Who Loves Ya, Baby?

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Who Loves Ya, Baby? Page 13

by Gemma Bruce


  “You’re cute, but come down before you get shot.”

  “I’m not going to get shot. But I did find some motorcycle tracks.”

  “Julie, get down.”

  “Oh, all right.”

  He reached up to help her, but she twisted out of his reach. Her foot slipped on a patch of loose dirt. Her weight pitched to the side and her feet slid in opposite directions. Her arms flailed, she flew off the boulder and landed spread-eagle against Cas, while Smitty barked furiously from above their heads.

  Cas caught her and staggered backwards. “Are you out to get me?”

  “Sorry,” said Julie, trying to pull away. “I slipped.”

  “You sure did.” Cas’s arms tightened around her.

  Julie felt a rush and gave herself a mental shake. There were so many reasons why she shouldn’t get involved with Cas. She couldn’t afford to let him into her confidence, not to mention her heart. Which, with the way things were going, was becoming a dangerous possibility.

  Though standing this close, feeling his heart beating beneath his jacket, she was a little fuzzy on the details of why this was such a bad idea.

  Oh right. The riddle, their past history, her recent history. Got it. She attempted to pull away again.

  He held her tight against his chest.

  Julie felt herself giving in to his warmth, which all things considered, was a lot more enticing than Smitty’s. She pushed at his chest before she lost her power to think. “We’d better go.”

  “What’s the matter?” asked Cas, holding onto her.

  “You just said we shouldn’t be out in the woods.”

  “Okay, let’s go inside. You’re shivering. We haven’t tried out the Jacuzzi yet.”

  “Cas, we can’t keep doing this.”

  Cas looked around. “You’re right. Let’s go inside.”

  “No. I mean, this. Look. It was great to see you. We got to do all those things we never got to do, you know, when we were kids.”

  “I can think of a few more we haven’t tried.”

  She bet she could think of even more. “And I have to leave soon. And I have to find, deal, take care of stuff, and then your mother’s going to call—”

  “Nope, turned off my phone.”

  “Or Reynolds will spy on us.”

  “We’ll close the curtains.”

  “No.”

  Cas eased her away and looked at her. “Are you dumping me?”

  Julie’s mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about? It’s not like we’re going steady. We just had a couple of one-night stands for old times sakes. But that was all it was. I have things to do. I can’t ... I can’t ...”

  “You can’t leave until we’ve played pirates and princess.” Cas smiled, a pirate’s leer straight from their childhood.

  “Cas. Let go.”

  “No.”

  She huffed out air and stomped on his foot.

  His arms jerked open and she headed for the house.

  “What’s happened?” he asked, limping after her. “Has my family been harassing you?”

  Julie shook her head and kept walking.

  “Then who?”

  “Nobody. It just won’t work.” We’ll find the treasure. You’ll walk out and I’ll get screwed again.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Crazy maybe, but not stupid.”

  “Julie, wait.”

  He grabbed her arm. She wrenched free and broke into a run, not bothering to follow the trail, but slashing through the underbrush until she reached the yard. She sprinted down the hill and flew up the back steps and into the kitchen. She locked the door and leaned against it for good measure.

  There, she thought. Safe. But not happy.

  She was breathing hard, far too hard for a sprint down the hill. She slid down until she was sitting on the floor. Slowly she began to untie her boots. No reason to muck up the linoleum even if her life was falling apart.

  “If you’re going to shut someone out, you shouldn’t leave your front door open.”

  Julie’s head jerked up. Cas stood in the door to the hallway, shoeless, with Smitty leaning against his leg.

  “Shit,” said Julie.

  Cas strode toward her and pulled her to her feet. Then he sat down on a kitchen chair and dragged Julie onto his lap.

  “You probably shouldn’t sit on hard chairs,” she said, sniffing.

  “You’re the nuttiest girl I have ever known. Why not?”

  “Because,” she sniffed again, trying to get herself under control, “of your condition.”

  “What condition?”

  “You know, your ... the ... hemorrhoids.”

  Cas took her by the shoulders and looked her in the face. “Are you sure you aren’t getting me mixed up with one of your other boyfriends?”

  Julie blinked. Boyfriend? He thought of himself as her boyfriend? Stick to the essentials, dummy. “No-o-o.”

  Cas shook his head. “Honey, I don’t have that particular condition,” he said, fighting a grin.

  “But that first night, when you sat down, and ...” She stammered to a halt.

  “Oh,” said Cas. “I remember. That condition.” He pulled her closer until his erection rested against her thigh. “This is the only condition I was suffering from—that night or now.”

  Julie lowered her forehead to his chest. “I am such an idiot. Why didn’t you say so?”

  He lifted her chin with his finger. “Honey, I was broadcasting it loud and clear. Now do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “No. I mean, nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.” Except for the hard-on nudging her thigh. She really needed to get out of his lap. Away from all that burning desire.

  Unfortunately, half of that desire was hers.

  He stroked her hair, then took a fistful and pulled her close. “Tell me.” He kissed her, briefly, gently. It was sexy. And way too tempting.

  “Tell me.” His breath was warm and inviting against her lips. He kissed her again. This time he lingered and she opened her mouth to him in spite of her intention not to. His tongue slid across her teeth and sought out her tongue as his fingers drifted down the front of Wes’s coat, undoing buttons as they passed.

  Julie was about to pull away, when his hand slipped inside and his fingertips touched her breast. She shuddered.

  Cas’s tongue drove into her mouth and Julie came to her senses. She wrenched her mouth from his and stood up.

  “I can’t.”

  Cas dropped his head to his hands. “Jesus.”

  Julie took a step back as though distance could keep her resolute. He looked so confused that she longed to throw her arms around him and let him do anything he wanted to do with her. But that could be a disaster.

  Maybe, once she solved the riddle ... Damn it, Wes. Look what you’ve done.

  And suddenly she was weak with frustration and heartache. She missed Wes, even though he was a pain in the butt. She’d give anything to hear him say, “Who loves you, kid?” To touch his hand when she reached for her lollipop.

  She yanked a chair out and sat down before her knees gave way. She should never have come back. “Oh God, what am I supposed to do?”

  Cas looked over his fingers at her. “You’re supposed to love me.”

  His eyes widened and the color drained out of his face, while his words filled the air and Julie stared back at him. He opened his mouth, shut it again. Looked at Julie. Then he stood up, walked past her and out of the kitchen without another word.

  She heard the car roar to life, then drive away. Smitty whined and lay his head in her lap.

  “He didn’t say what I think he said, did he?”

  Smitty sneezed and nuzzled her hand.

  The parking lot of the Roadhouse was virtually empty, which was about usual for a Monday night. And for the first time in weeks, Cas was sorry to see that there were no motorcycles parked out front. Because tonight he really felt like busting a few heads.

  He pulle
d an old Yale sweatshirt over his head. It was encrusted with dried paint and frayed at the cuffs, and just putting it on made him feel more himself again. Cas, who built boats, not Cas, the pretend sheriff. Cas who was in control of his life and didn’t blurt out things he wasn’t ready to say and Julie wasn’t ready to hear.

  He strode across the gravel and pushed through the door. Terrence was sitting at the bar, talking to Tilda. A couple of tables were occupied, but the only sound in the bar was the snooker balls whacking around the table. He sat down at the bar and Tilda poured out a Foster’s and placed it in front of him.

  “And a Wild Turkey. Double.”

  Tilda pursed her lips. Tonight her hair was more purple than red and he wondered if she and Edith and Mel all got their hair done at the same place in Henryville. Color by Crayola.

  She slid the whiskey toward him and followed it with her person, leaning over the bar and frowning at him. “I know you don’t have a dog. So it didn’t die.”

  Cas gritted his teeth. “Why can’t women ever just say what they mean?”

  “Then they wouldn’t be women,” said Terrence.

  Tilda leaned over the bar and tugged his beard. “That’s right, smoochums. And don’t you forget it.”

  “Ugh,” said Cas and knocked back his drink. His breath fled, fire blew out of his ears, and his eyes teared up.

  Tilda took the glass out of his hand and set it on the bar. “So. Did that make you feel better?”

  “No,” Cas wheezed. “Maybe the next one.”

  “You’re gonna feel worse before you feel better if you keep this up.” She got out a menu and handed it to him. “Got corned beef and cabbage tonight.”

  “It’s fucking October.”

  “She’s starting early this year,” said Terrence. “That way, by the time March comes around, she’ll be a pro.” His teeth flashed from behind his beard and Tilda planted a kiss on his mouth.

  Cas drank more beer and tried to ignore them.

  “On second thought ...” Tilda quickly poured out another Wild Turkey and placed it in front of Cas. “Alice Poole alert at five o’clock.”

  Cas sighed and prepared for the assault. That was all he needed to put paid to this day.

  Alice slipped up beside him. “Buy me a drink, big guy?” she asked as her long pointed nails began to walk up his shirt front.

  “Uh.” He flashed Tilda an SOS.

  Tilda grabbed the roving hand. “I lo-o-ove this color.” She pulled Alice’s hand closer and peered at her nails. “Who does your manicure? I was using Nails Galore, but I just wasn’t happy with how the polish was lasting.” She chatted on, never letting go of Alice’s hand while Cas and Terrence watched; Cas in amazement and Terrence with pride.

  Alice finally retrieved her hand, lifted her hip to the stool next to Cas and smiled at him. She was long and tall, mostly skinny legs in black stretch pants and a sequined top that stretched off one shoulder.

  “Have a beer,” said Tilda, shoving a mug into Alice’s hand. “On the house.”

  Alice took a sip while she continued to smile at Cas over the rim. He felt a foot slide up his calf. His eyes widened.

  “Alice,” said Tilda. “Aren’t you with Joe? I think he’s looking for you.” She waved a dishcloth in the air. “Hey, Joe. She’s over here.”

  “Oops, got to go.” Alice slid off the stool. “Don’t forget to save me a dance Friday night.” She winked at Cas and sidled away with her beer.

  “Thanks, Tilda,” said Cas.

  “If you’d just pick one and get married, the rest would leave you alone.”

  If I just left town and never came back, I’d be better off, he thought, but he said, “I don’t think I’m the marrying type.”

  “Ha. I remember a time back in high school.”

  “Yeah, well, water under the bridge.”

  “That’s a good one,” said Tilda. “Have you looked under the bridge lately? I swear the river’s gone down another foot since summer.”

  “It’s the new lake up north,” said Terrence. “Now if they had decided to build it here, we’d all be rich instead of them.”

  Tilda grabbed his beard, pulled him across the bar, and kissed him. “And your front yard would be flooded and you’d have to swim to work everyday.”

  And I could sail away, thought Cas.

  Chapter 12

  “You know, Ernestine,” said Julie the next morning asas she sat on the steps watching Smitty give Bill and Hillary rides around the yard. “If anybody else returned home after fifteen years, they’d at least get a casserole. I come back and not one person has driven up that driveway, not even the mailman. Except Cas. But he doesn’t count.”

  And she was really trying not to think about him and his parting words. How could he expect her to love him after not seeing him for over a decade? Especially with that stupid riddle standing between them. She probably hadn’t heard him correctly. And besides, he couldn’t mean it. So why did she keep thinking about it?

  “It’s not that I don’t enjoy talking to you and Smitty, but I don’t want to turn into one of those potty old ladies—not that I’m going to stay or anything, but you know the type. And if I don’t figure out what to do with my life and quick, I’m going to be up the creek. I was sure Wes had left me some money, but maybe he didn’t have any. I mean, the house isn’t in great shape, but a coat of paint, and a few repairs ...

  “It’s not that I’m greedy. I’d really rather have Wes alive.” And she knew that if she could trade her treasure for Wes, she’d do it with no regrets.

  Julie spent the next few days feeding chickens, separating Wes’s belongings into keep piles and Goodwill piles, then putting them back again because she couldn’t bring herself to part with any of his possessions. And she kept looking for another riddle.

  By Wednesday, she was going stir crazy. She hadn’t found the next clue, she hadn’t heard from Cass. And she knew she couldn’t put off dealing with the sale of Wes’s house any longer. She dressed to go to Henryville, then thought, Tomorrow, tomorrow’s soon enough. And went for lunch at the hotel instead.

  Christine greeted her with a bubbling smile and led her over to a table by the window. “I haven’t seen you in town lately,” she said as she placed the menu in front of Julie. “I was afraid you’d left.”

  Julie’s eyebrows rose.

  “Where is that girl?”

  Mel shuffled through the swinging doors to the kitchen, grabbed a pad and pencil off the silverware table and sauntered over to Julie and Christine. She sank into one hip, licked the tip of her pencil and looked at Julie with a bored expression.

  Julie saw Christine’s look of consternation, and quickly said, “I’ll have the roast pork and a house salad, vinaigrette on the side.” Mel melted away without writing anything down.

  Christine shook her head. “I’m sorry about that. She’s going through a rough stage. She was pretty close to Wes, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t,” said Julie, suddenly wondering about the young Goth.

  “Yeah, but don’t let it get out. My parents would ground her for life. Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just ...”

  “The feud,” Julie finished for her.

  Christine didn’t answer, just looked broodingly at the tablecloth. “I really am sorry. Would you like something to drink?”

  “Thanks, do you still have some of that cabernet I had the other day?”

  “Sure. I’ll get it.”

  “Why don’t you join me,” Julie said on a whim.

  Christine looked quickly around the restaurant. Julie was the only patron. “Thanks. I will. The hunters won’t be back for a couple of hours yet.”

  She returned a few minutes later carrying a tray with two wineglasses, one with cabernet and the other with something sparkling. Seltzer?

  “It’s always quiet during the week,” said Christine, taking a sip of her seltzer. “Most people around here only dine out on the weekends. We’re hoping to pick up the overflow from the
new lake resort up the road. They have skiing and fishing and water skiing and there’s a trucked-in beach, but they don’t have any really good restaurants. Mainly burgers and stuff.”

  “These things take time,” said Julie, trying to be optimistic.

  “So how are things going with you?”

  “Uh ... fine.”

  “I saw Cas’s black eye.” Christine bit her lip, then a smile crept across her face.

  “That wasn’t me,” said Julie. “I gave him the bruised jaw.”

  Christine shrieked with laughter and pretty soon, Julie joined her.

  “I didn’t mean to do it. There was this doofus hitting on me and I swung and Cas pulled him off the bar stool and ...” Julie paused, some of the humor dying away. “The rest is history.”

  “Oh, I hope not. Anyway it serves him right. Sir Galahad. Always coming to the rescue.” Christine bit her lip. “I didn’t mean that. I’m grateful to him for being here. Between the hotel and Mel and my parents ...” She shrugged.

  “I can imagine,” said Julie. “Why is he here?”

  Christine frowned at her. “Wes asked him to come. Didn’t you know?”

  Julie shook her head and sipped some wine.

  “I know he’ll leave again.” She looked at Julie over her seltzer glass. “If something doesn’t change his mind.”

  “Well, maybe something will.” Then seeing the spark of interest in Christine’s eyes, she quickly added, “Though I won’t be around to know. I’m leaving soon, myself.”

  “Oh, but what about the house?” Christine blushed. “It’s none of my business.”

  “I’m going into Henryville tomorrow to put it on the market.” Julie moved back for Mel to put her salad plate on the table. The plate tipped and a few shreds of lettuce fell onto the tablecloth.

  Christine sighed and closed her eyes.

  Mel picked up the lettuce pieces and shoved them in her uniform pocket. “What about the chickens?”

  Christine and Julie both looked up in surprise. Mel stood there, slouched in one hip and scowling. But the question had definitely come from her.

 

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