bar.”
“I lied.” Dylan’s normally lazy voice turned serious. “If Carson said hands-off, then listen to him. You know what they say about playing with fire…”
“Yeah, yeah, you get burned.”
“No, you get drowned.” With a hearty laugh, Dylan hung up.
Chapter Four
Un-freaking-believable.
Jen snuck a sidelong look at Cash as he parked his black Ford Escape at the curb in front of the ice cream parlor. The entire car ride over, he’d been making idle conversation and acting like they were nothing but a pair of buddies going out for ice cream.
It was disconcerting to realize that he hadn’t been kidding about keeping things platonic between them. Not that she was some sex-crazed nympho who couldn’t keep her pants on, but come on. Their chemistry at the Tavern had nearly set the place on fire. And she hadn’t missed that tent situation under his pants earlier—an entire Boy Scout troop could’ve camped under there.
At least he wasn’t denying the chemistry between them. His admission that he desired her had been a definite ego boost…until he’d announced that he wouldn’t be acting on that attraction.
Because of her brother .
And you’re surprised because…?
True. Why was she surprised? Carson had been doing the whole macho big-brother bullshit her entire life. He’d scared away more potential boyfriends than she could count. He’d ruined her first kiss by bursting onto the porch, pulling Ben Sampson off her mid-liplock, and ordering Ben to keep his tongue in his own mouth. And who could forget prom night, when Carson guaranteed she wouldn’t lose her virginity by informing her date of all the ways he could kill a man thanks to his military training.
And then when she’d finally lost her virginity to Kyle Parker, Carson was the one who sent Kyle running by giving him a speech about condoms and threatening to drown him if he knocked her up.
To drown him. Who threatened to drown people, for Pete’s sake?
And now her brother had gotten to Cash, the only man who’d ever managed to arouse her by merely breathing. His military status squashed any notion of something long lasting between them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge in a little fling as long as they were living together. She got the feeling that sleeping with Cash would be a whole new experience, an introduction to the kind of sex she’d always craved—wild, passionate, uninhibited. But Carson had officially thrown yet another wrench in her love life.
“So you weren’t kidding the other day when you mentioned a crazy ex,” Cash remarked.
“I never kid about stalkers,” she answered with a sigh.
A bell dinged as they walked through the door of the ice cream parlor. Jen made a beeline for the counter and ordered without glancing at the menu posted on the wall. “Two scoops of Choctastic Verryberry Swirl in a waffle cone,” she told the pimply-faced kid who greeted her. “And a to-go gallon of the same flavor.”
Cash whistled. “As your friend, I should warn you that all that ice cream can’t be good for your figure.”
She bestowed him a sweet smile. “As the woman you refuse to sleep with, I should tell you that my figure is none of your concern.”
The kid behind the counter coughed and averted his eyes. “Um. What can I get you?” he asked Cash in a squeaky pubescent voice.
“Double scoop of rocky road. Waffle cone.”
After they paid for their cones and stepped outside, Jen headed for the wooden bench out front, but Cash took her arm and led her back to the SUV. “We’ll sit in the car,” he announced.
“We can’t eat ice cream in your air-conditioned car, cowboy. You’re supposed to eat ice cream outside, where it’s hot and sunny so the cold ice cream hits the spot.”
Unfazed, he dragged her to the passenger door. “Considering your knowledge of obscure ice cream flavors, you probably come to this place a lot. Which means Psycho McGee probably knows that. Which means he might
“I lied.” Dylan’s normally lazy voice turned serious. “If Carson said hands-off, then listen to him. You know what they say about playing with fire…”
“Yeah, yeah, you get burned.”
“No, you get drowned.” With a hearty laugh, Dylan hung up.
Chapter Four
Un-freaking-believable.
Jen snuck a sidelong look at Cash as he parked his black Ford Escape at the curb in front of the ice cream parlor. The entire car ride over, he’d been making idle conversation and acting like they were nothing but a pair of buddies going out for ice cream.
It was disconcerting to realize that he hadn’t been kidding about keeping things platonic between them. Not that she was some sex-crazed nympho who couldn’t keep her pants on, but come on. Their chemistry at the Tavern had nearly set the place on fire. And she hadn’t missed that tent situation under his pants earlier—an entire Boy Scout troop could’ve camped under there.
At least he wasn’t denying the chemistry between them. His admission that he desired her had been a definite ego boost…until he’d announced that he wouldn’t be acting on that attraction.
Because of her brother .
And you’re surprised because…?
True. Why was she surprised? Carson had been doing the whole macho big-brother bullshit her entire life. He’d scared away more potential boyfriends than she could count. He’d ruined her first kiss by bursting onto the porch, pulling Ben Sampson off her mid-liplock, and ordering Ben to keep his tongue in his own mouth. And who could forget prom night, when Carson guaranteed she wouldn’t lose her virginity by informing her date of all the ways he could kill a man thanks to his military training.
And then when she’d finally lost her virginity to Kyle Parker, Carson was the one who sent Kyle running by giving him a speech about condoms and threatening to drown him if he knocked her up.
To drown him. Who threatened to drown people, for Pete’s sake?
And now her brother had gotten to Cash, the only man who’d ever managed to arouse her by merely breathing. His military status squashed any notion of something long lasting between them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge in a little fling as long as they were living together. She got the feeling that sleeping with Cash would be a whole new experience, an introduction to the kind of sex she’d always craved—wild, passionate, uninhibited. But Carson had officially thrown yet another wrench in her love life.
“So you weren’t kidding the other day when you mentioned a crazy ex,” Cash remarked.
“I never kid about stalkers,” she answered with a sigh.
A bell dinged as they walked through the door of the ice cream parlor. Jen made a beeline for the counter and ordered without glancing at the menu posted on the wall. “Two scoops of Choctastic Verryberry Swirl in a waffle cone,” she told the pimply-faced kid who greeted her. “And a to-go gallon of the same flavor.”
Cash whistled. “As your friend, I should warn you that all that ice cream can’t be good for your figure.”
She bestowed him a sweet smile. “As the woman you refuse to sleep with, I should tell you that my figure is none of your concern.”
The kid behind the counter coughed and averted his eyes. “Um. What can I get you?” he asked Cash in a squeaky pubescent voice.
“Double scoop of rocky road. Waffle cone.”
After they paid for their cones and stepped outside, Jen headed for the wooden bench out front, but Cash took her arm and led her back to the SUV. “We’ll sit in the car,” he announced.
“We can’t eat ice cream in your air-conditioned car, cowboy. You’re supposed to eat ice cream outside, where it’s hot and sunny so the cold ice cream hits the spot.”
Unfazed, he dragged her to the passenger door. “Considering your knowledge of obscure ice cream flavors, you probably come to this place a lot. Which means Psycho McGee probably knows that. Which means he might
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