My Mistake (Stories of Serendipity #7)

by Conley, Anne

  “What does that mean?”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, and squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know, Brent. I love you, and I don’t want to see you hurting, but I don’t know if I can do this. I just don’t know.”

  He reached over to her, and grabbed a tendril of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “You know I didn’t mean to blame you. It’s not your fault I’m screwed up.” He dropped her hair. “I’m sorry that’s what you took from my story.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “I also took that you’re not like my dad, Brent. He never would have seen a doctor to stop drinking. He never made any effort whatsoever, so you’re not like him in that way.” She bit at a cuticle while she thought. “It’s just that, I don’t know…you’re not who I thought you were. I’ve always had this glorified hero thing in my head with you, and I’ve got to reconcile that now with the you that I’ve discovered.”

  Brent’s heart plummeted. He’d been right. She’d fallen in love with the dream, and now that she knew the truth, she didn’t want him. He dropped his head into his hands and squeezed his eyes to stop the tears that threatened.

  “I understand. I don’t blame you.” That was all he managed to croak out, roughly. He stood and slowly walked back inside his house, Mooch at his heels, unable to look at her again, afraid of what he might see in her eyes.

  Defeated, he walked to his room and shrugged out of his clothes before lowering his body to his bed, when he’d pulled up the covers, he was surprised to hear a voice from the doorway.

  “I didn’t mean I was ready to give up, completely.” Casey’s quiet voice was almost a whisper, and he turned to her, shocked.

  “You’re still here.”

  She smiled at him. “Yup. I’m still here.” She walked over to his bed and he saw she had an overnight bag in her hand. “I’m going to stay a while. I couldn’t figure things out at my mom’s, and things have gotten…worse. So here I am.” She shrugged, before standing and going into the bathroom. When she returned, she was wearing pajamas and smelled of toothpaste. She pulled back the covers and snuggled in next to him. Her warmth sent a shiver of something wonderful through Brent. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but it made him feel so good, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Casey didn’t say another word, and Brent was afraid to say something to mess things up, so he held her while she snuggled into his side and fell asleep. Soon after, he was sleeping too.

  Brent slept surprisingly well, but when he woke, a soft, warm presence by his side had him turning over and pulling the feminine body close. He inhaled the soft floral scent without opening his eyes to dispel the illusion. A satisfied sigh escaped him, and he nestled closer, willing himself to go back to sleep and enjoy more of this dream.

  “Good morning.” His dream spoke, and Brent opened one eye, still not sure if this was real.

  “Mornin’.” Warily, he pulled his head back to look at Casey better. Her curls were wild, and her smile was sheepish. “You’re still here.”

  She smiled at him, and his heart beat a little bit faster. “You keep saying that.”

  “Why’d you come over?”

  “Well, something happened at home, and Officer Sanchez strongly suggested I not stay there. I made Mom go to Summer’s, and I came here.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I wanted to be somewhere safe.” It was an admission, he could tell by the way she spoke the words that she was taking back something she had thought but hadn’t said.

  “What do you mean? What happened?” He sat up, not wanting to relinquish his hold on her, but needing to get to the bottom of this. Why wasn’t she safe at home?

  “Apparently the intruder has been letting himself in and out of my house at will for a while now. And I just realized it.” She sat up and hugged her knees. “And I think it’s Kevin.” Her plaid pajama pants were modest, but just the idea of pajamas on Casey made Brent’s mind do inappropriate things. He shook his head to clear it, and let her words sink in.

  “Are you serious? What has he done?”

  Casey looked at him with eyes wide with fear, and he regretted his harsh tone. “I’m sorry for sounding like I’m mad. I’m not. I’m scared for you. What did he do?”

  “He took a picture from my wedding. Apparently, all the stuff I’ve been missing is him, too. He messed up my bed, I think he’s been sleeping there when I’m not there. God…” Her eyes widened further. “What if he’s been sleeping there while I am there?” She was trembling, and Brent pulled her into his body, smoothing her hair and breathing in her smell. He couldn’t help himself.

  “What did the police say? How’s he getting in?” He had so many questions to ask, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to handle them. She looked so fragile right now, and it wasn’t something he was accustomed to seeing in his Casey. She was strong. She was a fighter. She was a fucking sweetheart. And Kevin was scaring her.

  He would kill him.

  “I left my window unlocked. That’s how Officer Sanchez thinks he got in.”

  “In your bedroom?” She nodded against his chest, and his face paled with realization. Her panties that she’d been looking for that last time he was over there. “You think he went through you underwear? Those panties you were missing?”

  Brent couldn’t control the rage that swept through his body when she nodded. That asshole was pawing through her most intimate possessions, touching things that lay against her tits, her ass, her wet heat. He was touching and doing god knows what to the intimate pieces of silk and satin that Casey prided herself in teasing him mercilessly with.

  Brent was hot, his blood was boiling, and he needed to throw something, punch something, ride his horse fast, shoot somebody, anything to relieve the fury inside.

  He didn’t do any of those things. Instead he held Casey while she broke down in his arms. He held her and let her breathe deep shuddering breaths. She wasn’t crying, which Brent admired. He was close enough to crazed tears for the both of them.

  “This last week has been so unreal for me. It’s like I’m sleepwalking, Brent. It’s all just some weird dream to me. This can’t be real.”

  He didn’t know exactly what she was referring to: their fight, her stalker, or him. He held both of his hands against her face, turning it up to look at him.

  “Casey. I’m real. We’re real.” He used one hand to point between both of them. “This is real.” He kissed her softly. Holding back all the desire he felt for her, he managed a relatively chaste kiss, hoping to impart a feeling of safety and comfort to her. When he was finished, she sighed and put her head back on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, relishing the feel of her softness against his body.

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  “I don’t know anymore.” She sighed in resignation, and he felt a flutter of hope. “I want to be, but I know that you’re not my dad. You would never do anything to hurt me.”

  “Never. I would never hurt you, Case.” He squeezed her for emphasis.

  “Why did you leave me? That day, before you got hurt? You said you needed to think about some things.” Her voice was accusing him, and he realized how many times he’d already hurt her. He took a deep breath and decided to put it all out there. His insecurities were hard to talk about, but seeing the sadness in her eyes broke his heart. And he’d put it there. It was time to man up and tell her what he’d been thinking.

  “You had been talking about how you’d fallen in love with the idealized dream of your life with your ex.” He still couldn’t bring himself to say the man’s name. It was as if saying it would give the bastard more validity in his own mind or something. “I was afraid you’d fallen in love with an idealized version of me, too. The last thing I ever meant to do was hurt you. But this week without you has been hell.”

  Casey closed her eyes, and Brent knew it was a protective measure. She didn’t want him to see what was going on behind them, and it scared him. He watched her as she continued. “I don’t
know how much of us is remnants of some grade school infatuation, or if it’s real. I can’t tell if I’m enjoying you for the fantastic sex or because I’m in love with you and always have been. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice and get myself into a situation because I’m in love with the idea of something.”

  “That’s bullshit, Casey and you know it.” His hope withered with each word she spoke. Dwindling into something that made his chest ache, and it wasn’t because of his ribs. His finger came out and pointed at Casey’s chest. “What we have is way more than sex. I’ve had some pretty great sex in my lifetime, and nothing…Nothing compares to what we have.” His finger started pointing at her, jabbing at her chest, chasing her off the bed. To his annoyance, her mouth quirked up into a smile at him. “What we have is because it’s us, Casey. You and me.”

  “Put that thing away, unless you intend to use it.” She was grinning at him widely now, and he was trying not to get mad at her.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “A little.”

  “Why?” He was flabbergasted. Just a minute ago, she’d been declaring their relationship questionable at best, and now she was laughing at him?

  “You still do the pokey thing. It’s cute.”

  He looked at his finger, realizing that the smile on her face was a genuine response. She wasn’t mad at him, even though the pokey finger hadn’t been out much in years. It had been so long since he’d felt so much of anything that he hadn’t had a cause to use it. A deep relief washed over him.

  He couldn’t breathe, and it wasn’t because of his ribs, for once. “Can I kiss you?”

  She nodded as he felt a triumphant smile creep across his face.

  Brent crashed his mouth against hers. It was a fast kiss that he wanted to deepen with every atom of his body, but somehow, he held back. Breathless, he scooted back to his side of the bed before he pulled her down under him. “I will do whatever it takes to make us right again, Case.”

  “I’ll call Summer and let her and mom know, then. Do I need to call Max and tell him not to come? Or do you want him to come over too?”

  “I want you all to myself. I’ve got some making up to do.”

  Chapter 22

  Brent was out in the barn with Mooch, trying to get some work done, while Casey straightened up around his house, making it look less like an invalid lived there. She knew he didn’t want her to see exactly how weak he still was, which was why he wouldn’t let her help him with the horses. She also knew he needed to see for himself how strong he’d actually gotten. She’d go out and help him tonight, but for now, she was enjoying the solitude of his home, surrounded by Brent’s things. She’d been enjoying the comfortable domesticity of his small house the past few days.

  She was cutting up meat for a stew to simmer and fill the house with delicious aromas, looking around his sparse kitchen. She smiled to herself as she noticed his one sauce pot, cutting board, and scant selection of knives. She’d brought over her mom’s stew pot, but made a mental note to run by her storage unit later to bring more kitchen stuff over. If she was going to cook for her man, she needed the proper tools.

  Her man. As reticent as she was to admit she was falling for a guy even remotely similar to her father, she knew in her heart that she’d fallen for Brent years ago, and he wasn’t anything like her dad. He had made a mistake and fallen into a trap of pills, which he was climbing out of. Brent had worked hard for the life he was living now, and she knew the only thing he needed now was love. Her love.

  Once she got the stew meat browning in the pot, she added onions and garlic and sat down at the table to call her mom.

  “Hey.”

  “Honey! How are you doing? Is Brent doing better?” Her mother beamed at her through the phone lines, and Casey felt the warmth flow through the cables.

  “Yeah, Mom, he is. How are you doing? Is Summer sick of you yet?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m trying to earn my keep. I’ve been picking up around the house and cooking meals for her. She seems lonely, but she’s excited about her trip coming up. It’s going to be good for her, I think.”

  Casey smiled at the thought of her mom, following Summer around, picking up shoes and sunglasses, trying to fatten up the pixie-like woman. She hoped her mom wasn’t stepping on any toes. “When does she leave?”

  “Next week…Um, Honey?”

  “Yeah Mom?” Casey felt her heart rise to her throat at the tone in her mom’s voice.

  “I got a phone call from Officer Sanchez. They can’t find Kevin.”

  “What do you mean, they can’t find him?”

  “Well, that woman he got pregnant reported him missing three weeks ago, and nobody knows what happened to him. The big fancy house he bought with her has been foreclosed on, and he’s disappeared.”

  “I hope he’s not hurt.” Casey didn’t have any fond feelings for her ex, but she certainly didn’t wish any harm to come to him. If he was dead somewhere, she would feel awful. Even though that would mean the stalker had to be someone else.

  “I hope he hasn’t purposefully disappeared. The police are looking into that. They said it looks like he had some financial troubles and skipped town. It’s obviously bumped him up on the suspect list for your stalker.”

  Casey’s pulse started pounding in her ears while dread settled in her limbs. “That could make all this much more sinister than it first seemed, huh?” If his house had been foreclosed on, the evidence of his high-rolling lifestyle would be disintegrating, and something inside may have snapped.

  “The police are definitely looking for him.”

  “Wow. I honestly don’t think he’d have the guts to be malevolent, especially with me. I thought he was just looking for attention. He’s so…so…average. I don’t know how to explain it. The divorce didn’t seem to affect him that much, I thought he was relieved to be done with me. What do you think he wants?” The maddest she’d ever seen him was when she’d told him they didn’t have the money to buy the Hummer he wanted. It had nothing to do with her, specifically. To imagine him stalking her, taking her things, with the knowledge of his house being foreclosed on reeked of pre-meditation and sent a chill coursing through her body.

  “Well, I’m just telling you what the police think. Be on the look-out for him, okay?”

  “Okay. Look, I called for something else altogether, Mom. Do you have a minute?”

  “Of course, Honey.”

  Casey steeled herself. She had wondered her entire life, but had never had the guts to actually ask her mother. She had never wanted her to feel worse about her choices in life, but now she couldn’t hold back. Her own life seemed to hang in the balance. “Why did you stay married to Dad for so long? Why didn’t you ever leave?”

  A deafening silence came to her through the phone line.

  “Mom?”

  “I’m here, Honey.” Her mother’s voice sounded small. “It’s hard to describe what I went through during some of those times. But, the truth was, I was scared of what would happen. When I left things the way they were, I knew what to expect, I knew exactly how your father would act. If I’d left him, I had no idea how I would have supported you, where we would live, if he would find out and get mad, anything. There were just too many unknowns in the change. I realized now that was a mistake, but I couldn’t make myself do anything to change things at the time. I’m sorry…”

  Casey heard the tears behind her mother’s voice, and felt awful about them. “It’s okay Mom. I was just curious that’s all. Don’t worry about it, it’s in the past. And I grew up okay, didn’t I?” She was greeted by a sniffle.

  “I’m sorry, Honey.”

  “No. Mom, don’t apologize, that’s not why I asked.”

  “Why did you ask?”

  Casey wasn’t sure how to answer that. She wasn’t really one to lay all her problems on her mom. “Something came up with Brent, it got me thinking, that’s all…”

  “Brent’s nothing like your dad.�
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  “I know, it’s just got me thinking.”

  Her mother let go of a heavy sigh. “You can’t live in this town and not hear things, Hon. I may know a little bit about Brent…he’s different. Brent needs support through his darkness. He wants to be good. Your father always had a mean streak, even before he started drinking. Brent’s never been like that. He needs you.”

  Part of Casey wanted to know exactly what her mother knew about Brent, but the bigger part of her knew that her mother would have only been exposed to gossip, and she didn’t really want to hear that. So she didn’t ask.

  “Okay, thanks Mom.”

  After chatting some more and then hanging up with her mom, Casey added liquid and potatoes to the stew and went about cleaning Brent’s house. She dusted his knick-knacks, mopped his floors and then set up a special spot for when he came home that evening. The cake she’d made was cooling, and she licked her lips in anticipation

  Two hours later, she was putting the finishing touches on the cake frosting, getting ready to place strawberries around the edge, when she heard Brent’s boots clomp up the porch steps. Over her shoulder she yelled, “Take off your boots outside, I’ve mopped! And Mooch stays on the porch!”

  A soft chuckle responded, followed by a “Yes, ma’am.” Knowing what was coming next made her heart start pounding.

  When he opened the door, his face lit up as he removed his hat, clutching it to his chest. “Smells good, Case. What you got cookin’?”

  “Beef stew. You want a shower before you eat?”

  He looked around the kitchen, his eyes stopping on Casey. She stifled a giggle as his eyes reflexively landed on her shoes and she could see the mental calculations working on what her underwear looked like, based on her hot pink high heeled sandals. Then they worked their way up her body, taking in her white bootie shorts and hot pink halter top, sans bra. Under his gaze, she felt her nipples harden as he licked his lips.

  “Uh…” He seemed to register her question, and his gaze snapped back up to her eyes. “Yeah, let me take a quick one.”