Page 99 of Summer Heat
“How long you been under?”
“Months. Since the start of spring—”
“So you were sleeping with him?” Cash interrupted.
He was going to out himself to Roman if he wasn’t careful. Then the three of them would have that discussion to deal with.
Then again, Roman looked shell-shocked. He wasn’t registering Cash’s attitude.
“No. I wasn’t.” She smirked at him. “I was seducing him. Ignoring his advances made his interest in me grow. A manipulative game of cat and mouse. So no, Cash, I didn’t fuck him.”
Rocco laughed. “Cash doesn’t know anything about women not fucking him. You might have to explain seduction to the man because they just throw themselves at him. He doesn’t have to lay groundwork.”
Roman laughed too. It was her turn for a flash-bang of jealousy. Cash glared at Rocco, who apparently took to heart the just-one-of-the-guys line she’d thrown down.
Cash was handsome, more so than when they were younger. His blond hair could use a haircut, but he was missing his trademark life-is-good attitude. She missed his smile, focusing instead on the width of his chest. All three men had muscles, but Cash was something to appreciate. Even his face looked strong with a hard jaw line that flexed when he tried to contain any number of emotions he had to be feeling.
Nicola continued. “My op was blown when you took out your target. I called in for an extraction plan. There was another team there. Not sure what happened or why, but they went after me. I did what I needed to.”
Roman looked up. “And that was?”
“I shot out a window, jumped two stories, and ran into you assholes.” She tried for a smile, a little humor, but got nothing. A-plus for effort though.
Eyes wide and jaw hanging, Cash asked, “You shot a window?”
Mirroring Cash’s expression, Roman added, “And jumped out?”
“Hey, I’m not an asshole. Just so you know.” Rocco laughed. Weird. Cash was always the one laughing in her memories, and now he was without jokes and zingers.
“Guess I’m not what you remember,” Nicola whispered, stealing a glance at Cash.
Roman stood, rubbing his tattoo. It was beautiful, and it was a lie. How did she ever think it was right to hurt them?
“Nicola.” He kissed her head. “That’s enough for me. For now. I’m headed to bed, knowing you’re alive. Best damn thing ever. And tomorrow, we’ll talk about calling Mom and Dad.”
She nodded.
Roman continued, “Cash, Rocco, good night, assholes.”
Rocco stood, nodded, and bowed out without a word, leaving just her and Cash. Her and Cash and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. She nudged the bottle toward him. “Want another?”
Silence hung in the air.
She nudged it again. “How about this: do you need another?”
A smile cracked the thick tension on his chiseled face. “That would be a hell yes.”
It wasn’t a joke, but it was more his style. She wished he would smile the way he used to. Big and brawny, but so damn beautiful. Just once. “Me, too.”
He poured them both a shot and watched her down the liquor.
“Down the hatch, like a pro. Like shooting Jack?”
“I’m pretty good at a lot of things now, but I’m more of a Jim kinda gal.”
“You were before too. Good at things and a fan of sweet bourbon. But you dressed your drinks up frou-frou style.”
“But I’m… a different person now.”
