Braving Cash

  Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  Epilogue

  About

  1

  Sasha

  Oh my God! I can’t believe I’m sitting here with all these kick-ass women. Years ago, when I was in college, I did some temp work for a large company in Seattle. But after graduating with a degree in graphic art, I took a job with a boutique marketing firm out in the hinterlands of the Peninsula before branching out on my own as a full-time freelancer. So I haven’t been involved with the big corporate world or seen so many people in one room at the same time since then. It’s somewhat intimidating, particularly when you consider that this is just a fraction of the people that are (or will be) here for their annual war games.

  Looking around the large tent, I feel like a complete impostor. These women are confident. And I know they don’t have a military background either, but at least they’re used to working with people that do. They know how to handle themselves and it shows. I’m a graphic designer. My expertise lies with handling an art director having an overly dramatic hissy fit over video conference. But something tells me Alpha Corps runs to a completely different kind of drama. I take a deep breath in to steady myself.

  I don’t really belong here. I’m not even a regular ACI employee. I only got hired on in a temporary capacity because I’m Mia and Alexei’s neighbor. And a neighbor to the property being used for the games, so there’s that. But basically I’m unskilled help when it comes to this event. And Mia had most everything to do with my being a part of it. She’s not been very subtle about her intent to match make this summer either, but I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders. The last ten years or so have proved I’m not irresistible to men and since I don’t go in for one-night stands, I can almost guarantee nothing’s going to happen. But Mia and Alexei are so damn cute together, I don’t want to spoil Mia’s fun. She’ll get tired of pushing men in front of me eventually, probably sooner if, as I expect, they all shrug and turn away. And if one didn’t, well, maybe my pride would feel a little better, particularly if one Cash Travers were to be there to see it.

  I sigh, inspecting the nails of my left hand. I need a manicure. A real one, not the chemical torture that passes for it at the Nailed It! Salon on Anemone Avenue.

  My thoughts drift back to my smarting pride. Even if one of the guys that are only here temporarily did ask me out, Cash probably wouldn’t even notice. And if he did, wouldn’t spare it a second thought. It’s been ten days since I tried to ask him out myself and failed miserably. I still can’t decide if it’s more embarrassing to ask a guy out on a date and be turned down, or for him to not comprehend that you were asking him out in the first place. I am absolutely not going back for a do-over to get a definitive answer on that one.

  I glance across the giant tent to where Mia is resting her ever-present clipboard on top of her barely there baby bump. I’m kind of surprised it took them this long to have another kid. Every time Alexei asks me to babysit for an hour I get hot thinking about all the baby-making activity going on in their house. The way he looks at his wife could start a forest fire in a driving rainstorm. Which isn’t why I watch the twins, of course. The girls are adorable and I figure I should have some young pseudo nieces looking out for me when I’m old and gray (and still single).

  No, Geneva and Amelie are just plain fun and we have a good time doing whatever they’re into at the moment. Last time it was catching raindrops on our tongues. The time before that it was working out how to show that they’re now three and a half with their fingers. The fraction was a challenge as they insisted loudly that they were not three. I can’t wait to have a new baby to add to the mix. Because something tells me Alexei and Mia could have a houseful and still need the house to themselves for an hour or two (sometimes three) on a regular basis. They think I’m doing them a huge favor, but really I’m getting my kid fix as part of coming to terms with the fact that it’s increasingly unlikely I’ll ever have a chance to have any of my own. I’m not prepared to go the single route on that one. Not yet.

  Now I’m just getting maudlin, so I give myself a good shake and clap over-enthusiastically when the speaker finally stops talking and announces lunch.

  “That bad, huh?” the woman next to me asks with a laugh.

  I glance her way with a smile. “Honestly, I wasn’t following much, but I needed to shake myself awake.”

  “You and me both. Hey, I’m Lennox, Lenny to my friends. Want to sit together at lunch?”

  “Sasha. And sure, that would be great.” And just like that, I’m back in middle school making friends in the lunch line on the first day of classes. Some things never change.

  It turns out that because today is for the early arrivals, they don’t even have the kitchen fully set up, so we get bagged lunches with simple sandwiches and pre-packaged food from a big box store. Lenny and I grab seats at the end of one of the big cafeteria tables.

  “I’m not looking forward to eating this for the next two weeks.” Lenny eyes her sandwich with puzzlement, peering at the pureed filling between the two triangles of bread.

  I nod and take a tentative bite. I can’t tell if it’s chicken or tofu. The overwhelming taste of basil is disguising everything else. “I’ll probably mostly eat at home. I need to go let my dog out, anyway.”

  Lenny’s eyes widen. “You live here?”

  I nod again, my curls bouncing. “Right next door. I’m really a graphic designer but they hired me to help out with the on the ground stuff. I think I’ll be busy for the next few days and then not so busy and then frantic with wrap-up, getting everyone down to the boats for departure. That kind of thing.”

  “Well, I can see this would be a quiet place to raise a family. You got kids?” Lenny’s expression is simply one of mild interest.

  “No. I borrow Mia’s sometimes. There aren’t a lot of single men on the island. They can all make more money on the mainland, so they don’t have much reason to stay.” I sigh wistfully, thinking of Cash. He’ll head back to his unit soon, I’m sure, and then I’ll probably not see him again. Not like I’ve seen too much of him recently. I’m too embarrassed to accidentally ‘find him’ around town again.

  Lenny eyes me skeptically like she can read my thoughts, but she just nods and keeps whatever she’s thinking to herself. And I figure as long as nobody but me knows that Cash was oblivious to my overtures, then it never really happened, so I’m not keen to talk about it.

  Cash

  Embrace Island is a fucking weird place. Or maybe that should be weird fucking place. Because you can’t. At least, not if you were raised on the island. Not without being talked about openly at the diner, or the post office, or the old men’s gossip group down at the marina. And then there’s the betting pool in the hardware store as to when the relationship will break up. Unless you follow all the rules. A buddy from high school once called it a cult. It’s not, but it can be a bit like the Amish without the old-fashioned clothes and outdated farm equipment. I blame it on too many people seeing the same faces day after day during the winter months. They get bored. This is their idea of entertainment.

  Tourists can do what they like and nobody blinks because they’ll be gone before the snow falls. But locals… not so much. I thought that when I left the island at eighteen to join the Army that I was done with all that shit. And no, I wasn’t a virgin by the time I left, but then Gina Hennessy wasn’t much for the rules, either. Luckily for my parents’ sake, her name was already linked with ‘wild’, so she
was never publicly associated with me. I still felt bad for her though and I hear she moved off-island two years later when she got pregnant. I certainly don’t feel an ounce of guilt when I occasionally hook up with a woman out in the real world. But then, in all of those previous cases, neither the woman nor I expected anything permanent or even very long term.

  Coming back on extended leave as a thirty-two-year-old man to visit my parents, I wasn’t expecting Sasha. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to get sucked back into the weird-ass customs of the place formerly known by a rather rude word relating to a woman’s pussy. The island’s name was changed when a group of shopkeepers got together. They formed a chamber of commerce and decided the brochure was likely to get banned on the mainland.

  None of this is Sasha’s fault. I’d bet a month’s salary she doesn’t even know this stuff goes on. She may have lived here for a few years, but you aren’t a local unless the entire town has seen you in diapers. And your father in diapers too, and I don’t mean the senior kind.

  So I was more than a little aggravated when I was about to ask Sasha if she wanted to grab pie at the diner only to have my dad pull me aside and inform me, “She lives here, son. You can’t ask her on a date unless you take her to the hardware store first.”

  I remember blinking and clenching my jaw in rage. Until common sense sunk in and I realized Dad was right. I don’t live here anymore, but if I take Sasha out without following local customs, I’ll be making life difficult for her after I leave. Because they all know that I know the rules, so the locals will assume I’m treating her carelessly, even if we don’t fuck or even kiss. And I am leaving. I’ve got three more weeks left of leave, having had to wait a few years to be free to take any, but then I’m reporting to duty in Hawaii.

  A smart man would simply sidestep the curvy woman with the sexy blonde curls and move on with his life. But I can’t seem to get her out of my head.

  At the same time, officially declaring my intent to ‘court’ Sasha seems dishonest. I just want to take the woman out. Okay, I wouldn’t turn down fucking her if she was open to it, because she’s seriously hot in that completely unaware of it way. It’s obvious that flirting and dressing sexy to attract a man aren’t high on her priority list because she has a million other things she’s into and thinking about. For some reason, that makes me want to follow her around, to be the one that catches her attention and wins her smiles. But I’m not looking for a wife. Not anytime soon, and probably not ever. Definitely not with the entire island watching my every move.

  So I’m leaving her alone. Even if my eyes track for a hint of her presence everywhere I go. I haven’t seen her for a few weeks, which makes me wonder if she’s okay. I’m about ready to ask my sister if she’s heard anything when I hear Sasha’s name being mentioned in the booth kitty-corner to mine. I slide over just an inch so I can see who’s talking. This is my parents’ pub, so I’ve been hanging out in the back corner, nursing a pint, and catching up with the family in between customers. I offered to help, but my mom pushed me down into the booth and frowned at me until I gave in.

  The couple next door is curiously out of place on this island. Or at least they would have been fifteen years ago. Things are clearly changing. The man looks vaguely familiar, and the woman is pretty and glowingly pregnant. I know this mostly because the man keeps telling her, “Mia, eat. The baby needs it.” Her reply is so automatic I don’t think she even thinks before she speaks, “Alexei, I’m fine. The baby is fine. Stop fussing. I love you.”

  Alexei. That’s when it comes to me, why he looks familiar. I’ve heard of him. He’s legendary in the dark world of military cyber warfare. They say he could find out what you’re thinking long before your brain forms the sentences. He retired a few years ago, but people still talk about him. It’s hard to reconcile that shadowy persona with the man currently forcing french fries on his wife.

  His wife, on the other hand, is not as impressed with his accomplishments as I am. Odds are good, she doesn’t even know most of it. Hell, even I don’t know most of it. “So, did you see anyone that would be a good fit for Sasha? I was kind of thinking about Oldham, but then I found out he doesn’t believe in wearing deodorant.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

  Alexei sighs. “Leave her alone, Mia. If she even wants to find a man, Sasha is perfectly capable of doing so on her own.”

  “Piff.” Mia dismisses that with a wave of her hand. “Where, exactly? There are like five single men over eighteen on this island normally, and none of them will do. You’re just worried about losing your babysitter.”

  I watch, fascinated, as he leans closer to his wife and whispers something that has her smiling and blushing a fiery red all at the same time.

  She gets back on her agenda pretty fast, though. “Well, if you aren’t going to help, I’m going to spend some time tomorrow at breakfast looking the crowd over. You can get the girls ready for the day. There’s got to be the perfect man for her in there somewhere.”

  That’s when something in my gut twists painfully hard. How dare this woman try to steal my girl away for some other guy? Sasha is mine. I’m halfway out of my seat to set her straight when reality hits and I sink back down, stunned.

  2

  Cash

  Two things hit me at that moment. One, that I may have unintentionally pushed Sasha away a few weeks ago, and two, if that sends her into the arms of another man, I might kill him. Neither makes me feel like a warm ray of sunshine. I’ve no idea what to do about it, not practically because I’m not staying. And other than a few short visits every couple of years, I’ve no intentions of returning either.

  I need to talk to her. I’m desperate to kiss her until she’s blind to any other man between the ages of twenty and eighty while I try to figure this out. My mother gives me the side-eye as I stand and bus my own table. She’s visibly biting her tongue, the curiosity leaking out of her dark eyes while her hands twist the white dishtowel. But she’s biased so I don’t ask her opinion. Instead, I drop a quick peck on her cheek. “I’ll be back, probably not until after supper, so don’t wait on me.”

  “Cash…” Her voice is hesitant with worry. There are new lines at the corners of her eyes and I suddenly realize that while in many ways my parents seem timeless and no different from when I first enlisted, they’re aging.

  “I’m fine, Mom. Really.” My long legs carry me out of the pub before she can guilt me into revealing everything.

  I don’t know how I know where Sasha lives, but I instinctively head for the remote stretch near the old base. Her last name is on the mailbox and I take the porch stairs two at a time. But the house is dark and silent. I knock anyway. But I’m not surprised when nobody comes to the door. Has she already moved on and is out on a date with some other guy? I pace the narrow porch, my hands instinctively fisting, ready to take on my unknown rival, when I finally see her blond curls moving closer on the other side of a hedge. My hand scrubs over my face in frustration. I have no idea what to say.

  “Cash?” Sasha’s normally cheerful voice is strained, cautious. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you,” I grunt.

  “Um, okay.” She brushes past me, her delicate citrus scent wafting up to my nose and setting my libido on fire. I want to breathe her in. Instead, I follow her into the old house, pausing in the entry as she flicks on a few lights. Then we’re standing in the living room, which is comfortably messy. A soft gray throw is haphazardly spread over a blue floral sofa.

  “Well?” The way her hands twist reminds me of my mother. I must inspire something in the women closest to me. I shake my head to clear it. Focus, you idiot. I remind myself.

  “I’m not staying.”

  “In my living room or on the island?” Sasha looks mildly amused.

  “Either. Both. Fuck.”

  “While you figure out what you’re here to say, I need to let Wally out.”

  “Who the fuck is Wally?”

  She pu
lls open a door I hadn’t noticed and a giant beast of a dog emerges. “This is Wally,” she says dryly before gracefully moving to open the kitchen door before the dog puts his huge head through the glass.

  I sag down onto the couch and nearly have a heart attack when there’s a maniacal squeak from under my ass. I fish out the dog toy that had been hiding under the throw and try to force my heart rate to return to a normal pattern.

  “Sasha,” I start when she re-enters the room.

  “Cash,” she responds with something bordering on sarcasm.

  “There are things you don’t know about this island. If people knew I was here, they’d…” I try to find the right words.

  “They’d what? Think I wasn’t good enough for their favorite prodigal son?” Definitely sarcasm now.

  “No! It’s… If I don’t take you to the hardware store, they’ll call you a tart, and if I do, they’ll start a betting pool on the wedding date. I was trying to spare you all that but then I heard… you are not allowed to sleep with anyone else, got that?” I’m glaring at her like this is all her fault which might have something to do with why her eyes are swallowing her face. She sits down carefully on the other side of the room as if she doesn’t want to provoke me with any sudden movements.

  “Who exactly is it that will call me a tart? And how old are they because even my grandmother didn’t use that term.” Sasha’s biting her lip like she’s trying not to laugh.

  “People. The island. Everyone that thinks spending an hour at the hardware store is a social requirement for Sunday afternoon.”

  “I see. Maybe. So if you and I were on the mainland, say in Seattle what would we be doing right now?”

  “I’d be taking you to dinner in the hopes that you’d invite me to stay over after,” I answer bluntly, not even taking the time to sugarcoat my words.

  Sasha blushes and casts her eyes down, but I notice her lips turn up at the corners ever so slightly. “Hmm. And what exactly does a visit to the hardware store entail? I’m not familiar with that local custom, but then I’ve never gone in for more than a few screws to fix a loose board.”