Shaken, Not Stirred

by Sawyer Bennett

  My own explosion bursts forth, and I pull hard on the reins so Whiskey comes to an immediate halt. Casey sags as I straighten my legs in the stirrups and thrust up into her one more time while I start to unload, grunting out my pleasure like a fucking caveman. My entire body shudders, and I look up to the sky to see it looks impossibly bluer. The clouds miraculously fluffier.

  My heart definitely feels infinitely fuller.

  I grasp onto the back of Casey's neck and pull her away from me. She looks at me with muddled eyes and cheeks flushed a lovely pink.

  "You okay?" I pant hard, stroking my thumb up the side of her throat.

  Her lips curl and then part, rewarding me with a beautiful smile. She nods and murmurs in a shaky voice, "I insist we have sex like that more often. It's a damn good reason for me to move here to be with you."

  I laugh, pull her into me, and squeeze her tight, then just as quickly tug on her so I can see her face again. My lips find hers and I take her mouth sweetly, pouring every bit of my heart into it. She sighs in contentment and murmurs my name against my tongue.

  Casey pulls back marginally and smiles... as bright as the Wyoming sky. "I love you, Tenn."

  My heart squeezes in pleasure and equal parts sadness. It's because I love her and know now that she loves me that I need to do something that she might not quite understand.

  "Casey... baby," I say quietly, holding her neck firmly so she looks at me. "I love you too. But you can't stay here with me."

  Chapter 27

  Casey

  "Are you still pissed at Tenn?" Brody asks as he dries the pot I just washed. Alyssa is wiping down the dining room table while Mom and Dad sit out on the back deck and sip at their glasses of wine.

  I've been back from Wyoming for almost two weeks now and things aren't going well. And even though my preference in times such as these are to hide away with my thumb stuck firmly in my sucking mouth, I've decided to come out of hiding and join the real world again. My first order of business was accepting Mom's dinner invitation tonight because honestly... there wasn't anything that my mom's cooking usually couldn't cure, and my bad mood was in need of some fixing.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I say, "I'm definitely fucking cranky with him."

  Brody laughs and nudges me with his shoulder. "Have you heard from him lately?"

  "No," I say sullenly and viciously scrub at the spatula. "It's been three days."

  Three long miserable days without any word from Tenn. Three days that I have thought the worst... that he's moved on with his new life in Wyoming and what I thought was true love was apparently nothing more than just some overworked hormones when we were together.

  Now that we're apart, he's drifted away, and I'm so thoroughly confused and depressed, I'm doubting every single emotion the man had once made me feel.

  Two weeks ago, he packed me onto a plane and told me that he needed time to figure out what to do with the mess that had been dealt to him. He told me that I couldn't stay there with him because I would only be a distraction, but then he did say something unbearably sweet and which provided me with a small measure of hope.

  "I need you back in North Carolina, Goldie, so I have something to work for. I need you there to make me bust my ass to get back to you."

  So, I accepted that and with my heart sad over leaving him but hopeful that we would be together again, I left.

  And at first, it was fine. I missed him terribly both body and soul, but I was sustained with nightly phone calls. Random texts during the day fueled me on.

  I love you.

  I miss you.

  Can't wait to be balls deep inside of you again.

  He was romantic and utterly filthy in turns, and that first week wasn't so bad.

  Tenn kept me updated as to what was going on. Both he and Woolf had meetings upon meetings with the estate attorneys, the corporate attorneys, financial advisors, the various ranch and oil well foremen, as well as some other family members that were involved in some of the ventures.

  At first, I was buoyed by the fact that Woolf seemed to have finally stepped up to the plate. He assured Tenn that he was ready to take over the family businesses and give up his partying lifestyle. I remember Tenn had called me in the middle of the day, and he sounded so excited about it that I had the biggest smile on my face for hours afterward. I dreamed of the day he would come back and open up his custom bike shop and we would start our life together. Tenn assured me this was still his goal, and even told me that Nix was still on board and was content to wait until he got his shit sorted out.

  But then the calls started slacking and logically, I knew this was because Tenn was extremely busy. He was putting in eighteen-hour days right alongside Woolf, and it worried me because I thought... if both of them were that busy with trying to keep things running, how could Woolf ever manage it on his own?

  If Woolf couldn't manage it on his own, then would Tenn ever be able to come back to me?

  And then the thing that weighed heaviest upon me was the fact that if Tenn ended up being stuck in Wyoming, would he ever want me to come back? Would he want to continue to try to build something together, or would the Jennings dynasty suck every bit of him up and leave nothing behind for me?

  Four days ago, he called me really late at night and told me that he and Woolf were flying to Chicago to meet with some investment bankers at the urging of the attorneys. It was felt that perhaps the easiest thing would be to take the company public, which would alleviate some of the management responsibilities on the two brothers. I took this to mean that perhaps the attorneys weren't confident in either Woolf or Tenn's abilities to step into their father's shoes, and it felt like a backhanded slap to me.

  But Tenn sounded so resigned when I talked to him, so eager for some type of game plan that could set his course in life whatever it may be, and he told me quietly, "It's a good idea, I think. Hell, I don't know. Maybe."

  He was suffering under the same confusion and muddled thinking that I was, and frankly... it just plain fucking sucked.

  I got a text the following morning that he had landed in Chicago... and that was the last time I'd heard from him.

  And because I'm not one to sit around and wonder what the hell was going on, I called Tenn twice for an update. I left him two voice mails and asked him to tell me what was going on.

  I was met by utter silence and every day that has passed since, my anger started building until I reached the point that no matter what he said when he called, I knew he'd be on the receiving end of my ire first.

  "He's got a lot going on," Brody says guardedly. "He'll call when he gets a moment."

  I snort and level him with a sarcastic glare. "I'm sure he has time to take a piss... probably get a bite to eat. Even a few hours' sleep. He sure as hell could spare a few of those minutes to give me a fucking call."

  "Ouch," Alyssa quips as she walks back into the kitchen. "I'm thinking Tenn is going to get a major ass chewing when he finally calls."

  Almost as if on cue, my phone actually dings in my pocket and despite how mad I am at him and my bratty side demanding that I ignore him so he sees how it feels, I frantically reach into my pocket for my phone.

  It's indeed a text from Tenn, and my heart feels like it's going to leap from my chest.

  Back in WY. Have been slammed with meetings. Sorry haven't called. Will call soon.

  I stare at the text and my anger rages even hotter. I can't believe he texts me a lame-ass apology with a vague promise to talk to me at some vague point in the future.

  Don't bother, I hastily text back as Brody stares at my phone over my shoulder.

  Shaking his head, Brody gives me a reprimand. "Seriously, Casey? Kind of juvenile."

  "No more juvenile than when I tell you to 'bite me'," I sneer back at him, and my eyes stay glued to my screen.

  The first contact in three days and it's a brief text to me? I'm apparently not important enough to warrant a quick phone call?

  Asshole.
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  Another ding has me tensed and prepared for battle as I read Tenn's reply. You really don't want me to call you?

  Well, shit. Of course I want him to call me. I want him to grovel in apology for making me worry and hurting my feelings, but something that I call a little bit of the Markham stubborn pride rears its very ugly head.

  While I'm not willing to cut off my nose to spite my face, I take a middle of the road approach when I write back. I haven't heard from you in three days. It's really kind of moot if I hear from you soon or not.

  I study the message carefully. It's cryptic enough he'll scratch his head, but it's by no means cutting ties with him. It's merely my way of voicing my feminine displeasure.

  I hit send.

  "You are such a brat," Brody mutters as he continues to read our interplay over my shoulder. I turn away from him to shield my phone and patiently wait for Tenn's reply. I expect it will actually be a phone call so he can give me a piece of his mind, so it's no surprise my stomach drops just a bit when a text comes back quickly.

  It's only one word.

  Brat.

  Same fucking word Brody just used.

  "Aaaghhh," I scream out and throw my phone across the kitchen, watching as it shatters against the wall.

  Brody stares at me as if I've gone crazy, and Alyssa's mouth drops open in astonishment. Both my parents come running inside, looking around with wild eyes over the disturbance.

  I look around at each of them, their gazes all soaked with sympathy that Casey Markham is hurting and quite possibly going insane.

  Brody is the one that acts though. He merely opens his arms up to me, and I burst into tears as I step into my brother's embrace.

  "Feeling better?" Gabby asks as she burrows under my covers beside me in bed. We're watching our favorite movie, Talladega Nights, and although Gabby snorts and wheezes in laughter every ten minutes or so, I'm staring blankly at the screen.

  I look down into my empty wine glass, the fourth of the evening since Brody and Alyssa brought me home. "I'm feeling drunk, not better," I mutter.

  After my meltdown at my parents' house, Operation Casey went into full effect. Brody comforted me with his strong arms while my mom stroked my hair and cooed words of encouragement to me. My dad made a big production of cursing Tenn as a means of showing visible support of my position, even though I know he didn't mean it. He really, really likes Tenn. Alyssa jumped on the hotline and called Gabby, who was waiting at my house with three bottles of wine.

  I climbed out of Brody and Alyssa's truck, feeling like a wet noodle after I cried for half an hour straight. I immediately felt terrible for being--well, a brat. Tenn didn't deserve it, but I was operating on pure emotion and BHS... Battered Heart Syndrome.

  My immediate regret turned into despair when I realized that my phone was broken beyond repair and I couldn't amend my words to Tenn. I couldn't do this even when Brody offered his phone to me, because I had no clue what Tenn's number was. It was programmed into my phone so I never had the need to memorize it.

  My immediate thought was to go home and hover over my landline phone, hoping and praying Tenn would call, but then I remembered I disconnected that line over two months prior in an effort to cut down on expenses.

  Now all I could do was drink wine, get drunk, and let Gabby and Will Ferrell try to make me feel better.

  So far, it wasn't working.

  Logically, I knew Tenn loved me and that he would not let our last interchange rule the future of our relationship. He'd find a way to get up with me despite my broken phone. However, as a panicked and irrational woman feeling like she had just lost the love of her life, I was convinced I'd never talk to Tenn again. Oh, he would assuredly text me back, and hell, he'd probably try to call. But the texts and voice mails would all go unanswered because I BROKE MY FUCKING PHONE.

  Letting my head fall back, it thumps against the headboard and I give what may have been the longest, most pitiful sigh of the evening yet.

  "I'm so undeserving of him," I moan to Casey.

  "Oh, shut the fuck up," she growls at me, never taking her eyes off the television. "You'll get a new phone, and you'll call and apologize to him."

  "I can't afford a new phone," I whine.

  "I'll buy you one," she says before finishing the dregs of wine in her glass.

  "It won't matter," I say despondently. "By the time I get one, he'll have already found someone else. He's too good of a man, you know? He won't stay single for long."

  Gabby gives me a tremendously vicious eye roll but when her eyes come to rest, they aren't on the movie but rather on me. "Casey... baby... I love you like I love Will Ferrell. But you are really starting to irritate the crap out of me. Where in the hell is the self-assured, take-no-prisoners woman that I grew up with?"

  "She got whipped by love," I tell her with a drunken smile. "My poor heart has been battered by love and I'm not sure it will ever recover. In fact, I'm pretty sure even my ovaries shriveled up and died tonight. I'm a loser."

  She mutters something... I think confirming my loser status, but then reaches over to the nightstand to open up another bottle of wine. Silently, she unscrews the cap--because that's the way Gabby rolls--and fills her glass up again. She then tops mine off and puts the bottle back.

  Reaching out, she clinks the lip of her glass against mine and then takes a sip. I, in turn, take a huge gulp and after I swallow, I lay my head on Gabby's shoulder.

  I'm drunk, I'm sad, and that's a recipe for tears. They pool in my eyes and with the first blink, start sliding down my face. "I just want the same chance," I say quietly and maybe a bit slurred.

  "Same chance at what?" Gabby asks as she grabs the remote control and pauses the movie. She can tell I'm in a mood for some serious talk.

  "Love," I tell her tremulously. "I want what you and Hunter have. I want what Brody and Alyssa have. Gavin and Savannah, Wyatt and Andrea. I want what you all have, and I want it now. I want it with Tenn and no one else, and Gabby... I swear to God... if I lose him, I'll never smile again."

  She pats my hand briefly then wraps her fingers around mine, giving them a reassuring squeeze. "Casey... trust me on this, please. You are going to have what all of us have. And I'm just optimistic enough for the both of us to know you're going to have it with Tenn. Right now... you both are going through some tough times, but I know one thing... that man is crazy about you. He is not going to give you up, no matter what the fuck is going on back in Wyoming. No matter how big of a brat you were to him. I guarantee you that he is doing everything humanly possible to make his way back to you, and you know what? If he isn't able to get out from underneath those obligations, he's going to bring you to Wyoming. I don't want to lose you, but I'll gladly pack you up and send you off to him, because I know that this is what you are destined for. You and Tenn are meant for each other. You're going to get married, have the most beautiful babies in the world, and you are going to become a full-fledged member in our Club of Love."

  "Club of Love?" I ask with a true smile on my face for the first time since I broke my phone. "Is that what it's called?"

  "Well, we haven't officially voted on the charter name yet, but I think it sounds great," she says with another squeeze to my hand. And then in a voice that sounds so confident, I actually feel a tiny kernel of hope start to take root, she says, "I swear to you Casey. You are going to get your happily ever after with Tenn. You deserve it more than anyone else I know."

  I push up off her shoulder and turn my despairing eyes her way. "You really believe that? That I deserve something that good?"

  "You more than deserve it," she says confidently and then levels a stern gaze my way. "Now drink your wine, get a bit more hammered, and start watching this movie with me. It's our favorite."

  I grin at her as I swipe the back of my hand across my cheeks to dry them. "You're my favorite, Gabby."

  "Aww," she says with her eyes going soft and round. "You're my favorite too."

  Chapter 2
8

  Tenn

  I can't decide if I'm going to spank Casey first when I see her, or fuck her first. Maybe spank her while I fuck her and kill two birds with one stone.

  But truth be told, I feel so terrible that she's clearly hurting and confused, I'm probably just going to hug the shit out of her until she forgives me for being so distant the past few days. I was a dumbass for even thinking a text would suffice after we hadn't talked in three days.

  My shame turned into panic when Casey wouldn't respond to my "brat" statement. Then I called her and got her voice mail. Four calls and four messages later without a peep from her, and I went apeshit.

  Despite Woolf pitching a fit, I booked the next flight out of Jackson.

  "We got shit to iron out," Woolf yelled at me as I packed a small bag.

  "I'll be back in two days," I assured him. "Our shit won't be any more wrinkled in that time frame."

  Jackson to Detroit, Detroit to Raleigh, and the longest fucking three-hour drive of my life from Raleigh to Nags Head.

  I stopped at The Last Call, because I came upon it first. Although I didn't see Casey's Jeep, I still went inside and thank fuck... Hunter was there. It only took one look at my face and about twenty seconds, and he had me filled in on what was now called the infamous Casey Shattered Phone incident.

  He assured me that she was at her house, having gotten gloriously drunk with Gabby last night, and was refusing to come in to work today because and he quoted, "I don't fucking feel like working with a broken heart."

  I couldn't help the grin I leveled at Hunter before I sprinted out of the bar and jumped back in my rental to make the short drive to Casey's house.

  It's fully dark by the time I get there and I'm on the brink of absolute exhaustion, but something about the warm lights winking from her living room windows invigorates me.

  Because this is truly my home.

  Because Casey is inside.

  I leave my bag in the car, almost too tired to carry it, but grab the envelope that I stuffed down into the outer pocket before I left. I put it my back jeans pocket, eager to show it to Casey.

  Despite my fatigue, I end up trotting the staircase and bang firmly on her door as soon as I hit the top. Her soft footsteps pad closer and then the door opens.