifying showdown with Brendan and reminding her of all the incredible things she had going in her life.
“I knew you’d get it,” he said.
Her heart constricted as he bent down to capture her lips in another deep kiss that left her tingling in all the right places.
“I’m so damn proud of you,” he went on, sweeping his thumb over her lower lip. “I believed in you from the start, and I’m glad you’re finally believing in yourself.”
“I am,” she agreed. Emotion clogged her throat. “And even more than that, I believe in you, Cash. I believe in us.”
