by Jane Anthony
“I only just found you. I’m not ready to let you go.”
“A little distance isn’t going to change anything. We’ll make it work.”
It’s more than a little distance. Texas and New Jersey aren’t even in the same time zone. She might as well be going to Mars. Truthfully, I have no idea what this means for Casey and me. All I know is that my feelings for her aren’t geographical. This isn’t a smash and dash situation. I can’t give her up that easily.
“You seem so sure.” Her light touch caresses my face. “How do I know you aren’t going to find someone else?”
My fingers gently close around her wrist. “I waited twenty-seven years for you.”
With a swift tug, I pull her closer, take her in my arms, and press my lips against hers. I allow myself to get lost in her for just a moment, soaking in the taste of her mouth and her flower fragrance before forcing myself away. My dick is already twitching in my jeans from this tiny amount of contact. We’ll never get to the airport if I don’t stop now.
Casey steals the hat from my head as I ease onto the highway and pulls the brim low over her eyes. Blond waves fall out from underneath, flying around in the wind and rushing through the open window at her side. Iron Maiden rocks the speakers. Bruce Dickinson cries aloud with all his might, screaming over the nasty sounds of heavy riffs. The heels of my palms press against the steering wheel, while my thumbs tap out the beat. It takes my mind off the fact that we’re saying goodbye for an undetermined length of time. Usually, I’m fine with her constant country caterwauling—I’ve even started to like it—but today, I need something louder. Casey’s about to be schooled in Metal 101.
“Your music is so angry.” She pushes up the hat’s bill with one finger; her eyes are as bright as the sky as she looks my way.
“Some of it, but this one is different.” I turn the volume up so she can hear it better. “You need to listen beyond the distortion and wailing drum beats. The words hold more power than the music behind it.”
Lyrics don’t usually matter to me, but every so often, a song will come along that speaks directly to my soul. This is one of them. A song about a man in his dying hour, full of regrets and lamenting about the things he hasn’t achieved yet.
The maniacal music in the background is the only sound as we drive to the airport. The weight we both carry on our hearts is a heavy burden to hold. Yesterday, I had everything I ever wanted nestled in the palm of my hand, but today, it’s all falling to hell. It’s my shit luck coming back to bite me in the ass. My gift from the universe for being an asshole. I’m given the tiniest taste of something real, only to have it jerked from my grasp. It’s not fair.
Even in the wee hours of the morning, the airport bustles with life. Commuters, travelers, and airport workers move about with the rolling sounds of luggage following close behind them. Casey stands at the entrance of the airport looking sad and afraid. Two feelings I’m on board with, even though I refuse to let it show. I’ve always been the strong one, and now is no different.
“Call me as soon as you get in so I know you got there safely.”
Still wearing my hat, she takes the carry-on from my hand before setting it on the ground and wrapping her arms around my neck. “I will. I promise.”
Her body is warm, her skin sweet. I don’t want to let her go, but I pull away just enough to look in her hypnotic eyes one more time, touch her face, and feel her lips. It’s not the last time I’ll ever see her, but I feel like it is.
“Hey, AJ.” She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, letting the corners of her mouth turn up, teasing me with those damn dimples I love so much. “Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I’ll return it when I get back.”
“Damn, baby. You stole my heart and my lines.”
A giggle floats from her mouth, embedding itself in my chest and threatening to cave it in. Her laugh is still one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard, coming in a close second to her sexy twang moaning my name. I drop my lips to hers, savoring the taste and the softness of her mouth against mine. “We’ll see each other soon.”
I watch her walk away until she disappears from sight. I feel like my heart’s been crushed to dust. I should have known better than to open myself up to someone like this. Everyone I love just leaves me eventually.
Jillian’s already at the shop when I arrive, which means Jameson isn’t far behind. She’s always the first one on the scene, opening the office and making coffee. It’s a routine she’s so used to, I bet she can do it in her sleep by now. Zakk’s playpen is perched in the corner under a Budweiser clock with a naked woman on it. The phrase Future Headbanger sits over the flaming guitar on his miniature Pantera tee. The Morello family is a classy bunch.
“Estranged” emanates quietly from the huge desk in the center. Normally, I love this song, but I'm in no mood for it today. "Turn that shit off."
"It's not GNR's best album, but I wouldn't call it shit," Jillian argues but complies anyway, before walking to the percolator to pour me a coffee. I’ve told her a hundred times that I’m capable of making it myself, but she insists. “What’s wrong with you?”
I take the coffee from her hand and blow on the hot liquid before taking a tiny test sip. Her hard gaze bores a hole through me. Jill knows me better than I know myself. We’ve spent so much time together that we don’t even need words to communicate. The problem is, she likes to talk about shit, and I don’t. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Whatever, dude. You look like you’re ready to Hulk out and kill us all.”
The door buzzes overhead as Jameson walks in. Like clockwork, Jill hands him a cup of coffee, and he drops a peck on her lips. Their open affection is a hot poker jabbing me in the gut. I’ve seen this every day for the past six years, but for some reason, I can’t handle it right now. My jealous fist closes on the Styrofoam cup in my hand, cracking it. Scorching black coffee runs all over my hand and coveralls. "Shit!" The cup makes a hollow sound as it bounces off the floor and lands in the dark brown puddle at my feet.
I'm a mess, both literally and figuratively. Watching Casey walk away was so much harder than I anticipated. I assured her that we could make the long distance work, but I don't want that. I want her here so I can kiss her whenever the mood strikes.
"Yeah, sure, you're fine," Jill quips, grabbing the mop from the bathroom as I try to dry myself with a nearby red rag.
"Sorry," I grumble walking through the shop door. I have to put some space between Jill and me. It's too damn easy to take my shit out on her. Her love for me is unconditional, and I don't want to take that for granted. I've been that guy already, and he sucks. I just have to get through the day, and then I can bang my aggression out on my kit at home.
In my empty house.
Alone.
"Everything cool with you and Casey, dude?" Jameson's voice cuts through my solitary moment of self-loathing. I really need some new people in my life. Preferably, ones who can't read me like an open book. "I know that look. Hell, I've had that look. What's going on?"
I love the guy, but my brother-in-law is such a monumental pussy. He was always a little on the soft side, but after Jill and Zakk got their hands on him, he might as well be a woman himself.
"Casey went back to Texas." Just saying it adds to the pressure sitting on my chest.
Jameson runs his hand through his sandy hair, pushing it behind his ear. "Just out of the blue?"
"She has some family shit to take care of. Don’t know when or if she'll be back."
I feel my face get hot and turn toward the tool bench. Jameson's been my best friend since we were kids. Whenever he's had a problem, I was the one he turned to. I'm usually the fixer, but now, those roles are reversed. He has everything figured out, and I'm the one floundering around, living my life in limbo. It’s embarrassing, and I don't want him to see me like this.
"Why aren't you with her?"
The corner of my mouth curls up with a "what the hell" expression. Lover boy's lost his mind. "
I got work to do, bro."
Jameson grabs my bicep as I try to move past him. "You love her?"
Well, isn't that the million-dollar question? Having never been in love before, I have no idea what the answer is. I definitely like her. A lot. When I think about the possibility of never seeing Casey again, my chest burns, and I can't catch my breath. Even now, I can feel the distance between us as if something’s missing. If that’s not love, I’m not sure what is. "I guess?"
Jameson closes his eyes, shaking his head with a snort. "If you love her, you should be with her. Nothing is more important."
He releases his grip and steps under the Nissan on the lift. Our uncomfortable conversation is over, but instead of feeling relief, I'm more worked up than I was before. It's so easy for him to say. He came into his relationship with nothing to lose. No family, no livelihood. He blew in with the wind and never left. His choices were easy. I have responsibilities. I can't chase a girl I've only known a few weeks across the country. No matter how bad it hurts to let her go.
Chapter Eighteen
CASEY
I’m overdosing on nostalgia as I stop in front of my childhood home for the first time in seven years. Standing on the worn wooden planks of the wraparound porch, I can almost hear Gran humming through the window and smell the fresh cornbread baking. I should have come back sooner.
I slide my old key into the lock; shocked it still works, I’m greeted by Gran’s wall of Casey as I push open the door. A school photo for every year hangs in a circle, showing my various stages of life. The center spot is empty. Gran was saving it for my wedding photo. In every one, my hair is neat, and my clothes are pressed—a perfect, smiling girl with child-like dimples and a plain face—but the wild child hidden inside shows through in my devilish blue eyes. I put Gran through so much heartache.
The sunshine yellow kitchen calls to me from the foyer. This was always my favorite room in the house. When the school bus dropped me at the gate, I’d run up the trail and burst through the door. Gran would be waiting for me, snack in hand, ready to hear about my day. Playing at her feet on this old linoleum floor is one of my earliest memories.
Emotion chokes me as I run my hands over the ancient wallpaper. Once white with bold sunflowers, it's faded to a dingy bone color, but it’s still lovely nonetheless. I feel her. Smell her. Hear her voice and see her delicate hands rolling out dough. If she were here right now, she'd look at me with tear-filled eyes and wrap her slender arms around me. Welcome home, Casey Jane.
But it's too late. I don't have the right to cry. I made my bed, and now, I have to lie in it.
A few deep breaths later, I find myself on the porch out back. Gran's rocking chair sits motionless, facing the pasture where the horses run. When the day was over, and the work finished, this is where she'd be. Watching her beloved horses.
"Can I help you?" A deep, slow drawl rumbles from my right far out by the stables. I turn toward the direction of the voice, and my legs turn to jelly. The Earth spins too fast. I lose my balance and fall onto the warm, white wood.
When my eyes open again, I'm cradled in strong arms and staring into the warmest brown eyes I've ever seen. "You all right, baby girl? You gave this ol’ boy a fright the way you hit the deck like that."
Dazed and confused, I blink my lashes, trying to remember. The recollection hit hard and fast, goring me like an angry bull. The horses, the barn ... Austin. It was all too much.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just haven't eaten all day, is all." I struggle to my feet, breaking loose from his strong grasp.
"Well then, let's get some food in ya." Austin pushes himself to his feet, smacking his big hands against his well-worn jeans. A little too well worn. They hang on his hips, dirty and tattered, defining every tendon in his muscular thighs. “C'mon. I'll get washed up."
He pushes his way into the house, and I watch him disappear inside. Austin was twenty-three when I left, all lean muscle, wiry and thin. Now, at thirty, he's filled out. He's brawny and wide, tan and tall. With a voice that apparently still brings me to my knees. Literally.
I join him in the kitchen, dropping down at the large oak table, and watch him move about. His brown hair is much shorter than it used to be, and his face, once so young and boyish, is chiseled and mature.
"I was wonderin’ when you'd come home." He sets a plate down and sits across from me at the table. After all these years, he still remembers I eat pickles on a turkey sub.
"I'm sure you heard. I'm the new owner of Grainger Ranch." My insides somersault at the thought. I own a ranch. I'm not prepared for this.
"Yup. Your ma was madder than a hornet in a beer can when she found out. She came out here cussin’ and yellin’. I told her, ‘I didn't do it. I just work here.’” A small grin curls his lips, and his eyes crinkle in the corners. "But I'm glad you're home."
When his warm hand settles over mine, my eyes drop to his bare ring finger. I let it remain there for just a moment before pulling away. Austin is a friend now, nothing more, yet the look on his face when I slip my hand from his slices a wound in my chest.
"Thanks for the sandwich." I take a bite, although I'm not all that hungry anymore. I just need a distraction from the heavy moment. “Are you still livin’ here?”
His handsome face is tired and sad. “Where else am I gonna go, Casey Jane? This ranch has been my life for more than ten years. Just because Gran's gone ...” Silence fills the room, and pangs of guilt stab me in the gut. Gran was a mother to us both.
“Gran always said you were a blessin’ sent from heaven. She’d appreciate all you’ve done.”
He smiles and nods, his warm brown eyes searching my face. Quiet falls between us again. I want him to yell at me. Tell me I broke his heart; say I’m not welcome, that he can’t stand the sight of me. Anything other than this sullen lack of speech. But Austin was never one with words. He’s a man of action, who proved himself to me in ways other than talk. “What’d he do to you, Casey?”
“What you mean?”
“You ain’t the same. You talk different; you look different. Where’s the girl I knew? Surely, she’s still in there.”
The sandwich is a rock in my stomach. “I’m still her.” My voice comes out meek and strained. Off and on, I’d practiced what I’d say to Austin should we ever be face to face again, but no amount of mental notes could have prepared me for the way it feels to stare into the face of the man I’ve wronged and still see love in his eyes.
“Nah. My sweet girl wouldn’t have stayed away so long.”
The wooden legs of the chair squeak on the linoleum as Austin rises and walks to the screen door. Staring out into the yard, he’s quiet for a moment before adding, “Maybe while you’re here, I can help you can find her.”
AJ: Rise and shine, cowgirl.
The text message makes me smile. It’s five a.m., which means it’s six o’clock in New Jersey. AJ's been my wake-up call every morning, even though he doesn’t have to be at work until nine. It’s my favorite part of the day, but fondling my phone isn't quite the same as waking up in his arms. He's the first person I hear when I wake up, and the last voice I hear before bed. The hours in the middle I spend going over the books, cleaning out the house, and working down at the stables. I have aches in places I didn’t know could ache. My years in the city have made me soft.
Typing in a quick "good morning" response, I hit send and place the phone back down where it was. Sleeping in my old room is still strange, even though it's changed a bit since I’ve been gone. Gran ditched the old blue bed linens and added a bold floral pattern to the bed and windows. It’s sunnier in here than I remember, but it could just be my mind playing tricks on me.
The smell of coffee wafts up from the kitchen. My conversations with Austin have been mostly about business, but every now and again, I see the craving swirling in his eyes. I feel it radiating from him, the same way I did all those years ago before he finally gave in and made me his.
Austin never rushed me. He
was patient and compassionate. We’d already been dating a year, but he would have gladly waited a lifetime for me.
Once I knew Gran was asleep, I snuck down to his room off the foyer. I watched his shadow pass through the light peeking out from under the door before letting myself in. He looked at me with heated desire, his eyes leaving mine for only the short moment it took me to close the door and turn the latch, locking us in together.
“You need somethin’, baby girl?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to be brave, but my whole body quivered when I dropped my robe. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes raked over the satin and lace nightie I wore. Up until then, we’d only kissed, but I wanted more. I was seventeen. Still a girl, but head over heels in love with a man I was anxious to please.
“You put this on for me?”
I took a deep breath and nodded before taking a step further. His hand skimmed over my hip and slipped underneath the sheer fabric. “Is this for me, too?” A sharp breath hit my lungs when his fingertip ran across the obvious wet spot in my matching panties.
“If you want it.”
My heart thundered, and my pulse pounded. It was awkward at first. I laid on the bed with damp palms and damp panties, while his gentle kisses covered my body, and his hands roamed to places nobody had ever touched before. The anticipation was killing me. He took his time exploring me, murmuring sweet words in my ear and making sure I really wanted this. It was exhilarating and scary, and I wanted nothing more than for him to hurry up and get started.
“I love you, baby girl. I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispered as his body invaded mine, slow and deep. Those two adjectives always come to mind when describing Austin. They are fitting in every possible way. His moves, his voice, the way he loves, the way he fucks. Slowly, deeply, with so much power and conviction that it took me over from day one.