It was three-quarters of an hour when she finally emerged from the library. He could see her relieved smile from across the road and he checked the traffic before dashing across to meet her at the bottom of the steps.
“I didn’t throw up on anyone or fart inappropriately,” she said as she came to a halt in front of him, “so I figure I mostly got away with it.”
He pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head. “Well done. You’re awesome.”
Her arms came around him and she squeezed him fiercely, her fingers digging into his back. “Couldn’t have done it without you,” she said, her voice muffled by his T-shirt.
He let his hand rest on the nape of her neck, wishing he could say even half of the things going through his head. But it was too soon, and her day had been dramatic enough already.
And if she was leaving town in the near future, him spilling his guts would only make things worse, not better, for both of them.
“What do you want to do now? Grab something to eat? Get drunk? Go somewhere private and fuck like bunnies?” he suggested.
“Those are all pretty good options. Can I say D, all of the above?” she said, lifting her head to laugh up at him.
“Eva. I was hoping you’d still be out here.”
They both turned to see Andie and Heath McGregor coming down the library stairs, both of them beaming.
“Hi. Did I forget something?” Eva asked, slipping free from his arms, her face professionally neutral.
Andie looked to Heath, who gestured that she had the floor.
“You blew us away in there,” Andie said. “Your drawings, the care and thought you put into your proposal… But the thing that made it a no-brainer for us was your concept of creating an art trail in the region. We need more reasons for people to discover our great little town, and we think you can be a key part of making that happen. So I’m over the moon to tell you that the Marietta Chamber of Commerce would officially like to offer you the commission to create a mural on the Clarke grain elevator.”
Eva blinked, her eyes wide. Then a slow smile curved her mouth. She looked at Casey, reaching out to grab one of his hands, her grip tight with excitement. He squeezed back, aware of the burn of emotion at the back of his eyes as he registered her success.
She’d done it. All her hard work had paid off. She’d be staying in town, painting her dream in vivid colors, one hundred feet tall.
“Thank you,” Eva said. “I won’t let you down, I swear. This mural is going to be amazing.”
“We don’t doubt it for a second,” Heath said. “Congratulations, Eva.”
He offered her his hand, and Eva shook it, then Andie enveloped her in a hug, and Casey reached into his back pocket to pull out a handkerchief.
“Thanks,” Eva said ruefully as he passed it over so she could dab her eyes dry. “This is such awesome news.”
Andie checked her watch. “You know, it’s pretty close to the end of the day. I feel like we should go to the Graff and buy something with bubbles to celebrate. What do you say?”
Eva looked to him for his response and he smiled. “Of course we need to celebrate,” he said.
“You don’t need to get back to the ranch? I don’t want to keep you from your work,” she said.
“The mower will still be there tomorrow. Let’s go party,” he said.
“We’ll meet you over there,” Heath said. “My truck’s gonna get towed if I leave it near the Courthouse.”
Casey slipped his arm around Eva’s shoulders as they walked back to his truck.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
Her face was glowing when she lifted it to his. “Like this is a dream. Please don’t wake me if it is.”
“It’s not a dream, and you earned this, babe. You worked your ass off for this.”
They stopped on the sidewalk beside his truck and she slipped out from beneath his arm.
“You realize this means I’m going to be around for at least another seven or eight weeks? Think you can handle that?”
“What do you think?”
She searched his face, then she smiled and reached for his hand.
“I think we need to go celebrate.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me.”
*
Eva was still feeling a little seedy the following afternoon when she walked the short distance from the trailer to the house.
Last night had been huge. She’d lost track of how many rounds of drinks she’d bought, and she only had cloudy memories of Casey putting her to bed in the small hours, but she knew that it had been good to know that all her hard work and persistence had paid off.
She’d woken to an empty bed and a headache, Casey having slipped out hours earlier to start work for the day. After lying there wallowing in her triumph for a good half hour, she’d made a feeble attempt to think past the cotton wool in her brain and had eventually given herself permission to have the day off.
She’d been running on adrenaline, hope, and fear for weeks now. She could afford to have a rest day.
She used the time to tidy up the trailer and do her laundry, puttering around in a happy daze. Somehow the day had slipped through her fingers, and she’d been surprised to see it was nearly four when Casey dropped to remind her he had band practice tonight.
He’d promised he’d be back in time for dinner, and she kissed him goodbye and waited until the sound of his truck had well and truly faded before heading for the house.
Now she paused on the porch, torn between whether to enter via the kitchen or the front door. All the Carmodys had urged her to make herself at home and take advantage of the kitchen, larger bathroom, and laundry room in the main house whenever she felt the need, but there had been a certain…distance in Sierra’s attitude toward her lately that made Eva inclined to use the front door today.
It wasn’t obvious, and it definitely wasn’t malicious, but it was there, and Eva didn’t want to step on any toes. Listening to her gut, she knocked on the weather-beaten door and waited.
It didn’t take long for it to swing open, revealing Sierra’s surprised face.
“Hi. You don’t have to knock, you idiot,” the other woman said, gesturing for Eva to come inside.
“I didn’t want to assume anything,” Eva said lightly.
“Don’t be silly. If you wanted to do more laundry, I’m just about finished with the machine,” Sierra said, heading back into the kitchen.
Eva trailed after her, admiring the other woman’s dark wavy hair and long legs. Most of the time Eva didn’t have a problem being short, but there was no denying that Sierra had an awesome set of pins that looked nothing short of sensational in well-worn denim.
“Actually, I want to pick your brain, if that’s okay. I want to take Casey out for dinner tonight to thank him for being so amazing through this whole crazy process, and I was wondering if you could steer me in the right direction.”
“Oh. Okay,” Sierra said, her eyebrows meeting in a frown.
“Hopefully it’ll only take a moment or two, if you’re not too busy,” Eva said brightly.
“Sure. Of course. If you want recommendations for places in town, you can’t go wrong with Rocco’s. Or if you want somewhere fancier, there’s always the Graff. I haven’t been there for a while, but I’ve heard good things.”
“I wanted to do something a bit more personal,” Eva said. “I was thinking of picking up some things from town and doing a sort of picnic-style dinner. So I was hoping for some pointers on what Casey’s all-time favorite treats are, and if there’s a good picnic spot around here somewhere where I could take him?”
“Sounds very romantic,” Sierra said, her frown deepening. Her gaze darted around the kitchen, and she rubbed her palms down the sides of her jeans. “Um. Let me think. Casey loves meatloaf, and he’d crawl over broken glass for pecan pie. Flo could hook you up with both of those at the diner. His favorite drink is Dalton’s cider—you can get that in town, too.”
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She still hadn’t made real eye contact and Eva’s heart sank.
It definitely hadn’t been her imagination—there was something going on with Sierra.
“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Eva said. “I don’t want to step on any toes or make you uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” Sierra said. Then she laughed, the sound odd and tinny and profoundly uneasy.
They were both silent for a moment, then Sierra sighed and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears.
“Okay. That was a little uncomfortable,” she admitted.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you aren’t exactly thrilled about me and Casey being together…?” Eva said.
“No. That’s not it,” Sierra said quickly. “Well, not exactly. I really like you, Eva. I think you’re awesome. And I can see how much Casey likes you, and normally I would be over the moon that he’s got such good taste.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming,” Eva said.
“That’s because you’re going to go back to LA in a few weeks. I don’t know you that well, I have no idea what your life is like, but I do know Casey, and I know his feelings run deep. Like I said to you when we were driving in to see the Shots that night, he doesn’t do casual.”
“You think I’m using him? Is that what you’re trying to say?” Eva asked, feeling a little offended at being cast as the easy-come, easy-go vixen who was going to break Casey’s heart.
“Honestly? I have no idea. I hope not.” Sierra sighed again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that if this is just a few weeks of fun for you, part of the whole rural Montana experience, don’t make it worse by taking Casey on picnics and feeding him his favorite foods and generally being as romantic as all get-out. Don’t make him think this is something it isn’t.”
“I wouldn’t do that to him,” Eva said, stung. “I wouldn’t play with his feelings like that. You think I don’t see him? You think I don’t understand how beautiful he is, inside and out? Yes, this started out as a fling. Hell, it was only ever meant to be a one-night stand, but it quickly turned into something else and I am just as deeply invested as Casey is. Very much so.”
She was out of breath when she finished, and her eyes were hot, and she looked away, blinking rapidly.
“Shit, Eva, I’m sorry,” Sierra said, her face puckered with concern. “I wasn’t trying to offend you, I swear. I’m just worried. I never should have said anything.”
Eva nodded, still not trusting herself to speak, and Sierra’s mouth flattened into an unhappy line.
“I really didn’t mean to upset you. Can I give you a hug, please?” she asked.
Eva nodded again, and Sierra wrapped her arms around her.
“Like I said to Casey, you’re probably the coolest person I know and I’m really glad you two are on the same page,” Sierra said. “That’s all I was really worried about—that Casey was getting too invested in something he shouldn’t.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not going to get messy,” Eva said, her voice muffled by the other woman’s shoulder. “I have no idea what’s going to happen when I have to go back to LA.”
“Well, no one really knows anything in life, do they?” Sierra said, letting her arms fall to her sides and stepping back from their embrace. “Anything could happen to anyone. That’s no reason not to be with someone, not if it feels right.”
“This is the last thing I expected when I came to Marietta,” Eva admitted. “The absolute last thing. I swear to you I hadn’t even thought about sex for months until I saw your brother.”
“Okay, we may have just reached the part of the conversation where I need to tap out before my gag reflex kicks in,” Sierra said, and Eva laughed.
“I wasn’t about to get graphic, don’t worry.”
“Good.” Sierra considered her for a beat. “Are we cool? Or have I just become the hideously protective sister you’re now going to go out of your way to avoid?”
“You’re allowed to be protective. I have a sister, and I’d do anything for her. And Syd would totally throat punch Dane if she could. In fact, he should probably worry about accidentally running into her in LA, because I honestly don’t know what she might do if she had the chance to physically hurt him.”
Sierra snort-laughed. “God, I almost hope it happens.”
“Me, too, a little bit. But only if there are no witnesses.”
Sierra smiled, then glanced at the clock. “If you’re planning on doing this picnic thing tonight, you’d better get your skates on. Casey will be home from band practice in another hour or so.”
“Good point.”
“Come on,” Sierra said, leaning across to grab her car keys. “I’ll drive you in to town so you can hit Flo up for Casey’s favorites, and I’ll show you where there’s an awesome picnic spot on the way.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want to steal your afternoon.”
“I was just doing laundry. This is much more fun. Come on,” Sierra said, heading for the door.
Eva half suspected Sierra’s generosity sprang from the impulse to make up for her earlier censure, but Eva had meant it when she’d said she understood where the other woman was coming from. It was actually pretty nice that Sierra loved her brother enough to want to guard him from hurt, and it wasn’t as though she’d barged into the trailer and imposed her point of view on Eva.
In fact, Eva suspected if she hadn’t pushed the issue, Sierra would have gone on being friendly and lovely, albeit just a degree or two cooler than previously.
So even though she didn’t really need an escort, she followed Sierra out into the yard and climbed into her truck and did her bit to put their moment of tension behind them.
Chapter Thirteen
Casey was the first to arrive at band practice, letting himself into Danny’s garage with the spare key before checking his phone. There were no messages, so he figured the others were just running late.
Figuring he might as well get set up, he got out his guitar and plugged it into his amp, then settled on a stool. He’d finessed ‘Been Too Long’ since their last practice, and he ran through the new chorus and bridge one more time to satisfy himself he’d finally got it right. It sounded good, and he preferred the way the melody built in increments now, slowly expanding until it hit the chorus.
If the guys were willing, it was ready to become part of their lineup.
He checked the time on his phone—the guys were a full ten minutes late now—then warmed up with a hodge-podge of his favorite parts from of an old Oasis song before switching to a Beatles track. He thought about Eva as he played, remembered how tipsy she’d gotten last night, buoyed by winning the commission and lots of champagne. She’d danced in her seat and laughed too loudly and generally been the life of the party, surprise surprise.
Afterward, Jed had driven them home in Casey’s truck. Eva had rested her head on his shoulder the whole way, her hand splayed on his chest over his heart.
He’d put her to bed when they got home, holding her steady while she pulled off her pants before making her brush her teeth. She’d snuggled in to his side when he joined her in bed, kissing his shoulder and chest, her hands roaming hungrily. Minutes later she’d fallen fast asleep, drained by the high emotion of the day, her hand still trapped down the front of his boxer briefs.
He smiled at the memory, amused all over again, thinking about how much he loved being with her, how she just had to look at him or touch his leg or chest or arm and he was gone.
“Whoa. What the hell is that?”
Casey’s hands stilled on the guitar as he glanced over his shoulder to find Rory and Danny standing there, both of them looking like someone had just goosed them.
“Sorry?” he said.
“That song you were just playing. What was it? Please tell me it’s one of yours,” Rory said, hands pressed together as though in prayer.
Which was when Casey registered he’d been pla
ying the song he’d written about Eva, his fingers automatically picking out the notes while he was thinking about her.
“It’s not for the band,” he said automatically.
“Why not?” Danny asked.
Casey frowned. “Because. It’s not ready. And it’s not for public consumption.”
Rory made a rude noise. “What? Are you kidding me? No way can you keep that song under wraps. Play some more for us.”
Casey shook his head. “There’s no point.”
“Play it, Carmody,” Danny insisted.
Rolling his eyes, Casey picked out the opening few bars, aware of Danny and Rory nodding along.
“Give me two seconds,” Danny said, slipping behind his kit.
He pulled off the dust cover, then the deep, low sound of the bass drum sounded as he picked up the rhythm of the song. Casey could feel it through the soles of his boots and he couldn’t stop himself from starting the song again from the top, loving the way the bass underscored the earthy raunch of the song. He was aware of movement out of the corner of the eye, and then Rory was playing, filling out the sound with even more bass. Despite his reservations, he started getting excited.
“What the hell is that?”
Wyatt stood in the doorway, looking like someone had just hit him over the back of the head with a two by four.
“Casey’s new song.”
“My man,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “That’s epic. You are on fire with the songwriting at the moment. Give me a second to get set up.”
“It’s not for the band,” Casey repeated as Wyatt set up his keyboard stand with the efficiency of long practice.
“Why the hell not?” Wyatt asked.
“He still hasn’t come up with a good reason,” Danny said.
“It’s personal,” Casey said.
“Not when it’s that good, it ain’t,” Wyatt said.
He settled his keyboard on the stand and fed the power line into the back of the unit.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
“There’s no point,” Casey said.
Danny and Rory simply started playing, ignoring him, and Wyatt listened for a few bars to get his ear in before chiming in. Casey shook his head, but they were right, it sounded good, the keyboard adding yet another dimension to the song, and he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.
The Rebel and the Cowboy (The Carmody Brothers Book 2) Page 17