Hot Zone

  An Out of Uniform Novella

  Elle Kennedy

  Contents

  Hot Zone

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Other Titles by Elle Kennedy

  About the Author

  Hot Zone

  Giving up control has never been so hard…

  * * *

  Navy SEAL Cash McCoy knows all about danger—he lives and breathes it on a daily basis. When it comes to the love of his life, though, this alpha soldier does everything in his power to keep Jen Scott happy and safe. But when the tables are turned and Jen places herself in harm’s way for her job, their relationship is put to the test. Now Cash must learn to trust the woman he loves…or lose her forever.

  1

  “You know what they say, dude—bigger is better.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Cash McCoy tipped his head in contemplation as he studied the display case. “But I also hear people say that small and subtle goes a long way.”

  “Name three people who have ever said that to you,” Dylan Wade shot back, then hurried on before Cash could open his mouth. “Nobody says that. Seriously, when was the last time a chick looked at a ten-inch cock and thought, ‘Gee, I wish this was four inches.’”

  “Ahem!”

  The loud interjection came from the stodgy older man behind the counter. With his perfectly groomed white hair and crisp gray suit, the owner of the store looked like he belonged on the set of Downton Abbey. He conveyed visible disapproval as he stared at the two T-shirt-clad men in his shop.

  Awesome. Now they had no shot in hell of getting any sort of deal from the guy.

  Cash glared at Dylan, silently reprimanding him for tossing out the word cock in front of a man who clearly hadn’t had sex since the 1800s. Or if he had, it’d been in a shroud of darkness and underneath five blankets.

  “Excuse us,” Cash said hastily. He practically dragged his friend and teammate toward the other side of the store. “Don’t screw this up for me,” he hissed.

  “Me?” Dylan’s green eyes shone with innocence.

  Which was total bullshit, because the blond-haired SEAL was the furthest thing from innocent. Dylan was in a committed threesome relationship, for fuck’s sake.

  Not that Cash was judging or anything. He wholly approved of both of Dylan’s partners—Aidan Rhodes was a stand-up guy, and Claire McKinley was a goddess. In fact, Claire was currently distracting Cash’s girlfriend with a coffee date while he carried out this covert op.

  An engagement ring.

  He’d never thought he’d see the day. Up until three years ago, he’d been perfectly content with his bachelor lifestyle. Brief flings and casual affairs had been his MO, but then he’d met Jen Scott, and all that had changed.

  He loved the woman. So damn much that sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat after dreaming that he’d lost her. He wouldn’t survive without her. Jen was like a brilliant explosion of sunlight. Smart, funny, beautiful, compassionate. And her sincerity and honesty had definitely rubbed off on him. He’d always been gruff and awkward when it came to talking about his emotions, but he’d learned how to open up during his time with Jen.

  She made his life better. She made him better.

  “Your wisecracks are making Peter nervous,” Cash accused.

  “Peter the Prude can survive hearing the word cock. Might do him some good.” Dylan crossed his arms. “And you’re screwing this up for yourself. Women like having big rocks on their fingers. It’s a fact. Like gravity.”

  “She bawled her eyes out when we watched Blood Diamond. A big diamond might freak her out. What if she thinks child soldiers died for it?”

  “For chrissake, that’s why you researched this stupid place. Our man Peter already told you all the rings come with a certificate that says it’s not a conflict diamond. And it’s not like you can’t afford a big shiny rock. Your millionaire parents are fronting half the cost.” Dylan raised his eyebrows in challenge. “So go big or go home.”

  His friend did have a point, though Cash still felt guilty about accepting money from his folks. They’d won a major lottery jackpot when Cash’s mother was pregnant with him, and had invested the money wisely over the years. When he’d told his parents about his plans to propose to Jen, his dad insisted on paying for the ring, but Cash had resisted. He wasn’t too proud to accept money from his folks—they’d paid his way through college—but Jen was his girl, and he was damn well going to pay for her engagement ring.

  But his dad hadn’t taken no for an answer, and in the end Cash conceded to letting his folks pay for half. Which meant his budget was kinda huge.

  “Fine,” he decided. “We’ll go big.”

  “Thank you.” Dylan dragged him to one of the glass cases and pointed to a ring. “How about that one?”

  He furrowed his brow. “It’s got a weird shape.”

  “It’s a marquise cut, dumbass. And look at the clarity—nearly flawless. Plus the white-gold band? Motherfuckin’ classy.”

  “I’m scared to ask why you know so much about engagement rings.”

  Dylan let out a sigh. “Claire likes those shitty wedding reality shows, and she forces me and Aidan to watch ’em with her. There’s this one called Ring My Bell—dude, you should see some of these chicks. They drag their boyfriends to a million jewelry stores and throw honest-to-God tantrums when they can’t find something that fits their budget. They’re cuckoo-fucking-crazy. Seriously. And their poor fiancés are clueless.”

  Before Cash could comment on Dylan’s surprising amount of passion toward Ring My Bell, their teammate Seth Masterson strode into the shop, a deep scowl on his rugged face.

  “The parking situation out there is messed up!” Seth stared accusingly at the man behind the counter. “You know there’s a huge gravel plot right behind this store, right? Ever thought about turning it into a parking lot?”

  Peter responded with a scowl of his own, and a tightly voiced, “No.”

  “But it makes so much more sense than forcing your customers to park on the street,” Seth insisted. “All that empty space back there is a waste.”

  Cash stifled a groan when he noticed the growing irritation in Peter’s eyes. “Don’t mind him,” he called to the storeowner. “He thinks he’s a city planner.”

  “I should be a city planner,” Seth shot back. “I’d be amazing at it. I’ve got a really good sense of space.”

  “More like a good sense of stupid,” Dylan cracked.

  Seth flipped him the bird.

  “Seriously, just stick to what you’re good at,” Dylan said helpfully. “Being an asshole.”

  Cash grinned when Seth didn’t bother denying the charge. Masterson was a pain in the ass who never knew when to keep his mouth shut. And although Seth was now happily married with two kids, marriage and fatherhood hadn’t smoothed out his rough edges. He was still the same smartass he’d always been.

  Cash wouldn’t last a day without him, though. Or any of his friends, for that matter. They were more than teammates who watched each other’s backs on ops—they were brothers, and he wouldn’t have chosen anybody else to accompany him today.

  “Shit,” he blurted as a thought suddenly occurred to him. “What if she says no?”

  His friends snickered.

  “I’m serious. We’re acting like yes is a given, but what if Jen doesn’t want to marry me?”

  Dylan sighed. “Of course she wants to marry you. Dude, that girl adores you.”

  Yeah, she did. Of course she did. They were already living together, for fuck’s sake. If Jen hadn’t wanted a serious commitment from him, she wouldn’t have signed her name on that lease.

  If it were up to him, he would’ve proposed to her a long time ago, but he’d forced himself to wait and give Jen time to focus on her career. She was finally making a name for herself as a photographer, frequently being featured in big magazines and going on assignment every few weeks. She’d worked hard to reach that place, but now that she was finding success, Cash was ready to take their relationship to the next level.

  The forever one.

  “Okay, how about this?” He gestured to a two-karat round diamond affixed on a simple silver band.

  “Too plain,” Dylan said immediately.

  He pointed to the ring beside it.

  “Too flashy,” Seth piped up.

  To Cash’s aggravation, that was how the next five minutes progressed. Every time he suggested a ring, his friends shot him down like a sniper.

  “Too boring.”

  “Too tacky.”

  “Too pink—you don’t want a pink diamond, bro. That’s what Ben Affleck got J-Lo, and we all know how that turned out.”

  “Do we?” Seth said blankly. “Because I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

  “It was all over the news!” Dylan exclaimed.

  Seth narrowed his eyes. “Recently?”

  “Yeah, like last week or something. Or maybe it was last year.”

  Seth pulled out his phone. “Siri,” he ordered, “when did Ben Affleck propose to Jell-O?”

  “J-Lo,” Dylan corrected with a grin.

  Siri recited, “Ben Affleck proposed to Jennifer Lopez in 2002, when she was in Boston visiting his family—”

  “It was almost two decades ago!” Seth said incredulously.
He shook his head at Dylan. “Last year, my ass.”

  “Wow. Of all the dumb facts for my memory to retain, right?”

  “Guys. Seriously.” Cash raked both hands through his hair. “You aren’t helping at all. All you’re doing is fighting and shooting down my suggestions.”

  Dylan and Seth were suddenly best buds again.

  “Then make better suggestions,” Seth retorted.

  “Yeah, then we wouldn’t have to tell you how stupid they are,” Dylan chimed in.

  “Ahem.”

  This time Cash was grateful for the interruption. Although Peter was frowning, Cash noted the flicker of amusement in the older man’s eyes.

  “Maybe I can be of assistance?” he prompted.

  “At this point, any assistance is better than what these two are giving me,” Cash muttered.

  “Do you love this woman?”

  Seth rolled his eyes. “No, he’s proposing to her because he hates her.”

  The wisecrack went unacknowledged as Peter continued to study Cash’s face.

  “Of course I do,” Cash answered gruffly.

  “Good. Now, if you could describe your lady in one word, what would it be?”

  That summoned a snort from Seth, but Cash ignored his friend and thought it over. He pictured Jen’s heart-stoppingly beautiful face, her big blue eyes and long golden hair. Her awe-inspiring energy. The way she babbled like a third-grader when she was excited. The brilliant smile she gave him every time he entered the room.

  He swallowed, then cleared his throat to dislodge the emotion clogging his windpipe.

  “Sunshine,” he finally said. “She’s sunshine.”

  To his surprise, neither of his friends made a smartass remark.

  Peter broke out in a broad smile. “I know just the one.”

  Jen sipped her jasmine tea, watching her friend over the rim of the mug as she waited for a response to her big news. Or at least she considered it big news. Her editor had called this morning offering her the assignment of a lifetime, but from the uneasy way Claire McKinley was drumming her fingernails on the table, you’d think Jen had been asked to assassinate the president.

  “Well?” she demanded, her impatience spilling over.

  Claire tucked a strand of reddish-brown hair behind her ear. “Honestly? It sounds dangerous.”

  “Well, yeah. There are some risks. But I’ll have a marine escort, not to mention an entire local military unit looking out for me. My editor says they’ll take every precaution to keep me safe.”

  Claire’s brown eyes flickered with doubt. “Forgive me if I don’t place too much trust in the local military. There’s a reason we’re sending our marines down there—it’s because the locals aren’t equipped to deal with the violence. Honduras isn’t safe these days, hon. There’ve been two major abductions there in the past six months, and I saw on the news that some towns are completely overrun by gangs. Criminals take over entire city blocks. And don’t get me started on the drug cartels.”

  “I won’t be encountering any drug cartels,” Jen protested. “The story is about poverty, and it’s not like I’ll be interviewing people. I’m just there to take pictures. Rick’s sending me to a village south of La Ceiba, and then a small town west of that. Nowhere else.”

  Claire shook her head, visibly concerned. “It’s not safe,” she repeated. “Not for the locals, not for Americans, and especially not an American who looks like you.”

  A spark of resentment lit her belly. She wanted to ask what her appearance had to do with it, but she already knew the answer to that. Her looks had always been a thorn in her professional life, the main reason why so many people didn’t take her seriously. They got one glimpse at her shiny hair and big eyes and pretty face, and assumed she was an airhead. Or worse, a weak little damsel who couldn’t take care of herself. She encountered plenty of judgy, condescending people when she was on assignment, but luckily her photographs spoke for themselves. She was good at what she did, and her editor was finally giving her a shot to prove it. A real shot.

  In the three years she’d been freelancing for Today’s World, her jobs had focused on US politics rather than overseas conflicts. This Honduras assignment was the first one that could actually garner national attention for her. A photo essay she could actually sink her teeth into compared to snapping pictures of senators or political events.

  “What does Cash think about it?” Claire asked carefully.

  “I haven’t told him yet. I wanted to run it by you first.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you’re smart and levelheaded, and you also know that some things are worth the risk.”

  Claire’s unorthodox relationship was proof of that. Jen knew her friend had taken a big risk when she’d gotten involved with two men. Her family had nearly disowned her, she’d lost her cushy high-paying job, she’d dealt with whispers and nasty comments from people who didn’t understand her choices. But Claire had loved Dylan and Aidan enough to face the unwelcome consequences.

  “Fine, I’ll give you that. But shacking up with two men isn’t exactly on the same danger level as putting yourself in the line of fire. And by the way, quit selling yourself short. You’re smart too, Jen. And just as levelheaded.”

  “Tell that to my brother,” she grumbled. “He still treats me like a child.”

  “Carson is overprotective because he loves you. But he knows you can take care of yourself.” Claire paused. “Look, if you honestly think this assignment is worth the risks, then my advice is to go with your gut.”

  Jen quickly went over the details Rick had given her. It was a two-day job, one village per day, and she’d be riding along with a relief foundation that was making supply runs to local medical clinics and food banks. Yes, both areas were overrun with gangs—maras, as the locals called them. And yes, the entire country was in a battle with the drug cartels that were running rampant in Central America. But the villages she’d been assigned weren’t heavily involved in the violence, or with the recent abductions Claire had mentioned. The people there were poor and starving—which was the main focus of the magazine piece.

  “I want to do this,” she admitted. “I think it’s important to show the rest of the world what’s happening down there. A lot of the aid foundations are staying away because of the escalating violence. This article will raise awareness. Maybe it’ll even convince some of the relief organizations to offer their help.”

  “It’s an important issue, I totally agree with that. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Claire scowled. “If you go, you need to make sure those jarheads don’t take their eyes off you.”

  “Jarheads, huh? I see Dylan has succeeded in brainwashing you.”

  “Ha, like Cash doesn’t try to do the same thing.”

  “Trust me, I was brainwashed a long time ago.” Jen’s father was a retired navy admiral and her brother was a SEAL lieutenant, which meant she’d witnessed their good-natured rivalry with the “jarheads” long before Cash entered her life.

  “What do you think Cash will say?” Claire asked.

  “Honestly, I’ll be really surprised if he’s not supportive,” she confessed.

  The man was her rock. When she’d first met Cash she’d been the fuckup of her family, working dead-end jobs because she didn’t have the confidence to pursue her dreams. Cash was the one who’d shown her that she could do anything she set her mind to, which was why she was certain he’d be okay with this assignment. He might be uneasy at first, just like Claire had been, but in the end he’d give her the same faith and support he offered on a daily basis.

  “Okay, I should head out. Cash will be home soon and I need to make preparations.”

  Claire raised her eyebrows. “Preparations?”

  “Do you really think I’m going to drop this assignment on him without some prep? I need to butter him up before I tell him about it.”

  “Butter him up? Or sex him up?” Claire teased.

  “Sex. Duh.”

  Jen quickly ran over the agenda in her head. She needed to shower. Dry her hair. Straighten it, maybe? Nah, Cash preferred it wavy. And she wanted to paint her nails that dark shade of red he liked. And he was definitely going to like the naughty purchases she’d picked up before she’d met with Claire.