Buckhorn Brothers: Casey Part 11

"Do you have sweet tea?"

Nodding, she yelled, "And an iced tea."

A dark-haired man in a hair net poked his face into an opening visible behind the bar that led into the kitchen. "Be ready in a sec."

"Thanks." Without being invited, Ceily sat down in the booth opposite Damon. "So Casey's already hooked up with her, huh?" Dimples showed in her cheeks when she grinned. "Doesn't surprise me much. From what I remember, she always did like him. And he's just like his uncles, meaning he's not one to waste time."

"How...rea.s.suring."

Ceily laughed, then crossed her arms on the table-top and leaned toward him. It was a toss-up what fascinated him more a her mouth or her cleavage. "You with her, or just friends?"

"Friends." She wasn't wearing any lipstick, but her naked mouth looked very appealing. Her bottom lip was plump, her upper lip well defined. "If it was more, I wouldn't be flirting with you."

That s.e.xy mouth tilted up. "So you are flirting, huh?"

"Of course." He stared into her eyes without smiling. "And you're flirting back."

She shrugged. "Around here, that might mean something a and then again, it might mean nothing."

"Around here?"

"We're all real sociable and quick to tease."

"I see. So which is it this time?"

She pondered her reply before answering. "I reckon it means I wouldn't mind showing you around the area, if you're interested."

Uncertainty made her offer casual, yet Damon noted her antic.i.p.ation, the way she held herself hopeful. Oh yes, the trip had become quite intriguing.

"My interest has already been established." His body hummed with that interest as he began considering what the night might bring. The irony of it amused him. Emma might not like it, but then there was no reason she had to know right off.

He reached across the table and took her hand again. "So tell me, Ceily. What time do you get off work, and how late do you want to stay out?"

CASEY WATCHED EMMA grow increasingly subdued the farther they got from town. The ride to the hospital took her back along the way she'd come in, to the outskirts of the city proper. The twenty-minute trip had been mostly silent, yet not uncomfortable. From the drive-through, they'd picked up two bottles of orange juice and breakfast sandwiches to eat along the way. Emma had also downed another cup of coffee.

After gathering the sandwich wrappers and empty bottles together, Emma had spent the remainder of the ride looking around with a mixture of awe, recollection and melancholy. She'd missed Buckhorn, that much was plain.

So why had she waited so long to return?

Casey didn't mind her silence as she reacquainted herself with the area. But the closer they got to the hospital, the more she retreated until he could feel her agitation. Was she worried about seeing her father again?

Old habits were indeed hard to break, and Casey found himself wis.h.i.+ng he could s.h.i.+eld her from the unknown. Would her father be happy to see her again? Or would he treat her with the same callous disregard he'd shown so long ago?

For the rest of his life, Casey knew he'd remember the look on her bruised, tear-streaked face the night her father had jerked her forward, presenting her as a problem, ridding himself of her.

It still infuriated him, so how must it make her feel to face Dell again?

The roads here were smooth, open, with no need to s.h.i.+ft from fifth gear. Though the temperature had reached eighty already, with high humidity, Emma had been all for skipping the air-conditioning in favor of leaving the convertible top down. Casey glanced toward her, watching her hair dance behind her, seeing the concentrated, determined expression on her face.

He tightened his hands on the steering wheel, fighting the urge to reach for her. "Hey."

She started, then glanced at him. "What?"

"You okay?"

"Sure, I'm fine." She clutched at her purse in her lap, giving away her unease. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"I don't know. Everything. Nothing." She turned toward him, folding one leg onto the seat. She had to hold her hair out of her face with her hand. "Buckhorn hasn't changed at all."

Her position exposed more of her thigh a something Casey made immediate note of. As a teenager, she'd kept a golden tan. Now she looked fair, with only a faint kiss from the sun. He had to clear his throat. "Not much, no."

"Everything seems exactly the same, maybe aged a little more. But still...the same."

"That bothers you?"

She leaned back in her seat and stared up at the sky. "No." She spoke so low her voice almost got carried away on the wind. Casey strained to hear her. "It's just that I've changed so much, and yet I still feel like I don't belong here."

A vague panic took Casey by surprise. "This is your home." He sounded far too gruff, almost angry. "Of course you belong."

Silence hung between them, pressing down on him, until she swiveled her head toward him. "If you have anything you need to do today, you can just drop me at the hospital."

It bugged the h.e.l.l out of him how she kept trying to shove him away. "I'll wait for you."

"Dad's probably not up to a long visit, but it still might be an hour."

"I'll wait."

She stared at him, so Casey gave her a smile to counter his insistent tone and then, because he had to touch her, he opened his hand over the gears.h.i.+ft in invitation. She hesitated only a moment before reaching across and lacing her fingers in his. Like old times.

Now, that felt right a Emma reaching for him, accepting him. The touch of her hand to his, palm to palm, fingers intertwined, filled him with a sense of well-being.

Two minutes later, he parked in the crowded visitors' section of the hospital lot. Emma, now utterly silent, flipped down her visor to quickly comb her hair and reapply lip gloss. He'd seen the feminine routine performed by numerous women. But this was Emma, and she fascinated him.

He went around to her side of the car and held her door open. "You look beautiful, Emma."

She sent him a look of tolerance. "I'll settle for pa.s.sable, thank you."

"Very pa.s.sable, then." Casey took her arm as they crossed the scorching lot. Damp heat lifted off the pavement in waves. "Do you remember the last time we were here together?"

Nodding, she said, "With your Uncle Jordan and his wife. But that was before they'd gotten married."

"The night they met, actually. Georgia's mother, Ruth, was sick, and Jordan had brought them, along with Georgia's two kids, to the hospital." While driving to the hospital to lend a helping hand, Casey had found Emma walking on the side of the road. As if the picture had been painted on his brain, he recalled exactly how she'd looked that night in ultrashort shorts, a hot-pink halter, and her skin dewy from the humidity as she'd sashayed down the roadway. All alone.

He'd been worried about her, as usual, and had insisted on giving her a ride. She'd climbed into his car, then made him sweat even more with wanting her.

Shaking his head, Casey wondered why he hadn't taken what she'd offered. If he had, maybe he wouldn't feel as he did now. And maybe he wouldn't have felt this way for most of his adult life.

Putting himself back on track, he continued with the family discussion. "Ruth still has some problems with her lungs, but now she's hooked up with Misty and Honey's dad, and he pampers her. She's doing pretty good."

"Do you mean your grandfather? Do you work for him now?"

"Step-grandfather officially, but yeah, I've been working with him since I finished college. I'm the executive vice president of sales and marketing."

"Wow." Emma sounded genuinely impressed. "That sounds like an important position."

Self-conscious about the rapid and consistent promotions, Casey grumbled, "My grandfather has shoved me right up the ladder. He takes every opportunity to give me a bigger office, a better parking spot, more perks. It's his goal that I'll eventually run the company for him."

"What exactly is his company?"

"Electronics, computer hardware. You know, very high-tech, state-of-the-art stuff for businesses. Boring stuff." He laughed at himself. "Very boring."

"I see." Her look was filled with comprehension in a way exclusive to Emma. She understood him, which made long explanations unnecessary. "So you don't like your job, or is it your grandfather you don't like?"

He avoided giving her a direct answer by saying, "I like him fine. He's loosened up a lot, especially since he and Ruth married."

That disclosure diverted her. "Wow, everyone is getting married."

Casey stared ahead, strangely annoyed. "Nope, not everyone."

Emma did a double take, probably trying to judge his mood. When she saw his sour expression, she went a little quiet. "Like everyone else, Casey, you'll eventually find the right woman and swear love everlasting."

She didn't sound overly thrilled with that prospect, which pretty much minored his own feelings on the matter. Marriage? Just the thought of it left him tight and uncertain in a way he refused to accept. "We'll see."

Emma bit her lip, feeling the new tension just as he did. In an obvious effort to lighten the mood, she said, "Georgia had two really cute little kids, right?"

"Yeah, but they're not so little anymore. Lisa is fifteen and a real heartbreaker, though she doesn't know it, or else doesn't care." He glanced down at Emma, saw her pensive frown, and regretted adding to her uneasiness. She had her hands full with the coming confrontation. "Lisa's more into her studies than boys, and she's so smart she scares me."

Emma relaxed enough to grin at that. "As I recall, nothing scares you a especially a female."

That was far from the truth, but Casey just shook his head. "Adam's thirteen, a h.e.l.luva football player and real interested in becoming a vet like Jordan. He's even got the soothing voice down pat. They're great kids."

She gave a wistful sigh. "You've got a lot of nieces and nephews now, don't you?"

He shrugged. To Emma, it probably seemed like a lot. She had only her mother and father, and had been estranged from them for a long time. "Jordan has those two; Morgan has Amber, now eleven, and Garrett who's nine. And Gabe has the three daughters." Casey grinned. "By the way, they not only look like Gabe, but they all take after him, too."

"Natural-born flirts, huh?"

"Yep. And it makes him crazy. Gabe's about the most doting father you'll ever meet, and he shakes whenever he talks about his girls growing old enough to date."

Emma snorted. "He's probably remembering his own unrestrained youth."

"Gabe was rather unrestrained, wasn't he? Not that any of the women complained."

"'Course not."

Casey admired the way her eyes glowed, her cheeks dimpled when she was amused. Hearing Emma laugh was a treat. "I have a little brother too, you know. Shohn, who's almost ten now. He's a hyper little pug, never still, and he knows no fear." Knowing he bragged and not caring, Casey added, "He learned to water-ski when he was only five. Now he's like a d.a.m.n pro out there."

"Uh-huh. And who taught him to ski?"

Casey pushed the gla.s.s doors open and ushered her inside. "Me."

Air-conditioning rolled over them as they stepped into the hospital and headed for the elevator. Casey transferred his hand to the small of Emma's back, and just that simple touch stirred him. Her waist dipped in, taut and graceful, then flared out to her hips. Standing next to her emphasized the differences in their sizes. He told himself that was why he felt protective. Then. Now.

Always.

Naturally, he cared about her. They'd been friends for a long time, and that, combined with the s.e.xual chemistry, heightened his awareness of her. It wasn't anything more complicated than that.

But even he had to admit that talking with Emma came pretty easy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shared stories about his family. When he was with a woman, he remained polite, attentive, but everything felt very...surface. There wasn't room for personal stuff. Yet with Emma, he'd just run down his whole d.a.m.n lineage a and enjoyed it too much.

He was disturbed with his own realizations on that, when he heard someone say his name. He looked down the hallway and saw Ms. Potter, the librarian, being pushed in a wheelchair by a nurse, followed by her daughter, Ann. Casey drew Emma to a halt. "Just a second, okay?"

He went to Ms. Potter and bent to kiss her cheek, which warmed her with a blush. "Getting out today, huh?"

"Finally."

"You were only here two days," the nurse teased, then added, "And you were a wonderful patient."

Ms. Potter fussed with the elaborate bouquet of spring flowers in her lap. "Even so, these will look much better on my desk than on the windowsill here."

Casey gave her a mock frown. "Your desk? Now don't tell me you're rus.h.i.+ng right back to work."

"Monday morning, and it's none too soon. I can just imagine what a mess my books are in. No one ever puts them away properly."

Ann stepped up to the side of the wheelchair. Her brown eyes twinkled and her dark hair fell in a soft wave to her shoulders when she nodded down at her mother. "The flowers are gorgeous, Casey. Thanks for bringing them to her."

"My pleasure." He saw Ann look beyond him to Emma, so he drew her forward. "Ann, Ms. Potter, do you remember Emma Clark?"

Ms. Potter, always sharp as a tack, said, "I do. It was a rare thing for you to come to the library, young lady."

Embarra.s.sed, Emma stammered, "I a I've never been much of a reader."

"You only need to find the right books for you. Come and see me next week and we'll get you set up."

Emma blushed. "Yes, ma'am."

Casey did his best not to laugh. Ms. Potter had a way of putting everyone on the spot, but always with good intentions. She genuinely cared about people and it showed.

Ann stared hard at Emma before her eyes widened with recognition. "Now I remember. You went to school with me, didn't you?"

"A long time ago, yes. I think we were in the same English cla.s.s."

"That's right. Didn't you move away before your senior year?"

"Yes." To avoid going into details, Emma grinned down at Ms. Potter. "That's a doozy of a cast you have on your leg. And very art deco, too."

Ms. Potter reached out and patted Casey's hand. "You can blame this rascal right here. I was all set to keep it snowy white, as is appropriate for a librarian and a widow my age. But Casey showed up with colored markers." She pointed to the awkward rendition of a flower vine twining around her ankle in bright colors of red and blue and yellow. "Before I could find something to smack him with, Casey had flowers drawn all over me. After that, everyone else had to take a turn."