Shaken, Not Stirred

by Sawyer Bennett

  I'd expected this but not so soon in the conversation. I thought he'd might take a bit of time to check me out first. "Yes, sir," I answer, but I don't provide any explanation or argument about the saneness of our actions.

  "Ordinarily," Butch says after he takes a healthy swig of his beer, "I'd say it's too soon, but I have to be honest... Brody here says he's seen some amazing changes in Casey since you two have been together."

  I cut a surprised look over at Brody, and he shrugs his shoulders at me like he really didn't say much of anything. When I look back at Butch, I say, "I'm not responsible for her changing. That's all on Casey."

  The respect in Butch's eyes increases further. "Yeah... Casey's a strong girl. She can do anything she sets her mind to. But I expect you may have been the catalyst to make her want to change."

  Turning to Brody, Butch says, "Will you go get me a platter or something to put these steaks on?"

  With a nod, Brody turns around and heads back inside, and then I'm alone with Casey's father.

  He flips off the grill burners, reaches under, and turns the gas off the tank. When he stands back up, he levels me with a stare. "There was a time that our family was a bit broken. Brody went to prison, Casey was a wild child, and Hunter was off trotting the globe. Then it started coming back together. Hunter moved back home and bought the bar. Brody came home and we found out the bitter truth that he went away for a crime he didn't commit, but after Brody revealed that to us, I really felt us start to get close again. Both my boys settled down with good women."

  He pauses and takes a sip of beer before continuing. "But Casey... she was a bit lost, and we didn't know how to reach her. Her mother and I love her very much, as do her brothers, but she always held a piece of herself away from us. Had been that way since Brody got sent away."

  I don't disabuse him of thinking this all had to do with Brody. It's Casey's story to tell her parents if she wants them to know what Jeff did to her and how it made her so jaded. How it formed and directed her actions... her choices... the way in which she viewed the opposite sex.

  "She's different," Butch says contemplatively. "A good different and it makes me happy."

  That seems to be the end of his soliloquy, and I heard the hidden message in there. He's grateful for this. He's happy for his daughter and he's telling me that whatever has caused this change in Casey, it's affected not only her, but her family as well.

  "I love her," I tell Butch bluntly, my gaze holding his.

  His eyes start to crinkle in a grateful smile that doesn't reach completion before I hear the small gasp behind me. Turning my head slowly, I see Casey standing there with an empty platter in her hands, her eyes pinned to mine. Wide, uncertain... possibly filled with alarm.

  But then it's gone. Acting as if she didn't hear me, she smiles at me softly before walking up to her dad to hand him the platter. "Mom said everything else is ready."

  My eyes follow Casey like a hawk, wondering what the hell is going on in her head at this moment. She heard my declaration... no doubt. But the variant emotions that filtered over her face in just the breadth of a nanosecond didn't reveal anything to me. If her dad wasn't standing right there, I'd grab her by the shoulders, kiss her hard first, and then demand she tell me what was going on in that sexy head of hers.

  Instead, I take another casual sip of my beer and intercept the platter from Casey. My fingers graze against her hand just before she releases it into my control.

  Butch opens the grill lid and starts grabbing the steaks with his tongs and layering them on the platter. Casey turns around without a word and heads back inside.

  "I'm assuming you haven't told her yet," Butch says as his lips tip upward, his eyes intent on his work.

  With a sigh, I look back through the sliding glass door and see Casey helping her mom set bowls of food on the table. She's laughing at something her mom says and then Brody walks into the kitchen and grabs her in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles over her head. I can hear her squeal through the closed glass door, and I can't fight the grin on my face.

  Turning back to Butch, I say with frustration, "Just never seems to be the right time."

  Placing the last steak on the platter, Butch closes the grill lid and looks at me with solemnity. "Son... I'd propose it never seems to be the right time until it is the right time. You'll know when it's right."

  I nod at Butch, his simple words making a fuck of a lot of sense to me.

  Butch grabs the platter. I grab the sliding glass door and open it, motioning for him to precede me in. He goes through. I follow and slide it closed behind me.

  "Everyone, sit down," Lillian says as she flits back and forth grabbing condiments and one more bowl of food... pasta salad by the looks of it. Butch leans over and sets the steaks in the middle of the table.

  Casey and Brody immediately fight for a chair, not because I believe it holds any special importance, but because the noogie he bestowed upon her earlier has seemed to waken up her inner brat. I shake my head with an amused smile and wait to see how it all shakes out. Casey manages to win by putting her butt on the seat, pushing hard to dislodge him, and then reaching up under his armpit and viciously twisting what I'm guessing was a chunk of skin and hair. Brody yelps and jumps from the seat, and Casey gloats.

  My girl. The woman who shut herself away. Who curled into herself when her brother got ripped away from the family and another man shattered her heart and her trust. Now opening her arms to me as surely as her heart, and doing so with almost a blind faith in my ability not to hurt her.

  I walk around the table and take the seat next to the one she claimed. Brody walks to the opposite side and sits down. Finally, Lillian and Butch take seats opposite each other at the ends of the table.

  "Eat, eat," Lillian says, motioning to the food on the table. Brody doesn't wait and pounces, grabbing a steak first and then a baked potato. Butch and Lillian start filling their plates, and Casey starts to lean forward to grab a steak of her own

  A quick glance at her and I see a warm, relaxed smile on her face. She gives Brody's hand a little slap when he tries to grab the butter from her, and her dad laughs at them. Lillian tells Casey to quit picking on her brother, and Casey gives her mom an eye roll that would rival Zoey's.

  It's at this moment that I get overwhelmed with the sudden desire to tell Casey that I love her. That no matter how she feels in this moment, I just need her to know how I feel, and I don't give a fuck that her family is sitting here witnessing it.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to make sure it's not Zoey calling. I'm surprised to see it's my brother, Woolf, because he never calls me. I hit the side button to decline the call, start to put in back in my pocket, and it immediately starts ringing again.

  "Sorry," I mutter to everyone at the table and hit the decline button again.

  "You can answer it if you need to," Casey says as she slices her potato open. "We're not formal or anything at dinner."

  "It's alright," I assure her, but then a ding alerts me to a text. I glance down and it's from Woolf.

  Call me. Emergency.

  Immediately, a zap of electric fear penetrates the center of my chest and my skin starts to tingle in apprehension.

  I stand from the table and mumble, "Excuse me. I need to make a call."

  Clumsily, I step out from my chair and manage to bump into Casey's hard. She looks up at me as my hand goes to her shoulder to steady myself a moment.

  "Tenn... are you alright?"

  I try to give her a reassuring smile, but I'm not sure if I'm all right or not. I'll know as soon as I call Woolf back.

  Chapter 23

  Casey

  Tenn pushes past my chair as his fingers tap something on his phone and he's putting it up to his ear. I immediately scoot my chair back, put my napkin on the table, and shoot my mom a quick glance. "I'll be right back."

  "Take your time, honey," she says and her eyes are as worried as I know mine are.

 
Hot on Tenn's heels, I follow him through the living room and out through the front door as he holds the phone to his ear. As I'm walking through, I hear him say, "What happened?"

  His voice is soft... filled with dread. I know something bad is going on, and my insides start to cramp with worry over Zoey. I step around Tenn and rest a hand lightly on his stomach to let him know I'm here if he needs me, which I think he does.

  The muscles in his abdomen bunch in reflex, but then he relaxes as he shoots an apprehensive look at me while he listens.

  I don't know who is on the other line but whatever they're saying produces an effect on Tenn. The foreboding leaves his eyes and is immediately replaced with a hot flash of shock. That quickly melts away and his skin pales, then I'm staring at full-blown grief within those blue irises. His lips draw down, a soft rush of breath blows through his lips, and then everything drains out of his eyes until they're devoid of anything.

  Flat.

  Dead.

  Just... nothing.

  My fingers curl into the soft material of his t-shirt, and I bunch it hard with anxiety.

  "I'll get the quickest flight out I can," Tenn says, his voice thick and hoarse. "I'll text you the details."

  He listens a minute more and then he pulls the phone away from his ear, not having bothered to say goodbye to whoever was on the other end. His gaze shifts away from me, staring blankly at the house next door.

  "What's happened?" I ask, my own voice scratchy with distress.

  Tenn's shoulders sag as if fifty-pound weights are on each side, and then his head slowly turns back my way. "It's my dad... he's dead."

  "What?" I exclaim as my entire body receives a sizzle of shock and my fingers tighten harder into his shirt.

  "He got thrown from a horse, and then um... trampled. Took a hoof right to his chest. Ruptured something in his heart apparently."

  His words are flat and monotone. I launch myself at him, burying my face in his chest and bringing my arms around his back to hug him as tight as I can. His arms immediately come around me, clinging hard, and I feel his lips press against the top of my head.

  "I'm so sorry, Tenn," I murmur as I turn my face to rest my cheek against him, my arms clutching at him in a desperate attempt to convey my feelings. "So, so sorry."

  He hugs me back, silently accepting my sympathy. My brain tries to process everything I know about Tenn's father. He's been notoriously tight lipped about him, and I assume it's because they weren't overly close. Tenn has told me that his father has pestered him repetitively to come into the family business of ranching, and Tenn has told me that he has no intention of doing that. I know he's just been waiting for his younger brother, Woolf, to sort of step up to the plate and fill his shoes, and now I have to imagine that in addition to the grief of losing their father, the two brothers will need to come to some sort of understanding.

  And shit... it hits me all at once. Maybe this is really Tenn's destiny. Maybe he has to take over the ranch now that both his parents are gone. And that means he'll be living thousands of miles away, and even as this fills me with a weird feeling of abandonment, I also feel tremendous guilt for even worrying about this because it's a selfish thought to have at this point.

  "I need to get back to your house and get packed... make some plane reservations," he says absently, looking utterly lost and vulnerable.

  "Of course," I say suddenly, pulling away and springing in to action. "I'm going to go grab my purse."

  "Apologize to your family," he says softly.

  "There's nothing to be sorry for," I say quickly, and then fly back into the house.

  I give a quick explanation of what's happened, and my mom immediately jumps up wanting to assist. She offers to pack food and get online for plane reservations, making a move toward the front door to step out onto the porch and console Tenn.

  With a gentle hand on her shoulder, I say, "I've got this, Mom."

  She nods and smiles sadly, sitting back down at the table.

  "I'll call you and let you know what's going on," I say as I turn away from my family.

  "Call us if you need us, honey," my dad says to my retreating back.

  "I'll cover you at The Last Call if you need to go with him," Brody also says, and I have to smile at his offer. He hates bartending, so this gesture really touches my heart.

  And I'm going to take him up on that because there's no way in hell that Tenn is going without me.

  He needs me but more importantly... I really need to be there for him. It's something I feel compelled to do, not out of obligation, but out of a sense of connection I have with him. His hurt has become my hurt.

  I manage to get Tenn loaded into my Jeep, and I know by the fact he doesn't insist on driving that he's out of it. Probably consumed with grief and even guilt, he does nothing but stare silently out the passenger window as I make the drive back to Nags Head. I rest my hand on his thigh and he places his hand on top of mine, then clutches my fingers gently.

  By the time we walk into my house, I have a game plan in effect.

  "Why don't you start getting packed," I tell Tenn firmly, giving him a push on his lower back. "I'm going to jump online and start checking out flight options. Do you want to fly out quickest or go through Raleigh and pick up Zoey?"

  More pain flashes through Tenn's face. "Fuck... I need to call Zoey."

  He looks lost as his eyes flutter around the living room, almost as if he can't even decide how to pick up the phone to dial his daughter.

  "She was really close to my dad," Tenn mutters.

  I know it's a stupid offer but I go ahead and make it anyway, knowing there is no way in hell that Tenn would ever take me up on it. He's not the type of man that would ever shirk away from his fatherly duty.

  "Do you want me to call her?" I ask tentatively.

  His eyes slide to mine, and I see the real Tenn underneath the grief. His lips quirk a tiny bit as he shakes his head. "Nice offer, Goldie... but you know I need to do this. Let me go ahead and do that now, and then we can figure out plane reservations."

  I walk up to him, press my body in close, and stand up on tiptoes, grazing a soft, gentle kiss on the side of his neck. "Okay. I'm actually going to go get you packed up and give you some privacy. Then I'll make our reservations once you figure Zoey out."

  "Our reservations?" he asks with surprise.

  "I'm going with you," I tell him firmly, leveling him a look that almost dares him to fight me on it.

  But he doesn't, which is good, because there's no way in hell I'm staying here. Not after I found out he loves me. Granted, he said it to my dad and not me, but I heard the words.

  He knows I heard the words.

  He knows I didn't run, and it should tell him something that not only am I not running, but I'm pinning myself to his side in his time of need.

  So, he might not have said the words directly to me yet, and I'm not even sure if I'll be able to say them to him any time soon, but I suspect that we both know what's going on here. It's just right now... with this tragedy unfolding for Tenn, there are more important things to do than worry about mere words.

  I need to show him how I feel.

  Reaching out, I lay my hand in the middle of his chest and rub my thumb over his breastbone. Then I give a soft pat and turn to head back into the bedroom to get his meager supply of clothing together, and get me packed as well.

  It doesn't take long for me to get organized. I can hear Tenn's soft voice in the other room as he speaks to Zoey, but I can't hear the details of that conversation. I'm thinking this is good, because I honestly don't know if I could handle listening to Tenn console a grief-stricken Zoey right now. I know what it's like to experience loss at a tender age and it's not pretty. Brody may not have died, and I may have been a few years older than Zoey, but it was a terrible loss all the same. It was as if Brody had died, and I felt my world had been turned upside down.

  As soon as I'm done packing, I place a quick call to Hunter. He had a
lready heard what happened from Brody and told me not to worry about my shifts and that they'd cover for me as long as I needed to be in Wyoming with Tenn. That was so sweet, and the perfect example of why I love my brothers, but I didn't think I'd be there long. I wanted to help Tenn get through the funeral, but then I knew I'd have to return to my life. I just wasn't sure if Tenn would be returning with me.

  After I hang up with Hunter, I pull the large suitcase I have filled with mine and Tenn's clothing off the bed and roll it over to the wall so it's out of the way. I cautiously walk back into my living room, and I don't hear Tenn talking anymore. I find him at my table, with my laptop open, leaning forward to peer at the screen.

  He doesn't look up to acknowledge my presence but says, "I'm looking at flights. You sure you want to go with me?"

  I walk up behind him, curl my arms around his chest, lean in, and give him a tight hug. "Totally sure."

  "Well, it looks like there's actually an early flight out of New Bern that heads to Detroit, and then in to Jackson. It's the fastest," he says as he continues to scroll through the choices.

  "What about Zoey?" I ask tentatively.

  "Brianna wants to bring her," Tenn says, his words flat but accepting. "And that's fine... I mean... she loved my dad too in her own weird way. She can get compassionate time off from her job."

  "How is Zoey taking this?"

  Tenn takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his hand falling away from the laptop. He places his palms over my forearms that are crossed over his chest and grips tightly as he eases his head back to rest against me. "She's devastated," he says, and his voice cracks.

  I squeeze on to him hard, trying to suck the pain away from him that I know he's suffering not only because his own father is dead, but also because he's a father to a child who is suffering. I know Tenn... he'll put aside his own misery to take on every bit of Zoey's.

  He lets me hold him for a few moments, even sighs when I lean to the side and press my lips to his cheek. I nuzzle against his skin and feel him melt just a tiny bit as he accepts my sympathy.

  But then he's pushing out of my hold and reaching into his back pocket. As he pulls his wallet out, he says, "Are you sure you can take the time to go with me?"

  "Absolutely," I tell him as I turn to grab my own purse so I can get my credit card out. "Hunter told me to take all the time I need."