Educating Casey [Cattleman's Club 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenny Penn

  “Because this is Dylan and Josh, and you know how screwed up they are.” Patton paused for a second as if measuring her own comment and finding it to be less than adequate.

  “I mean really screwed up,” Patton emphasized as if Casey didn’t know what she meant. “Dylan is way too insecure to be the first to ever say anything, and Josh is way too dense to figure out when to say it, so that leaves you to be the sensible one and take control of the situation.”

  “Sensible one?” Casey wrinkled her nose at the very thought. The word just provoked an image of pigtails and saddle shoes in her mind, and that had never been Casey’s thing…unless, of course, the outfit was matched with a skirt that barely covered her bottom and a brassiere top that had set of chains running down—

  “You know me better than that.” Casey shook off that thought before it could lead back to Josh and Dylan. “I’d be insulted to be considered sensible.”

  “And if you weren’t sensible, I wouldn’t have gone into business with you,” Patton shot back just as the back door opened.

  Casey got a glimpse of Slade Davis, who had been about to step into the kitchen, but at the sound of Patton’s waspish rebuttal, he turned right back around and slipped out before Patton ever even noticed him trying to sneak in behind her. Casey noticed and couldn’t help but smirk over the observation.

  “I think your men are afraid of you.”

  “What?” It took Patton a moment to adjust to the switch in topics, but she caught up quickly. “Oh, please. There are three of them, all bigger, stronger, and—”

  “Still intimidated by little-bitty you.”

  “I’m not little-bitty.”

  “And I’m not dumb enough to tell Dylan or Josh the truth.”

  “Fine.” Patton heaved an aggrieved sigh. “You just sit there holding on to your secret little crush just like every other good girl—”

  “Oh, please,” Casey cut her off with a huff. “Don’t even try that insulting tone on me.”

  “—ever did as they waited for their Prince Charming to come and sweep them off their feet.”

  “I like to keep my feet on the ground, thank you.”

  “Of course, he ain’t never coming.” Patton shrugged as her lips began to curl back into a smug little smile. “Because people like me got off our asses and went out there and seduced all the Prince Charmings into our beds.”

  Casey blinked at that, not even sure what to say to that prediction. That she was right? Eventually another woman would come along and take Dylan and Josh away? She feared that would happen no matter what she did.

  “It’s seduce or be forgotten,” Patton declared, pinning Casey with a pointed look as she issued her an order. “Now stop crying over the matter and make your choice.”

  Casey sighed, sniffing back the last of the tears that still lingered in her eyes from her recent pity-fest and braced herself as she confronted her best friend.

  “You are a pain in my ass.”

  “And I’m right.”

  “And you’re right.” Casey couldn’t deny that Patton had a point.

  If she went home right then to strip down and wait for the boys in their apartment, Casey knew exactly what they’d do. If she was there every day waiting, there wouldn’t be any other room for another woman to come along. That still wasn’t love, though.

  The real question was whether or not it was enough.

  Casey honestly didn’t know.

  “It’s kind of odd, though,” Patton murmured as her brow furled into a frown. “I mean you running into them there, at the club…it’s like kismet.”

  “Yeah,” Casey muttered, shifting guiltily in her seat. “About that…”

  It had become apparent that Chase hadn’t revealed what had happened yesterday to Patton, which left Casey in the uncomfortable position of having to rat herself out. As much as she didn’t want to, she still had to.

  “You know”—Casey cleared her throat and tried again to confess, but found she couldn’t hold Patton’s gaze while she did—“it turns that Dylan and Josh are actually friends with Chase and the rest of the brothers.”

  “Is that a fact?” Patton stilled, straightening slowly up. “Then it’s not kismet…is it?”

  “They were there to investigate the fire…and, yes, they figured out who you really are and what I was really doing there,” Casey said, answering Patton’s questions before she could ask them. “And yes, under torture, I confirmed some things.”

  “Oh, don’t sweat it.” Patton huffed. “I knew Chase was upset about something last night. Now I know about what.”

  “He’s pissed, huh?”

  “He keeps saying that I don’t trust him, but I do,” Patton insisted before hesitating. “Well, I mean, I did, but he keeps saying it, and so I got to wonder why he’s so obsessed with me thinking he’s guilty if he’s not actually guilty, but I think there’s no way he’s guilty, so I don’t know what it is that has him acting so guilty, if you get what I mean.”

  Casey didn’t have a clue, but she was saved from that admission by the ring of the doorbell and then damned by it not a minute later as Patton escorted an all-too-familiar-looking woman into the kitchen. Casey could have sworn she’d seen her out at the club, possibly that first night she’d been with Dylan and Josh.

  It was hard to remember, though, anything beyond them. She was just about to say something, but the other woman stopped her cold with a quick shake of the head. Casey reversed course and pretended as though she didn’t know the other woman after all. It was clear that was what the woman, whom Patton introduced as Angie, wanted. She offered Casey a grateful smile as they shook hands.

  She continued to play dumb until Patton moved off to go retrieve a bottle of wine from the study. Almost the second that Patton disappeared from sight, Angie was leaning across the kitchen table to whisper furiously at Casey.

  “I didn’t know you knew Patton.”

  “I didn’t know you knew Patton,” Casey shot back.

  “What were you doing at the club?”

  “What were you doing at the club?” Casey asked that exact same question at the exact same moment but managed to answer before the other woman. “Checking the place out for Patton.”

  “And have you told her anything?”

  “Not yet.” Casey frowned, sensing a level of desperation in the other woman that didn’t match the situation. “Why? What don’t you want her to know?”

  “That I go there at all.”

  “But—”

  “I’m a travel agent,” Angie cut her off to explain as she offered Casey a pleading look. “Do you know how hard a profession that is with the Internet taking over? So to make a living, I specialize.”

  “And you think Patton wouldn’t understand that?”

  Angie didn’t get a chance to answer before the woman in question reappeared, leaving Casey to mull over the answer on her own. The woman couldn’t be worried that Patton would be judgmental about her livelihood. They clearly knew each other better than that. Still, it had to be something.

  It was as though there was a missing piece.

  Chase didn’t want Patton at the club. Angie didn’t want Patton to know she worked with the club. Had Chase and Angie had a thing? No. That couldn’t be because it soon became quite clear from their conversation that Angie was a virgin, which just seemed too damn weird and had Casey wondering if maybe she hadn’t had enough to drink. Even as that thought hit her, it was immediately followed by another.

  “Oh my God, it’s Lana!”

  It had to be. It made perfect sense. Lana was the one woman always there. The one who wielded a position of power that Patton would be jealous of. Casey was even willing to bet that Lana and the Davis brothers used to have a thing.

  “Who is Lana?”

  That question had Casey blinking and realizing that she’d spoken out loud. Now she had both Angie’s and Patton’s undivided attention. For her part, Angie looked paler than a sheet of paper, a reminder that
Lana was supposed to be a secret.

  “Nobody.”

  That lie probably would have sounded more believable if she hadn’t mumbled it, but in her defense, Casey wasn’t used to drinking wine…and she’d never been that good at lying anyway.

  “Casey.”

  “She runs things down at the club.” Casey cringed, unable to meet Angie’s gaze as she spilled those beans in a rush that stood in stark contrast to the way Patton slowly repeated them.

  “She runs things down at the club…” Patton went still, her eyes rounding in an almost comical look. “You don’t mean Lana Vey? About five-eight with a killer body and an enviable head of black silk that never has a single strand out of place? That Lana?”

  “Uh…”

  Casey wasn’t sure what followed that question. All she knew was that she woke up the next morning, passed out in a strange bed, fully dressed, and with a pounding headache. A shower didn’t help her memory much. Neither did breakfast, which was conducted by a cheery Patton.

  She was strangely happy, given Casey could have sworn she and Angie had spent the afternoon arguing. They must have settled the matter, or not. It made no difference in the end to Casey. As long as Patton was happy, then she could, at least, turn her attention back toward her own problems. She had two of them, and it was time to make her decision.

  Flee or fight.

  Chapter 23

  Feeling worse for wear, Casey gratefully pulled past the sign welcoming her home to the Ansley Creek Luxurious Condominium Complex. It had been a long drive, and her head was still pounding, but she was excited. It wasn’t a long drive back from Pittsview, but long enough for her to come up with a few good ideas about how to seduce her men and make a silent but bold statement.

  Patton was right. It was seduced or be forgotten.

  Nobody forgot her.

  Or so she hoped, but as Casey finally pulled to a stop next to the small sports car parked out in front of her building, she felt her stomach start to knot with a sick feeling. Maria had come calling a lot sooner than Casey had anticipated. She couldn’t help but worry as she got out of her car that the other woman might have had the same idea she did.

  If she did, then she was about to be thrown out on her naked ass.

  That thought put the smile back on Casey’s lips as she stormed up the path toward the breezeway that separated her condo from her men’s. She didn’t have any fear of what she’d find as she turned toward Josh and Dylan’s door. After all, neither man’s vehicle was parked out front, assuring her nobody was around to witness the fit she was about to throw.

  Only Casey didn’t get a chance. Maria came storming out of the brothers’ apartment, fully clothed and depriving Casey of the fun of throwing her out. The woman wouldn’t deprive her of the joy of being a bitch, though. Built like a tall, thin boy, Maria might have had the svelte sophistication of a model who had walked the runways in Paris and Milan and possessed the ability to convey a full statement without a speaking a single word, but Casey could smirk…and gloat.

  In fact, those were two things she did real well, not that she got a chance to do either. Maria didn’t pause as she clicked her high-heeled ass down the path to her tiny, red, over-priced car. She barely even glanced in Casey’s way. It was a rudeness Casey would have called her on, but she was glad to see the woman go and didn’t plan on slowing her exit down.

  If the woman wasn’t bright enough to realize what this situation called for, then that was her problem. Casey, on the other hand, knew just what was needed—that thought ended in mid-sentence as everything inside of Casey froze.

  Her gaze had shifted back toward Josh and Dylan’s condo. Maria had failed to close the door completely, and it had swung back inward, revealing nothing but carpet stains and dusty walls. The place had been stripped, and all that remained were the impressions of the couch feet on the floor and the light squares on the wall where their pictures had once hung.

  They were gone.

  Gone.

  They hadn’t said anything. Why would they do that? Why would they flee…unless, of course, they were running away from her. Casey’s heart twisted a painful lurch at that conclusion as she wheeled back around to stumble toward her door. She was sniffing back the tears as she fumbled with her keys, knowing she wasn’t going to make it to the bed before she broke completely down. She just hoped she made it into her apart— With a sense of déjà vu, Casey watched as her door swung inward to reveal an empty shell.

  They’d taken everything, from her toothbrush to the spare can of chili she kept in her pantry. Her clothes, her pictures, the scented dryer sheets she placed in the vents to help her place smell fresh—it was all gone.

  She’d been robbed, but Casey didn’t have to wonder who the burglars were. After all, they’d left a note along with a riddle that brought the smile back to her face.

  We have your stuff. Wanna get it back? Solve the riddle. I’m red and blue and you love me, too.

  The note was written in Josh’s distinctive cursive but must have been dictated because there was no denying Dylan’s curt tone in the instructions. It went to prove that they both wanted to play, and that this game was far from over.

  * * * *

  “This is the dumbest idea you have ever had.”

  That was saying something, given Dylan had had some pretty spectacularly stupid ideas in his lifetime, but this one…Josh took a deep breath and let it out slowly, telling himself as he did that it would all work out. Casey would be arriving soon, and she’d be welcomed by an entryway covered in zombie targets that were all riddled with bullet holes.

  “What?” Dylan blinked in strangely honest confusion. “You let me put them up in the apartment. Just think of how much more important it is for this place. I mean, hell, which would you rather rob? An apartment or a mansion?”

  “It’s not a mansion,” Josh snapped, driven nearly insane by a whole day spent moving and arranging stuff with his brother.

  He’d gone out to grab some screws and nails so they could hang Casey’s more mature artwork in the front entry, which would have been a thoughtful gesture to welcome her to her new home. Instead, he’d walked in to be greeted by the land of the dead.

  In the half-hour Josh had been gone, Dylan had clearly been busy decorating on his own. He’d thumb-tacked up the twenty or so paper targets he used when training with his gun down at the range. It had long been his theory that if a burglar broke into their place, he would turn right around once he saw those targets.

  Josh wasn’t convinced, mostly because he didn’t think the burglar was ever going to show up. Dylan, though, lived in a different universe.

  “Look, I just don’t think it’s appropriate.” Josh tried again to be tactful, but Dylan saw through the attempt and responded with his normal bluntness.

  “You think it’s low class.” Dylan leveled that accusation as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared back at Josh, all but daring him to deny it.

  “I think Casey will think it is,” Josh shot back. He’d agree with her, but obviously Dylan didn’t agree with him.

  “I think she’ll like it. What?” Dylan scowled at the pointed look Josh shot him.

  “You can’t be that naïve.”

  “That’s just what I was thinking when you suggested it would be romantic to send the woman all around town picking up her own flowers and such.”

  And such included a gift from the jewelry store that had caused a lot more bickering then Dylan’s concept of acceptable decorations. Josh didn’t want to go back there, but he did borrow the same line he’d used then.

  “Fine, then let’s ask her.”

  This time they didn’t have to wait to hear her answer because the doorbell rang as if in response to Josh’s challenge. Casey had arrived, and there was no telling what was about to happen. Despite the fact that they had been operating under the assured notion that she did, in fact, care very much about them, they didn’t know that for certain.

  As Josh
moved to answer the front door, he felt the first quivers of uncertainty snake through him, and he took a moment to quell them before reaching for the large brass knob. He took a deep breath, plastered on a smile, and opened the door, but the greeting died on his lips when, instead of looking down into the depths of Casey’s amazing eyes, he found himself looking straight into the cool, dark reflection of Maria’s gaze.

  “Maria.”

  “Josh.” She inclined her head with that cool greeting and stepped past him as if he hadn’t uttered her name in unwelcomed shock.

  Maybe he didn’t have the look down like she did. Maria’s features were certainly a mastery of perfected disdain as she paused to take in Dylan’s decorations. If Josh hadn’t been so taken aback by her sudden appearance, he might actually have been able to appreciate the look of outrage that flashed through her eyes as they settled down on his brother.

  “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

  Though it wasn’t innately an insult, Maria still managed to fill that comment with enough contempt to leave no doubt of her opinion on the matter. She never had liked Dylan. As bad as that was, Josh realized he’d behaved even worse because he’d allowed her to disrespect his brother. That wasn’t right.

  “This is his home,” Josh spoke up, correcting both Maria and all of his past mistakes as he stepped up to confront his former fiancée. “But it’s not yours, so I’m going to ask you to leave.”

  “Please.” Maria sighed, refusing to budge, even when Josh settled a hand on her arm to escort her back toward the open door. “I didn’t come over here to fight. I wanted to talk.”

  “We don’t really have anything to talk about,” Josh assured her, wondering when the last time was that they did. He couldn’t remember.

  “I think we do,” Maria insisted, digging in her heels and prompting a snicker from Dylan. “What? What do you have to say?”

  “I’m in love,” Dylan declared, loud and proud, before nodding at his brother. “And so is he, just not with you.”