Annabelle beamed. “I already knew,” she announced smugly. “Cash called me yesterday to light candles.”
Savannah wrinkled her forehead. “Huh?”
“He took Jen out for a fancy dinner,” Annabelle explained. “And he put candles all over the bedroom and called me to light them before they got back. It was so frickin’ romantic.” She grinned at Jen. “Oh, and Cash made me promise not to tell Ryan what I was doing down there, so I stole a carton of eggs from your fridge to give me an excuse for going downstairs.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “So that’s where the eggs went.”
“Why the fancy dinner?” Savannah asked curiously. “What were you celebrating?”
This time Jane answered. “Our little Jenny has an interview with my old magazine. Am I the only one who didn’t know Jen is a kickass photographer?”
“I had no idea,” Annabelle said, looking insulted. “You holding out on us?”
She blushed. “I always figured it was just a hobby.” She glanced at Jane. “I can’t believe your photo editor stumbled on my blog like that.”
The redhead got a funny look on her face. “Yeah, that’s a stroke of luck, huh?”
The flippant response raised a red flag, and Jen studied the other woman with suspicion. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Jane’s expression epitomized innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
A frown puckered her brows. “Rick Martin found my work on the blog, right?”
“Of course.”
“Jane.”
The redhead released a heavy breath. “Fine. No.”
“No what?”
“Rick didn’t discover your work on the blog, hon. Your work found him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m the one who gave Rick your photographs.”
Surprise jolted through her. “What? How’s that possible? How did you even get—” Jen’s breath hitched. “Cash.”
Jane scrupulously studied the label of the tequila bottle.
“Cash gave you my photographs, didn’t he?” Jen demanded.
The other woman lifted her head and offered a sheepish shrug. “He brought over a memory stick with your stuff on it the day of Sadie’s party.”
“He did?” She had no idea whether to be angry at Cash for invading her privacy or thrilled that he had.
“Don’t be mad at him,” Jane said quickly. “He had good intentions, hon. He said you weren’t planning on submitting work to any of the bigger magazines, but he thought you were too talented not to. He made me promise not to tell you.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t want you to think he was interfering in your career. And if TW was interested, he wanted you to think you’d done it on your own. But I think trying to keep it a secret was silly,” Jane said with a shrug. “He went to great lengths to make this opportunity happen for you, and I think you deserve to know that.”
Jen’s heart constricted. As annoying it was that Cash had copied her pictures without her consent, his intentions had been anything but malicious. Hell, he clearly knew her better than she’d thought. She’d been second-guessing herself with that portfolio for days—obviously he’d decided to speed up the process.
And now, thanks to Cash, she might land a job with a magazine she’d never have dreamed of showing her work to out of fear she’d be laughed out of the prestigious building.
But Cash had believed she could do it. He’d believed in her from day one.
“I might be in the minority here, but I’m pretty sure Hot Stuff is in love with you,” Savannah said with a grin. “Like big-time in love.”
The other women nodded fervently.
“Oh yeah,” Annabelle agreed. “A man doesn’t take on the task of personally getting a girl her dream job if he doesn’t love her.”
Jen felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her. She wasn’t surprised to hear everyone’s assessment of Cash’s feelings—she already suspected how he felt. No, what startled her was the multitude of emotions swirling in her chest. She’d been trying so hard to keep an emotional distance, but who was she kidding? Her emotions had entered the picture a long time ago.
She was in love with Cash.
Her heart felt both lighter and heavier as she absorbed the truth. She loved Cash. She loved his gruff voice and toe-curling kisses and rough hands. She loved his strength and unceasing support and the way he laughed. She loved that he didn’t mind the way she stuck Post-its all over his apartment, how he grumbled every time she forgot to hang up her towel in the bathroom, his willingness to cook every time she burned something in the kitchen.
From the moment they’d met, Cash had accepted her for who she was. Supported her. Encouraged her. Introduced her to passion she’d never known.
And she knew now, without a shred of doubt, that even one day with Cash McCoy would be worth however many months without him.
“Holy shit,” she mumbled.
From her cross-legged perch on the floor, Annabelle chuckled. “You love him too.”
Jen shook her head to clear the fog from it. “Yeah, I think I do.” Amazement trickled through her. “How did that happen?”
“Love has a way of sneaking up on you.” Smiling, Savannah swiped a tortilla chip from the bowl on the coffee table and popped it in her mouth. “Same thing happened to me with Matt.”
Savannah wrinkled her forehead. “Huh?”
“He took Jen out for a fancy dinner,” Annabelle explained. “And he put candles all over the bedroom and called me to light them before they got back. It was so frickin’ romantic.” She grinned at Jen. “Oh, and Cash made me promise not to tell Ryan what I was doing down there, so I stole a carton of eggs from your fridge to give me an excuse for going downstairs.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “So that’s where the eggs went.”
“Why the fancy dinner?” Savannah asked curiously. “What were you celebrating?”
This time Jane answered. “Our little Jenny has an interview with my old magazine. Am I the only one who didn’t know Jen is a kickass photographer?”
“I had no idea,” Annabelle said, looking insulted. “You holding out on us?”
She blushed. “I always figured it was just a hobby.” She glanced at Jane. “I can’t believe your photo editor stumbled on my blog like that.”
The redhead got a funny look on her face. “Yeah, that’s a stroke of luck, huh?”
The flippant response raised a red flag, and Jen studied the other woman with suspicion. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Jane’s expression epitomized innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”
A frown puckered her brows. “Rick Martin found my work on the blog, right?”
“Of course.”
“Jane.”
The redhead released a heavy breath. “Fine. No.”
“No what?”
“Rick didn’t discover your work on the blog, hon. Your work found him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m the one who gave Rick your photographs.”
Surprise jolted through her. “What? How’s that possible? How did you even get—” Jen’s breath hitched. “Cash.”
Jane scrupulously studied the label of the tequila bottle.
“Cash gave you my photographs, didn’t he?” Jen demanded.
The other woman lifted her head and offered a sheepish shrug. “He brought over a memory stick with your stuff on it the day of Sadie’s party.”
“He did?” She had no idea whether to be angry at Cash for invading her privacy or thrilled that he had.
“Don’t be mad at him,” Jane said quickly. “He had good intentions, hon. He said you weren’t planning on submitting work to any of the bigger magazines, but he thought you were too talented not to. He made me promise not to tell you.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t want you to think he was interfering in your career. And if TW was interested, he wanted you to think you’d done it on your own. But I think trying to keep it a secret was silly,” Jane said with a shrug. “He went to great lengths to make this opportunity happen for you, and I think you deserve to know that.”
Jen’s heart constricted. As annoying it was that Cash had copied her pictures without her consent, his intentions had been anything but malicious. Hell, he clearly knew her better than she’d thought. She’d been second-guessing herself with that portfolio for days—obviously he’d decided to speed up the process.
And now, thanks to Cash, she might land a job with a magazine she’d never have dreamed of showing her work to out of fear she’d be laughed out of the prestigious building.
But Cash had believed she could do it. He’d believed in her from day one.
“I might be in the minority here, but I’m pretty sure Hot Stuff is in love with you,” Savannah said with a grin. “Like big-time in love.”
The other women nodded fervently.
“Oh yeah,” Annabelle agreed. “A man doesn’t take on the task of personally getting a girl her dream job if he doesn’t love her.”
Jen felt like someone had knocked the wind out of her. She wasn’t surprised to hear everyone’s assessment of Cash’s feelings—she already suspected how he felt. No, what startled her was the multitude of emotions swirling in her chest. She’d been trying so hard to keep an emotional distance, but who was she kidding? Her emotions had entered the picture a long time ago.
She was in love with Cash.
Her heart felt both lighter and heavier as she absorbed the truth. She loved Cash. She loved his gruff voice and toe-curling kisses and rough hands. She loved his strength and unceasing support and the way he laughed. She loved that he didn’t mind the way she stuck Post-its all over his apartment, how he grumbled every time she forgot to hang up her towel in the bathroom, his willingness to cook every time she burned something in the kitchen.
From the moment they’d met, Cash had accepted her for who she was. Supported her. Encouraged her. Introduced her to passion she’d never known.
And she knew now, without a shred of doubt, that even one day with Cash McCoy would be worth however many months without him.
“Holy shit,” she mumbled.
From her cross-legged perch on the floor, Annabelle chuckled. “You love him too.”
Jen shook her head to clear the fog from it. “Yeah, I think I do.” Amazement trickled through her. “How did that happen?”
“Love has a way of sneaking up on you.” Smiling, Savannah swiped a tortilla chip from the bowl on the coffee table and popped it in her mouth. “Same thing happened to me with Matt.”
