My Mistake (Stories of Serendipity #7)

by Conley, Anne

  He’d finally caught her.

  And then his phone rang.

  Unwilling to leave paradise now that he’d just gotten here, he tried to ignore it. As he continued making love to Casey’s mouth, something niggled at the back of Brent’s mind. He finally backed off with a groan, arching his back to get into his pocket for his phone, pressing his erection painfully against his zipper.

  As he answered, he looked over at Casey and saw her staring at the bulge in his jeans, wide-eyed.

  “Hello?”

  “Brent, it’s Sherriff Anderson. We’ve got those three mares ready for you. We’ll be dropping them off in an hour. You home?”

  “No sir, but I will be. Thanks.”

  “No. Thank you.”

  He hung up the phone with a frustrated grumble, as Casey sat up straighter next to him. When he stood, she stood as well. Brent was silently cursing and thanking the Sheriff for interrupting him before things had gotten out of hand.

  “You have to go?” Disappointment welled in her eyes, and Brent stroked her cheek with his knuckle. The silkiness was not lost on him. A lot of the girls he’d gone to high school with wore lined faces now, the result of tanning beds and hard parties. Not Casey.

  “Yeah, I do. The Sheriff’s office has been warning me they were going to impound some horses off some property in the north part of the county. Looks like they finally did it. I’ve got to get home to take them and fill out all the paperwork.” His knuckle traced her jaw, then down her neck, before opening up and grabbing behind her and pulling her towards him. He was rewarded with her arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him tight against her body. One last time.

  “I’m really glad you stopped by, Brent.” She ground her hips against his subsiding erection, which sprang back to life as he stifled another groan.

  “Yeah, me too.” He lowered his face to hers for another kiss, this one less urgent, yet equally as powerful as the first. She tasted so sweet, just like her. She was so fucking sweet, and the only thought racing through his mind was how he shouldn’t be kissing Casey Stewart. He’d only break her heart.

  Mistakes.

  He ended the kiss and pushed her away gently, hiding his guilt behind a gruff façade. “I’ve got to go. See you around?” She nodded, the unasked question in her eyes. He knew he should be handling this differently, but what could he do? He’d come over on a whim, and he had no business starting this with Casey. She didn’t need him.

  He turned and left.

  Chapter 3

  When Brent pulled into his driveway, he was met by his overjoyed blue heeler, Mooch, who ran up to him, with his butt-wagging and sticking his nose between Brent’s thighs. Brent obliged the dog by squeezing affectionately. It was the dog’s version of a hug, twisted as it was.

  “Hey boy. We got company coming, we gotta get ready.” He slapped the back of his truck, and the dog leapt into the bed, barking with excitement. They drove out to the quarantine barn, where the Sheriff’s trailer was already waiting.

  With Mooch’s help they unloaded three malnourished mares into his quarantine quarters, then called the vet to come out to do her thing. After photographing them and making sure they had hay and water, he shut them in their stalls and went to his barn office to fill out paperwork.

  He had offices in both barns, small rooms with a desk, small file cabinet and two chairs as well as a laptop that travelled with him between the two places. He printed out his pictures and started new files for the three rescue horses, Mooch laying on his boots. He’d gotten Mooch at the pound a few years ago, and he’d turned out to be the best working dog he’d ever had. Blue Heelers had a natural tendency to herd animals, and Mooch was no exception. In fact, he considered more than two of anything a herd, and tended to bark and nip at heels when Brent had company of any kind.

  The new horses looked alright, aside from being skin and bones. There were no outward signs of anything besides worms. No visible injuries, no serious diseases, just malnutrition. But he still called the vet to come out and do a preliminary assessment and write up a treatment plan for his files. If there was medicine to give them, Dr. Brown would make sure he got it. Brent went about filling out his initial assessment. He would wait until he got the vet’s assessment before faxing a copy of both to the Sheriff’s department for their case files.

  Brent cherished the quiet order of preparing reports and working his books. He was a physical guy, but something about putting everything into spreadsheets and files brought order to the chaos. He could track feed and fertilization schedules, as well as costs of everything with his trusty laptop. He could also use it to buy almost anything he needed for the sanctuary, and communicate and ask questions of other sanctuaries around the world. Typing up the reports put the abuse and neglect these animals suffered into plain terms that anyone could understand, and gave ammo to those who needed it if and when pressing charges of animal cruelty.

  When Lindsey Brown got there, he was just finishing up. In fact, Brent was so immersed in papers, he didn’t realize she was standing in the doorway behind him until she cleared her throat softly. He looked up to see her standing there, tall, slim, and looking great in her standard uniform of tight-fitting jeans, and a collared button down shirt with the vet’s office logo printed on her ample left breast. He stood and walked over to shake her hand.

  “Hey, Lindsey. Thanks for dropping by. I’d like to get these new ones in the system tonight.”

  She smiled at him sweetly, and didn’t drop his hand once they’d finished shaking. Instead, she brought her other hand up and clasped his between both of hers, caressing it while she talked to him. “It’s absolutely no problem, Brent. You know I’d do just about anything for one of my favorite clients.”

  Smooth as silk, she switched hands, so they were holding hands as Brent led her to the stalls holding the new rescues. He tried to ignore the gesture, because he didn’t want to give her any ideas. Brent knew that Lindsey Brown had an eye for him, but he didn’t want to encourage it. He tried not to have romantic relationships with women he knew, preferring anonymous mutual hook-ups.

  He was glad when she dropped his hand after squeezing it briefly to examine the horses in the stalls. He felt bad. He should really say something to let her know he wasn’t interested in her like that. But as she bent over to examine the horse’s hooves, he couldn’t keep from admiring her shapely backside. Maybe a fling with her would get Casey out of his head. He’d rather mess up his professional relationship with the best vet in town than mess up things with Casey.

  And starting anything with Casey would end up a mess.

  When she stood, Lindsey’s long blonde braid flung over her shoulder and she stepped toward Brent, her blue gaze trained on his lips, where her eyes stayed while she spoke.

  “I’ll leave you with the standard stuff, antibiotics, vaccinations, de-wormer, but I don’t think these guys need much more than a little TLC. They’ve been neglected, that’s for sure.” Her tongue snaked out to lick her bottom lip, and Brent knew it was an invitation. He was tempted to take her up on it, if nothing else than to get the taste of Casey out of his mouth.

  But he wasn’t ready to do that just yet.

  “Okay, well, let me know when you get the paperwork done, so I can fax it to the Sheriff’s office.” His stuck his hands in his pockets to keep them away from her and looked at the ground.

  “I can just fill it out in my truck, you can make copies here, can’t you?” He’d never imagined a conversation about paperwork could sound so damn sexy. What the hell was going on here? He heard a shuffle, and she’d taken a step closer. He took a step backwards, bumping against the wall behind him. Brent watched a light go out behind her eyes, as she nodded to herself, before turning and walking out to her truck. He exhaled a tortured sigh and turned to go into his office.

  Twenty minutes later, he was drumming his fingers on the edge of his battered desk, watching Mooch idly lick himself, when Lindsey returned and tossed a small st
ack of papers on his desk. He put them into the scanner/copier/printer next to his laptop.

  “You know. I thought I was reading the signals right.” She said it softly, he almost didn’t hear her.

  Not knowing what to say, he didn’t answer.

  “We are both adults, Brent. If you don’t want anything serious, we could just have a little fun, if you want.” He felt her fingertips on his collar, and willed the machine to work faster.

  He couldn’t deny that he was turned on. But not by the woman standing behind him, her fingers crawling up his collar to the back of his neck. He was turned on by the woman he’d kissed that afternoon. Turned on beyond belief.

  The memory of her soft body under his, her warm wet tongue twirling around inside his mouth, her fingers in his hair, the glimpse of pink lace he’d gotten. He could feel his erection push against the zipper of his pants, and he wanted nothing more than for Lindsey to go away.

  “Um. I don’t think it’s a good idea, Lindsey,” he croaked out through clenched teeth. Her fingers had made it to the hair at the nape of his neck, reminding him he needed a trim soon. Oh shit.

  Her hands went from his neck to his shoulders, and as she pressed against his back, her hands climbed down his chest. He had to put a stop to this.

  He stood abruptly and spun, clasping her hands in his, as he pulled her towards him. Glaring down at her, he repeated. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  Her smile was that of a child with a secret, and his stomach plummeted. “I’m friends with Cara Mason from Jacksonville. Real good friends. She tells me everything,” she purred.

  Brent didn’t know anybody from Jacksonville. Not by name anyway. The only times he ever went there were when he was looking for a night’s release. Realization dawned. It must have shown on his face because her smile grew broader.

  “So, you see, Brent. I know you like it quick and dirty. And I like it too.” She pressed up against his groin, grinding against it. Panic shot through Brent before succumbing to something inside him. He lowered his mouth to hers and let go of her hands, willing them to perform miraculous mind-erasing tricks. He needed to do something to get Casey out of his mind. And Lindsey seemed as good as any other options he had at the moment. She would certainly save him a trip to Jacksonville.

  He closed his eyes as his mouth crashed against Lindsey’s. Her mouth was wet and warm and tasted of stale cigarettes. He tried in vain to replace Casey’s image with Lindsey’s, but when his hands went straight to her breasts for a squeeze, one thought overrode all others. This isn’t Casey. She’s not a closet smoker, and her tits are real…

  He broke off the kiss with a gasp as Lindsey’s hands went straight to his belt buckle. “Stop.” He managed the words, even though he was disgusted with himself. He was so weak. He did and didn’t want her to stop.

  “I-I can’t do this.”

  Her eyes went to his crotch. “It looks to me like you can, Cowboy.” Her hands were still on his belt, but thankfully, they’d stilled.

  “Okay.” He breathed in deeply. “I don’t want to do this.”

  “Again, it looks like your little partner is begging to differ.” Her voice was grating on his nerves.

  “Look, Lindsey. I was trying to be nice, earlier. I gave in to you for a minute, but this isn’t going to happen. I don’t do relationships. At all. I’m sorry.” Not really. Get out. He was trying desperately to retain some semblance of composure, but it was rapidly dwindling.

  She finally pulled away, a pouty look on her face. “Okay.” She straightened her shirt before finally stepping back. He thrust the papers that had finally finished copying at her. “I’ll be back to check the horses in a couple of days.” She winked as she sauntered out to her truck, swaying her hips.

  Brent watched the dust trail wind down his driveway. He was about to turn to go back to the barn for the evening chores when he saw a second dust plume rise on the driveway. Mooch barked with recognition.

  As the plume grew larger, he saw it was Max’s dually pick-up. He grimaced to himself. “Good eye buddy.” He absently scratched the dog behind his ears as he watched Max drive up.

  Max was his oldest friend, had known him forever, knew of Brent’s obsession with Casey Stewart, knew of his heartache. Max knew about the pills. He’d thought when Lindsey left, he could just work himself into a stupor and fall into bed, but seeing Max’s truck, he knew he would be reliving the day’s events again. Soon.

  “Hey man! How’s it going?” Max’s quick grin was almost infectious as he got out of his pick-up and slammed the door, walking around the front of the truck and up the porch stairs. He held out his hand and pulled Brent in for a back slapping, one-armed hug.

  “Pretty good, man. How about you?”

  “Aw…can’t complain. Claire’s being all hormonal and stuff, so I thought I’d come help out a little.” The twinkle in Max’s eyes said he was loving all the hormonal stuff that came with pregnancy. Brent knew that Max would do anything for Claire, and if anything, she’d made him leave because he was driving her crazy.

  He just rolled his eyes and started out to his truck. “You feel like helping me muck?”

  “Sure.”

  Back in the barn, the two men made quick work of cleaning out the stalls and putting the old straw into the wheelbarrows before taking it to the compost bins outside the corral. The horses noticed and trotted up to the barn door to wait, Mooch using strategic barks to keep them out of the stalls, while Max and Brent put out clean straw. Brent went inside the feed room, as Max forked hay into the feeders. When Brent emerged with buckets of feed for the horses, they nickered softly in anticipation.

  “Nice to feel needed, isn’t it?” Max asked quietly, so as not to spook the horses lined up at the gate.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “You seen Casey yet? Haven’t you been working down the street from her mama’s place?”

  “Do you read minds now?” Brent ground his teeth together. He’d just been thinking about how nice it would be if Casey needed him the way these horses did. Max always knew which buttons to push with him.

  “Naw, just faces. So, what happened?”

  Brent poured the feed into troughs in the stalls and turned to go open the gate. “Too much. I made a mistake going over there.”

  “Why? She not interested?”

  “No, she’s interested.”

  Max’s features screwed up in confusion before they leveled out. “You still thinking about the—”

  “Yeah. I am. And I don’t want to talk about it.” As the horses came into the barn, Max and Brent worked together to get them into the proper stalls with their feed. The Colonel was a pushy glutton and could easily eat his own feed as well as the others’, and Sugar was timid enough to let him. The others hadn’t yet figured out how to deal with his aggression. He hoped Sugar’s timidity didn’t rub off on them and they figured out a way to keep the Colonel from dominating them all. The greedy stallion needed a good mature alpha mare to put him in his place occasionally.

  After the horses were in their stalls and bolted in with feed for the night, they turned to walk back to Brent’s truck.

  “So, you got some more today?”

  “Yeah, the Sheriff’s department brought out three neglect cases. Those piss me off.”

  “Yeah,” Max agreed. “Horses are a huge commitment. If you can’t handle it, people shouldn’t get them.”

  Brent grunted.

  “Vet checked ‘em out yet?”

  Brent looked at his friend squarely, trying to determine if Max was messing with him or not. Max raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  “Yeah, she came by.”

  Max prodded. “She still giving you play?”

  Brent nodded. “We kissed.” He hadn’t planned on telling Max that, but he needed help.

  Max nodded, thoughtfully. “So you gonna start something with her? Instead of Casey?”

  Brent exhaled in exasperation. “I don’t want to start anythi
ng with either of them.”

  “Why the hell not? You’ve been carrying a torch for Casey since birth, and Lindsey’s willing. I don’t understand why you don’t believe you deserve anybody, man.”

  Brent didn’t answer, because his friend was right. Max didn’t say anything else for a while, they just stood at the fence, looking out over the pasture. Beads of sweat from the residual heat of the day cooled between his shoulder blades as he watched the night sky. He loved this place, and had dreamed of having a woman here to share it with him. Casey, even, but how could he?

  Quietly, Max said, “You should just tell her, see what she has to say about it.”

  Brent knew exactly who he was talking about. The same woman he was thinking of. “Tell her what, man? I was a prick in high school? I was a prick later? I’m just like her old man? What, exactly, should I tell her?” He was managing to control the spike of rage, but just barely. He fisted his hands against his thighs.

  “You’re not her old man. She knows that.” Max’s soft voice had a calming effect on Brent, and he relaxed his hands before climbing into the cab of his old truck. Max slid in on the other side. “Just talk to her. She’ll understand. It’s been a long time, I bet she’s got some demons to exorcise too.”

  “I’m still not good enough for her.” Brent walked over to the truck sat inside, effectively ending the conversation. “I’ve got to go check on the new horses.”

  “Sure.” Max said.

  Chapter 4

  “Hey! I brought burgers!” The bell over the door tinkled, as Brent walked into his sister’s bookstore, A Summer Place. She was nowhere to be seen. “Hello?”

  He found her on a couch in a back room, laying under a blanket. His normally vivacious, put-together sister was a mess. Her hair, which last month had been a bright blue pixie cut, was now grown out and faded to a putrid green color with brownish roots. Her face was puffy and her eyes red as she peeked out from behind her blanket.