All for You

by Christi Barth

  “Exactly.”

  Casey cupped his cheek with her soft palm. “I’m sorry she hurt you, Zane.” The tenderness in her eyes, and the thoughtfulness of the moment hung in the air. He’d accepted a lot of token, tossed-off sympathy from his fans, his agent, his editor, his new publicist, every polite person who heard the news, or noticed the pale band of skin that was the only visible souvenir of his marriage. He’d perfected the thanks, but I don’t want to talk about it nod of response. But this short exchange with Casey felt more real, more heartfelt, than all of those put together.

  But they couldn’t sit here all day while he wallowed in her compassion and understanding. Regrets were pointless. All Zane could do was move forward. “We had fun for a while. And the experience taught me some valuable lessons. I’ll be a much better husband the next time around because of it.”

  “Is that a proposal?” She pulled him to his feet. “I was only hoping to get to second base tonight. Wasn’t really geared up for a ring.”

  Zane appreciated her fast flip back to flirty banter. “I’m full of surprises,” he warned.

  “That’s for sure.” The look she shot him was guarded. All the playfulness and tenderness was gone. And she slid her hand out of his. “Cult expert, huh?” Casey spat the words out as if they were coated in three-week-old milk. “You could’ve mentioned that before.”

  “Why? Does it make a difference? Would you have preferred an English lit professor?”

  “Yes. I mean, no.” Flustered, pink brightened her cheeks. “It would’ve been nice to know you’re not really a professor.”

  “Am so. Even double majored, to really seal the deal. Wall full of diplomas. Or do you need to see me in a corduroy jacket with leather patches at the elbow to believe it?”

  She stared at him. Just when the length of the stare would’ve gotten weird, she slid her gaze down to his boots, then a slow climb back up. “Depends. What else would you be wearing?”

  Something about his profession had set Casey off. Maybe she’d had a weird run-in with a cluster of orange-robed cultists last time she zipped through an airport. Luckily, it looked like she’d decided to ignore it. Zane thought it was time to even the score.

  “Sorry. You said I was off the hook for offering up any more answers the whole rest of the hike. You’re the only one left on the hot seat. Tell me everything.”

  “Not a chance.”

  Game on, Zane thought to himself as he retook her hand.

  Chapter Five

  Casey yelled for her friends before the screen door of Cosgrove General Store even had a chance to slam behind her. She needed caffeine like plants needed sunlight. Like dirt needed worms. Like a whale needed...plankton? Yeah, oceans weren’t her thing. Although she did like the rum drinks with cheerful tiny umbrellas usually served at the beach. Which brought her straight back around to her current liquid crisis. “Did anyone pour me coffee yet?”

  “Yes,” Ella hollered back.

  Thank the merciful caffeine gods. Which must exist. Seemed like there was a god or goddess for everything else in the semester of mythology she’d dozed through. Maybe Dr. not-an-English-professor Buchanan would know the answer. And if he didn’t, he wouldn’t rest until he’d found it out. She’d never met a man who asked so many questions. Not that Casey minded. The last five days with Zane were probably the furthest from bored she’d ever been. His enthusiasm for, well, everything was infectious.

  Casey’s boots thudded against the wide planks of the floor. Every stride took her closer to the row of stainless steel carafes against the far wall. Out of seventeen years of habit, she jumped up, arm outstretched to try and touch the belly of the huge kayak hanging from the ceiling’s pine rafters. She’d never once made it. But the deep green boat had entranced her as a little girl, and she still couldn’t resist reaching for the glossy hull.

  “One of these days you’ll start with hello.” The grumbly bass voice belonged to Ward. He was as much of a bear in the mornings as she was. Casey considered it a public service that she gave him someplace to focus his sunrise sullenness.

  “Then you wouldn’t know it was me, would you, Cantrell?”

  A scattering of high tables with stools surrounded a long display counter in front of a chalked menu board. Casey had done her homework there for years, waiting for Dawn to close up for the night. The store was a wood and stone equivalent of a security blanket for her. As much home as the white and gray clapboard house where Dawn finished raising her. Casey loved every inch of it, from the wide plank stairs that cut through the center of the building beneath a hand-painted sign of an arrow, a fishing pole and a tent to the shelves of typical tourist kitsch lining the walls.

  Not enough, though, to take over as manager of the family establishment. Dawn had offered, just before Casey’s senior year in high school, to pass it down to her. Casey’s stomach dropped to the floor. Cosgroves had been passed down through Dawn’s family. They weren’t even related by blood. It was a huge honor, a gift to be offered this chance. She knew all that, and appreciated it more than words could say. But Casey couldn’t imagine anything more mind-numbing than running a store. Of course, she also couldn’t imagine letting down the woman who’d sacrificed so much for her.

  And in the very next breath, her stepmother had ordered her to go pursue her dreams...and thudded a stack of college brochures half a foot high onto the table. The woman knew Casey’s heart and mind like her own. It put a hitch in Casey’s breathing every time she thought about it—which was pretty much every time she crossed the threshold.

  Ward and Ella sat at the counter, eyes glued to Piper behind it. Her friend, snazzy as always, wore a hot pink dress today. Most redheads would’ve shied away from the potential color clash. Piper owned it. She wore it with the same confidence with which she wielded the knife through a jelly donut.

  “There. Cut in half for two people pushing thirty who still haven’t learned how to share their treats.” She plopped the halves in front of Ward and Ella, sending up a plume of powdered sugar.

  Ella’s fingers hovered above, not taking her piece. “I know I should be a bigger person. Let Ward have it all to himself.”

  “Yes, you should.” Ward held up a big hand and ticked off each point. “Because you know the apricot jelly filled is my favorite, and the bakery only makes it for a few weeks. And because my job is physical. I lift fifty-pound sacks of rye and hops. I roll huge, whiskey-filled barrels. And because you claim to be my best friend.”

  Ella rolled her eyes. “My job is just as physical. You try giving a massage to a man who’s cruised past three hundred pounds. Some days I feel like I’m doing a handstand on my fingertips. And you know what? You claim to be my best friend. So you should relinquish the donut.”

  This was ridiculous. They’d had this same argument every summer for as long as Casey could remember. It was time to put a stop to it. So she snatched up both halves herself. Shoved one in her mouth and clutched the other in her hand. “If you’d stopped whining and just ate the damn donut, this wouldn’t have happened. Here endeth the lesson.”

  Piper’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I’m so glad we didn’t let a little thing like growing up and getting jobs interfere with us all having breakfast together. Whenever somebody gets too pushy at the winery today, I’ll be able to deal with them with a smile on my face. Wanna know why? Because I’ll be remembering the shock and outrage on your faces.” She crisscrossed her arms to point at Ward and Ella.

  Still scowling, Ella pushed the oversized mug toward Casey. “You’re feisty this morning.”

  She swallowed and licked her lips. “I didn’t sleep well.”

  “Dreams of the doc keep you up?”

  Had she replayed the kisses they’d shared at the last waterfall...and then again at her car...and more after the dinner they grabbed at the brew pub? Sur
e. But the out-of-the-blue revelation that Zane’s field of considerable expertise was cults? That’s what kept Casey tossing and turning for two nights.

  “Yes. No. It’s complicated.”

  And she couldn’t talk about it in front of Ward. Which always made her uncomfortable, like wearing a wet bathing suit underneath clothes. The four of them were tight. No topic was off limits, no matter how many disgusted faces and slurpy, kissing noises Ward had made back in high school when they talked about boys.

  Her two years in a cult before Dawn rescued her was the only secret she’d never shared with him. Casey had pushed back the guilt, telling herself it didn’t matter. The topic would never come up. Because, come on, how many cult-ologists roamed through upstate New York?

  Yet here she was, freaking out more than a little about Zane...and unable to get Ward’s take. Damn it. Explaining everything now—coupled with having to explain why she hadn’t told him—would just open a can of very painful worms. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Ward’s feelings. So Casey threw a random conversational dart at the wall.

  “Ella, is everything coming together for the marathon?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s it? You and Gray are scrambling around like crazy to put together this enormous race to replenish the town coffers, and all I get is a one-word answer?”

  “Yes. That’s all you get. Until you tell us how your date went with the professor.”

  Piper came around the counter to give Casey a one-armed hug. “We feel responsible. Sort of. For convincing you to dive into it with him. At least, we feel responsible if you had a great time and want to reward us.” She straightened up. “If it sucked, then we’ll blame your honeybee-esque flitting approach to dating and speak of it no more.”

  “I take no responsibility.” Ward gestured as though waving a man safe at home plate. “I’m just curious.”

  The word choice made her smile. “You sound like Zane. The man’s curious about everything. It’s kind of fun to watch him light up, no matter what topic we land on.”

  Piper ran the back of her hand along her forehead in an exaggerated movement. “So you had a good time on your hike?”

  “Yes.” The words came burbling out of her, with more enthusiasm than for any man since her first serious crush on Dane Appelbaum in tenth grade. “Then we continued to have a good time in the parking lot for an hour. And over dinner at The Crooked Rooster. And more fun sitting in their parking lot for another hour. And then dinner again last night.”

  Ward gave an approving nod. “Sounds like you had your own marathon.”

  Which was funny, because for a minute, she’d contemplated ditching him. Making some excuse, pretending to get an emergency call from another ranger, and just walking away. Casey had spent years hiding from her past. Dawn had taken so many precautions to make sure that no trail led from the child she’d so famously rescued in California to their home here in the Finger Lakes of New York. Why risk spending any more time with someone who undoubtedly knew all sorts of details about the two years Acacia Greenspring had spent in the Sunshine Seekers? Why take the chance Zane could miraculously make the leap to discover that Casey Hobbes was that same person?

  But then two words had reverberated in her mind. Why not? Zane made her laugh. His kisses made her knees buckle. His generous attitude and lack of bitterness about his divorce astonished her. Zane intrigued her more than any man, well, ever. Casey had the feeling she’d have nothing but regret if she didn’t give a relationship with him at least a solid chance. Not that she’d tell him her secret, of course.

  Plus, he’d been so matter-of-fact about his career. Not sneaky, as if trying to snoop on her, or dig up anything. His cult expertise was a coincidence. Weird, but no threat. So she’d decided to ignore his particular field of study and just think of him as a professor. That’s what he was here to do. Period.

  Casey slurped at her coffee. Beamed at Ward. He wouldn’t realize she was trying to make up for her one big secret with this overshare aimed right at him—but she did. And it eased her conscience minutely. “At first I tried to ignore how much I liked him.”

  “Because you’re a no-strings-attached girl.”

  Ward used to call her casual-hook-up girl. This was a step up, but still not a nickname she’d want embroidered on a jacket. “Because I like to keep it simple,” Casey corrected. “Have fun and then move on fast before anything sticky happens.”

  “Before any one sticks,” Piper said with dramatic emphasis as she hitched herself onto a stool at the end of the counter. The seat as far away from Ward as possible...as usual. Their attempt to recapture the four for all friendship of their youth once Ward returned to town worked great. As long as Ella and Casey were always ready to referee the only somewhat stable truce between the former high school sweethearts.

  They were indeed an unbreakable unit. Friends first, foremost and forever. But there were deep emotional gouges between Piper and Ward as individuals. Casey had once seen a fist-sized hole in a wall covered with a thin layer of spackle. It looked fine. But if you put any pressure on it, the whole thing crumbled. She and Ella worried that would happen between Piper and Ward. So they didn’t say a word when their friends automatically occupied opposite corners of a room. Every. Single. Time.

  Whoops. Better answer the question before they noticed her quick zone out to worry about them. “Right. No muss, no fuss. Zane’s already been married once. Sounds like he’s open to trying again.” Which shocked her. You touch a hot stove once, get burned. Who’d be crazy enough to try it again? “What if it turns out, once we’re really into each other, that he’s a guy who embraces commitment and relationships? Everything I don’t want and can’t have. I should run the opposite direction.”

  Ella tightened the bright teal scarf around her ponytail. It matched the polka dots on her shirt—and her high-topped sneakers—perfectly. “Why didn’t you?”

  The answer came, quick and sure. “He’s too much fun. He’s too fascinating.” Casey swung around to poke Ward in the stomach. “Remember on your thirteenth birthday when you ate that ten-scoop hot fudge sundae?”

  “I remember eating it.” He crossed his eyes and shook himself all over, like a dog emerging from a bath. “I also remember throwing up about two minutes after the last bite.”

  Yeah, they all remembered that part. The Technicolor mess he’d left on the red leather booth stubbornly refused to fade even a little in memory as the years passed. “You knew it was too big. You knew it’d make you sick. But it was too delicious to resist.”

  Ella got up to refill her mug. “So Zane is yummy and deliciously irresistible.”

  It was all Casey could do not to let out the same moan she did when biting into a frozen slice of chocolate-covered cheesecake. “Yes.”

  Long red nails restlessly tapping on the wood, Piper asked, “And instead of enjoying this man that’s finally got you breaking out of your comfort zone, you’re sure at some point down that road that’ll all come back up and bite you on the ass?”

  “Probably? I’m not sure. This is uncharted territory for me. It could be stupid. It could be a mistake.” She leaned her forearms on the counter to grab Piper’s hands. “But we had a great time. Better than great. I’d put it on the top ten dates of all time honor roll. I could’ve stayed up all night talking to him again, if I didn’t have to work today.” Casey toasted the air with her mug. “We practically did, anyway.”

  “Practically did what? Talked all night?” Ward did the leering, wiggling thing with his eyebrows that must be genetically coded into men. “Or something more horizontal?”

  “Zane’s not like that.” He’d been the one pushing for something deeper than a one-night stand ever since their hike to the falls. And now that she’d grudgingly agreed to go along with his plan, Casey had to admit he’d been right to make them wait. This re
lationship, after only five days, was already headed toward more intimacy without sex than, well, any that she could remember. Other men were like kayaks, skimming along her surface. But Zane might as well be that stupid submarine he wouldn’t give up on—he just kept going deeper and deeper with her.

  “He’s a man, isn’t he?” Ward frowned as he grabbed a chocolate muffin off the platter. “I guarantee he’s thinking about sex with you.”

  “I should hope so.” Casey was on board with the waiting. For a little while. But sex was in their future. Their immediate future. Because she’d already seen Zane half-naked. Already knew the man deserved yet another PhD on his wall for how well he could use his tongue. She was about at her limit of resisting his six-plus feet of tanned, toned temptation. If necessary, Casey would pull out the big guns to get him in her bed—lingerie.

  Ella hustled back over. Set her coffee down on one of the high-topped tables. “I need to recap. Be sure I’ve got the facts straight.”

  Ward snickered. “If you’re hearing what I’m hearing, Quick Release Casey is reeling in a keeper.”

  She hated that nickname, too. Casey poked him again. Only refrained from tickling him because it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. Nobody deserved getting tickled that early in the morning. “Seriously, you’re one of my best friends. You can’t come up with something cuter? Maybe about how much I like trees?”

  “Forest Flirt? Waterfall Wench?” He doubled over, cracking himself up, if no one else.

  Ignoring him, Ella continued, wearing a very serious face. “It sounds like you’re trying something new. Stepping so far beyond your emotional boundaries that you need a passport.”

  “Stop being so wordy. Casey wants to have sex with him. And she wants to be with him, open up to him. In other words—” Piper jumped up and twisted and whirled in a happy dance, pulling Casey along with her, “—you want Zane to be your boyfriend!”