Tough Luck (A-List Security 1)

Duh. I hadn’t thought of the data storage issue, but I wasn’t going to admit that.

“I don’t do random hookups or sexting,” I said instead, wanting to prove to him I wasn’t entirely stupid.

“Good for you.” He sounded like Duncan, patting me on the head for a good choice he didn’t expect to stick.

“I don’t. Hookups tend to talk like I’m a trading card of some kind. A piece of celebrity swag to brag over. I’m done with all that.”

“You deserve better.” Cash’s eyes were gentle when he glanced over, and his voice was kinder now, more personal. “Don’t settle for celebrity chasers and users.”

He made that sound easy too. When was I supposed to meet someone normal without some secret agenda for me to discover too late? Yeah, I was stuck with the single life, but I nodded anyway.

“Duncan made a joke once that SEALs are kind of like celebrities in San Diego. People want to say they banged one.”

That earned a laugh from him, deep and rich. “Yup. We warn the rookies. Easy to get laid, easier to get trapped.”

I didn’t much care for the sound of Cash getting laid so easily, wracking up forgettable conquests, so I changed the subject. “Did Duncan save your life or something? Or is it just a general loyalty to your SEAL friends thing?”

“Both.” He turned onto a highway I wasn’t familiar with, taking us east. “Duncan was my lieutenant. He’s younger, but if he says jump, his chiefs damn well better make sure everyone says how high. He was better than some, and yeah, he had my back more than a few times. That matters. But SEAL teams are small. The personnel I worked with? I owe each of them more than I can say, and we take care of each other.”

“That’s why Duncan started this business, isn’t it?” I’d been curious about why Duncan was so hell-bent on getting into security, but watching him thwart dear old Dad had been awesome. “Our dad hates it. He wants Duncan to work for him, manage the family money or make movies. I’m not sure exactly what, just that Dad’s not happy. Not that he usually is anyway.”

“Duncan’s got a big independent streak,” Cash said knowingly. He probably did know Duncan better than me as the ten-year age gap and different mothers who hated each other had limited our time together. Cash had spent real time with Duncan, something evident in the easy way he talked about him. “He’s got to make his own way.”

“Yeah.” Duncan was probably far better at that than me, but Cash had undoubtedly heard enough of my whining about how hard adulting was. “We don’t really talk.”

“You and Duncan or you and your dad?”

“Both, but Duncan’s easier to talk to.” Looking out the window, I watched the scenery shift to acres of small suburban homes and apartment complexes. “He checks up on me. Like you said, he cares about people. Unlike our father.”

My mother had been Dad’s second marriage, a B-list actress with big aspirations, and their very public divorce right before she put me into acting was a sore spot even hours of therapy hadn’t been able to mend.

Cash navigated into a working-class area with lots of strip malls and shopping centers with budget-store names. He was right. The chances of paparazzi were way lower here.

“Can’t say as I know what you went through.” He spared me a sympathetic glance as we waited at a light. “But I do know a thing or two about piece-of-shit dads. Guess money doesn’t always equal parenting skills.”

“Word. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to have kids. Guess it’s no shocker that I turned out a hot mess.”

“Hey, now.” Cash’s tone was chiding as we turned into the lot for a big home improvement place. “Quit talking yourself down. Plenty of folks wouldn’t try to get their acts together. I think it’s pretty damn remarkable that neither you nor Duncan turned out more spoiled.”

“You don’t think I’m spoiled?” This pleased me for reasons I didn’t fully understand.

“Not as much as I’d expected anyway.” He parked in the back of the lot.

I frowned. “That’s not saying much.”

“Sure it is.” Cash laughed like I had no clue how low his expectations had been. Great. At least I wouldn’t have to work that hard to surpass them. I sighed as he continued, “Come on. Put your disguise on. Let’s go.”

I still had his ball cap. It was a small, silly thing, but it made me happy like an episode we did for Geek Chorus where the cheerleader got the football star’s jacket. I stuck the hat low on my head and added a pair of sunglasses Cash produced from the dash.

“Let’s go shopping.” However, a short while later, I regretted my enthusiasm. The store was huge with airport runway long aisles filled with mechanical and electrical items I didn’t know the names for. So many choices too. I had no clue how Cash kept finding stuff to add to the cart, but he did.