She looked at him, her expression so trusting. “We’ll go with you. Sneak away tonight—”
“No!” He didn’t mean for his voice to emerge quite so loud. He glanced at Layla, saw she hadn’t stirred. Thankfully.
He took Raina’s hand and led her to the family room, where he’d built a fire. With her aunt Liza still in Sedona, the house felt like theirs.
Except, of course, that Casper went home every night. Despite the desire to stay, to wake with Raina beside him, he knew he had to wait.
He’d wanted to marry her honestly. After all they’d been through, to give them the right start.
He’d hoped to be married at Christmas. But he’d get married in a Vegas wedding chapel tomorrow if it meant they could start living happily ever after.
They have to forget about me—and you have to do the right thing. He’d hated those words, wrenched from his chest as he’d tried to make Owen see that he couldn’t let Casper down. Not again. Not now.
He closed his eyes against the fight inside him, even as Raina settled next to him on the sofa.
You can’t leave her.
Do you think I want to? That it doesn’t slay me to think of you . . . and her and . . .
He moaned, and Raina lifted her head. “Are you hurt? I should have asked—did they hurt you in prison?”
“No, Raina. Of course not. I was in the county lockup, not Sing Sing.”
She offered a wan smile and he winced. “Sorry. No. I was in a cell by myself, most of the time eating my sister’s cookies. I was fine. And you were there—I wasn’t lonely. Or scared. Or hurt.”
Okay, maybe a little scared, but nothing compared to the idea of spending the next decade down in Stillwater prison.
His gaze fell to his duffel sitting next to the door. He’d planned to be gone hours ago, to be at the airport by the time Sunday night football ended, before his family could realize he’d fled.
Except for Layla. He’d read her a book, then made her laugh, sang her a song, too easily prolonging the inevitable.
And now with Raina tucked against him . . . He turned to her, searched her face. “You are so beautiful. How am I supposed to let you go?”
“You’re not,” she said, lifting her face to his. She smelled of home, and in her kiss was the bittersweet taste of everything he’d wanted for them. He cupped his hand to her cheek, rubbing it as he deepened his kiss. Somehow—he wasn’t sure how—he found himself stretched out on the sofa, Raina nestled in his arms.
She sighed, something sweet, contented, and it went through him like fire.
“I should go.”
She gripped his shirt, panic in her eyes. “No—Casper. Please.” She shook her head. “I tried to be okay with this, but I can’t. I don’t care what you say. I won’t marry Owen. I’ll pine for you every day for the rest of my life. I’d rather live with you on the run than—”
Oh, Raina. He kissed her again, a heat igniting inside him that only she could quench. Raina. The woman who believed he could save her. He felt her surrender, clinging to him, tangling her legs with his.
Her hand went to his chest, found its way inside his shirt, smoothing along his skin.
Casper jerked back, breathing hard, his heartbeat filling his ears. “I really should go.”
“Please stay. Please—Casper, we only have this night together. Can’t we be married? . . . I mean, I’m already married to you in my heart. I want to be . . .”
He read the rest in her eyes. And it left him weak. He bent his forehead to hers. “You have no idea how much I’d like that to happen. To be your husband, right now, tonight.”
He looked up, saw the yes in her expression.
The tongues of temptation licked through him.
No. Oh no. All this time he’d thought himself better than Owen. Not the prodigal. Not the villain. Falsely accused. Even persecuted.
But if anyone knew the thoughts lurking in his heart, glazing his mind as his eyes roamed Raina’s face, her lips, as longing filled his body . . . Yeah, he was every bit the sinner he’d labeled his brother.
Maybe more because Owen had barely known Raina. But Casper had pledged to love her, to honor her, to be the man she could trust.
“I can’t—” He took a breath and extricated himself from her arms, even as she sat up.
He climbed off the sofa and strode away, breathing out as he braced his hand on the fireplace, staring into the flames.
“Please, Casper.”
Her tone could break him in half.
“Don’t leave me. I’ll wait for you—as long as it takes. Ten years—no problem. Every day, I’ll wait.”
He closed his eyes to her words.
“Unless . . . unless you don’t want me.”
He turned and knelt before her, her face caught in his hands. “Are you kidding me? I want everything about you—your smile, your laughter, your kisses—but most of all, your trust. Raina, you are my heart, and being without you will . . . I love you so much, I can’t breathe without you.” He leaned back, caught her hands, searching for words. “I had a lot of time to think while sitting in jail. I was so angry. For two days, just filled with fury. Here I was, the one who went to find Owen, and when I get back, he’s the hero, and I’m thrown in jail.”
“It’s not fair—”
“But then I went to court. I stood there listening to the prosecutor listing all the evidence against me, and I realized . . . I sounded like a criminal. Owen knew he’d made a mess of things and came home asking for forgiveness. I stood there looking at myself and said, It’s not my fault. But what if it is?”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t kill Monte Riggs and dump his body in a ravine. But maybe something I did caused it. And right now all I know is that I’m just as much in need of saving as Owen was. I’m overboard. I’m drowning, and I need help.”
“Casper.”
“I can’t leave you. But I’m so afraid to stay. And not just because of . . . of how much I want to stay the night with you. I’m afraid of staying and seeing our lives dismantled. Everything we’ve waited for, everything we dream of, gone. Yeah, I’m afraid of prison; I’ll admit it. But I’m more afraid of watching your life be ruined.”
As he spoke, something dawned in her eyes, something still tender and growing when he’d left to find Owen.
“Then we’ll have to trust God that He will save us. Like your dad said, ‘The Lord keeps you from all harm and watches over your life.’ We have to believe that, Casper.”
They did? Then, to add to his shock, she bent her forehead to his and prayed.
His Raina, the woman who, six months ago, believed God didn’t love her. The woman he’d prayed for, hoped in, believed God’s redemption for.
She prayed. For him and Layla and Owen and even Scotty. Prayed for their future and Casper’s freedom and for faith.
Lots of faith.
He opened his eyes at her amen. “Who are you?”
“Your future wife.” She touched his face with her cool, soft hand. “Or at least I hope to be someday.”
So he didn’t wait; why should he when the perfect moment was right now? “Raina, will you marry me? Not in a year or ten years, but tomorrow morning? First thing—we’ll get a marriage certificate, find a judge, get married before the hearing.”
She was in his arms, nodding. “Of course I’ll marry you.”
She knocked him over, and he fell back with her onto the carpet, cradling her fall, rolling over to trap her in his embrace.
When he kissed her, it all dropped away—the fear, the fleeing, even the murky, distant future.
Because he wasn’t the villain in the story. Not in her arms. He lifted his head. “Wow, I love you.”
“And you’re the one I’ve waited for. The only one I want,” she said.
Casper pulled a couple sofa pillows to the floor, tucking them under his head. Then he eased Raina back into his arms, where she nestled against his chest, watching the fire. He
added a blanket, tucking them in. Snug.
“So you’re sticking around?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Just for a little while.”
Casper awoke, stiff and aching, on the hard floor, Raina still curled next to him. Sunlight cascaded into the room, the fire dead in the hearth.
Knocking rattled the front door. “Casper Christiansen, are you in there?”
Raina pushed up from him. “Is there someone at the door?”
Casper sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes.
Raina got to her feet, slinging the blanket over her shoulders like a cape. “I think it’s Kyle.”
Kyle? Casper found his feet and had advanced to stand beside her when she opened the door.
“Kyle, hey, what’s—?”
“I’m here for Casper.” Kyle stood in the sunlight of the porch, in uniform. An official visit.
“What?” Casper growled, glancing at the way Kyle rested his hand on his utility belt. He didn’t exactly know what Kyle had against him but—
“We got a tip, Casper.” Kyle’s gaze landed on the packed duffel next to the door. Casper had the strangest urge to kick it out of the way. But he couldn’t really lunge at the passport lying on top. Or his wallet full of cash, thanks to a trip to the ATM.
“Tip—”
“It looks like you’re planning on jumping bail,” Kyle said.
Next to Casper, Raina stiffened.
“No—I, uh—”
Layla started to howl.
Raina had grabbed his hand. He turned to her, kept his voice soft against her stricken expression. “It’s okay, honey. Listen, I’ll go with Kyle, and we’ll straighten this out. Don’t worry.” He kissed her sweetly, wanting to linger, but Kyle stood there like a bouncer.
Kyle touched his arm as he headed out the door. “Don’t,” Casper barked, yanking his arm away.
“Keep it cool, Casper. We’re just trying to keep you from making a bad decision.”
“We?”
And that’s when he saw her. Standing by the cruiser, dressed in jeans and a baseball cap, looking like she had the day she’d arrived. His warden.
Scotty.
OWEN STARED AT THE WORDS of his fight with Scotty all night, tracing them on the ceiling as rain lashed the windows, stripped trees of leaves, left a wasteland in the north.
Because guess what? Following the rules is the only way you don’t get hurt. The only way you don’t end up falling in love with someone and walking away completely eviscerated.
Falling in love. Yeah, he’d caught those words, let them ping inside him too.
He finally got up before the sunrise and padded downstairs to brew a cup of coffee while he watched the dawn crest over the trees across the lake, turning the water to gold, then a rich, dark blue, the storm long spent.
He kept glancing up to the girls’ room, wishing he could knock on the door, wake Scotty, tell her . . .
What? That he was sorry for being the guy who defended his brother? Who would step in and do what was right, despite the fact that it would break his heart?
He set his coffee on the table, returned to the window, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.
“This is not a locker room,” Eden said behind him. “Go put a shirt on.”
He glanced over his shoulder, spied her descending the stairs, wearing her pajama pants and an oversize sweatshirt.
“Sorry.” He hadn’t even noticed, just pulled on the nearest pair of pants and headed downstairs. Now he grabbed a sweatshirt hanging on one of the kitchen chairs, recognizing it as Jace’s as he pulled the moose-size garment over his head.
Wow, Jace was a big man, and even Eden saw it, grinning as she walked over to the fridge, pulled out orange juice.
“So what’s it feel like, almost being a mom?” Owen said, sliding onto a high-top stool.
“Scary,” Eden said, pouring OJ. “But pretty exciting too. You know, I had plenty of practice running after a toddler . . .” She eyed him, winked.
“Hey, I wasn’t a toddler.”
“Belligerent, wanting your own way, moody . . .”
“Fine.” He grinned. “I’m all grown up now, trust me.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She leaned a hip against the counter, cradling her orange juice. “I heard you and Scotty fighting last night, and when she came in, she . . .” Eden made a face. “I’m not sure, but I think she might have even been crying.”
And didn’t that make him feel like a jerk?
“Do you love her, or don’t you?”
It was just like Eden to drill in, a hard point right to his heart. He stared at his coffee, testing the word, knowing the only answer. “Yeah. I love her. She’s . . . easy, you know? To talk to. And laugh with. And yeah, she can be a stickler for rules, but she doesn’t see me like . . . like everyone else does.”
Eden raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I think she does. She just loves you in spite of it. Or because of it. Or maybe she just loves you, period.” She took a sip of her juice. “I like her. A lot. It’s too bad her dad is selling his boat. Seems to me she’d make a great captain.”
“She’s an amazing captain. Works harder than anyone and manages to keep everyone safe too.”
Eden finished off her juice. “I think you should tell her that.”
“I will. Do you know where she is?”
“I heard her get up this morning and assumed she was coming downstairs. Are you sure she’s not outside by the dock?”
Owen’s head snapped up. “Is her duffel still here?”
Eden’s face slacked. “I . . . uh, I dunno.”
Owen had jumped off his stool, was already halfway up the stairs.
He stopped himself, however, at the bedroom door. Knocked. “Grace, are you in there?”
“Right behind you.”
He turned and spied Grace in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub, braiding Yulia’s hair.
Owen didn’t wait, just barged into the bedroom. Scanned it for Scotty’s black duffel bag.
Maybe she left it in the laundry room?
He took the stairs two at a time, headed to the basement. Found the laundry room clean, quiet, empty.
Upstairs, the phone rang. He shut off the light, his chest constricting. No, she couldn’t have . . .
But what did he expect? He wanted to wince as his words flooded back. You can’t trust anything I say, anything I do. Because I’m trouble. And you can’t trust trouble.
He’d all but packed her bag for her, shoved her out of the house. Shoot—why did his mouth seem to have its own impulsive mind?
When he returned to the kitchen, Eden stood at the counter, talking on the phone, one hand braced on the granite island, her expression horrified. “Just calm down, Casper. It’ll be okay.”
Oh no. Owen stalked across the room, practically grabbed the phone from her. “Where are you?” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“Owen? Yeah, maybe you should ask your girlfriend that question. Because she ambushed me this morning. Fetched Kyle and showed up on Raina’s doorstep, accusing me of jumping bail. Which I haven’t . . . yet.”
Owen turned away from Eden, wincing. “Sorry, Casper. I didn’t think she’d actually—”
“You told her? Nice, real nice, Owen.”
“Hey, listen, you didn’t come home, and your closet was empty—what did you expect me to say?”
“I expected you to cover for me!”
“It didn’t take a genius to figure out what you were up to. She put it together. She’s a cop. And she’s only trying to do what’s best for you.”
He could barely believe the words issuing from his mouth. But—“If you jump bail, you’re all but admitting guilt. That’s going to destroy your defense—and any hope you have of returning to Raina. So just stay calm.”
“Calm? Scotty is making a statement right now, apparently testifying to the fact that she heard me say I was planning on leaving—”
“You were!”
“But then I wasn’t. I decided last night . . . I’m not leaving.”
“You spent the night at Raina’s?”
“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m just saying, you didn’t come home. What was Scotty supposed to think?”
“She’s supposed to mind her own business!”
“She was trying to protect you!” Owen hadn’t realized how he’d raised his voice, how it had drawn Jace and Max down the stairs and his parents from their room, his mother now wrapping a robe around herself. They came to huddle around the island as he paced the floor of the kitchen. “She’s part of the family—she wouldn’t betray you.”
Casper’s voice dropped to a growl. “No, Owen, she’s not part of the family. She’s just another one of your flings. Let’s be honest here. Scotty isn’t sticking around; she told me on the plane that she was going to get you home and leave. Wake up, buddy—”
“Things have changed.” But Casper’s words hit like a blow to his gut.
“I doubt that because she looks like she’s leaving. I saw the rental; I saw her bag in the car—she’s not coming back to you.”
In that moment, Owen really wanted to hate Casper. To tell him that he was every bit as deserving of a happy ending as Casper was, and that just because he’d made mistakes didn’t mean he couldn’t be redeemed. Hadn’t been redeemed.
“Sit tight, Casper—I’ll be right there.”
“You’ve caused enough trouble, thanks. Just leave it.”
“No, I won’t leave it. This isn’t over. Have a little faith—”
“In who? You? I trusted you, and you ran to Scotty.”
“She guessed! She is a detective, after all.”
Casper’s voice dropped. “Listen, I’m trying to understand; I am. And I am trying to have faith. But it’s over, Owen. If the judge decides to hold me for trial today, I’m going to take the plea. Maybe this is the way it’s supposed to be. I’m tired of running and trying so hard to fix things. If God doesn’t fix it, then it’s over.”
“There’s still time—”
“Not unless a miracle shows up and confesses to the murder of Monte Riggs. I gotta go. Kyle’s fixed me up a nice little suite over here.”
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