A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2)

by Heather Hildenbrand

  The hay bales I’d come by to set up earlier sagged underneath the weight of all we’d put them through. Wrestling matches, dances, drinking games, pranks—it had all gone down tonight around this fire.

  The beer was almost gone. According to Ford, the pie already was. I caught sight of him near the food table and watched as he nodded at Summer—the signal to leave.

  I wanted to go too but all I could do was watch her.

  Jordan was different tonight.

  For the past few weeks, I’d spent all day breaking down the walls she put up only to have them restored again each morning. But tonight, she was open. Laughing and dancing and playing games. Gone was the closed off New Englander who needed coaxing every time I wanted to hold her hand or put an arm around her.

  Tonight, every time I looked at her, she smiled. And more than once, when I’d sought her out among our gathering, I’d found her already watching me. Maybe it was the drinks? I wasn’t sure when it’d happened, but she’d let her guard down. And, for some reason, it scared the hell out of me even more. Pressure. I felt it now. The responsibility of holding someone’s heart in your hands—and feeling your balance wobble.

  This couldn’t last, not the way we’d set it up. We’d bet on our failure. All this was temporary and I knew it. Like a long breath held until you burst. Frank was right; I hadn’t been living before. But I was damn sure going to live tonight.

  I rose from the camping chair and tapped my empty beer can for effect. Ford looked up at me expectantly. “One more?” he asked.

  “Nah, think I’m headed home.” I yawned for effect and Ford laughed.

  “Tired, I’m sure,” he said.

  I looked up and caught Jordan watching me—again—from across the fire, her head dipped low near Leslie’s where they sat talking and roasting marshmallows. She smiled at me and something in my chest did a somersault. I bobbed my head toward home in a silent question and she nodded.

  “Yeah, tired,” I told Ford, who only snorted.

  Tired of waiting.

  We said our goodbyes and the moment we turned for home, I slipped my hand in hers. She was warm and more, welcoming.

  “What about the car?” she asked when we veered toward the woods.

  “Too many watermelon shots for that.” I glanced up at the sky through the treetops. “Besides, it’s almost a full moon. The perfect night for a walk.”

  “In the woods?” she asked and I heard her uncertainty, but it only made me enjoy the prospect more. The two of us alone together in my woods. Nothing sounded better right now. Except maybe the two of us alone between my sheets.

  “I’ve walked this way a thousand times,” I said. “There are no lions, tigers, or bears. Trust me.”

  She laughed. “I trust you.”

  I knew she’d meant the words lightly—and only about my ability to navigate us home. But they felt like more to me. Everything about this girl felt like more.

  “Thanks for tonight,” she said a moment later. “I had fun.”

  “Watching Frank play drunk Twister was definitely a highlight,” I agreed. She laughed and I sighed.

  “What is it?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking about how much I enjoy your laugh.” I squeezed her hand to keep it light. I didn’t want to point out how she hadn’t laughed much before now—or why. “You’ve got a great laugh, slick.”

  She squeezed back and the look she gave me was the same one she’d been sending me all night. Eyes twinkling with starlight. Secret, sexy smile. Inviting.

  I was so fucking lost in it.

  We made it as far as the trees between the farm and our place. As soon as we were out of sight of the others, I grabbed her and backed her up against the trunk of an old oak.

  “Casey—” she began but I shut her up with my mouth. Not that it was a refusal by the sound of it.

  My lips covered hers and instantly, the tension between us ignited. Jordan’s mouth was velvety and sharp against mine. I hadn’t known a combination like it existed but with Jordan, it made perfect sense. She was surrendering, that much I could feel as she leaned into me, open and inviting and already taking.

  Her hands—the same hands that had stopped me in my tracks often enough—were suddenly everywhere. In my hair, roaming over my shoulders, and winding around my neck.

  In the back of my mind, the words she’d said on her phone call with Gavin began to replay, but I shoved it away. Tonight wasn’t about the future. Tonight was about what we could be to each other right now.

  I deepened the kiss, flicking my tongue out to run along her lip, and almost lost it when she made a small noise of pleasure in the back of her throat. I held her face in my hands and then dropped them lower to her shoulders and then her hips, running my fingers over the edges of the fabric of her shirt, teasing it up until I could slip my hands underneath.

  When my fingers brushed her bare skin, she jumped, the bark of the tree at her back scraping against my knuckles.

  But still, she didn’t stop me. Instead, she only clung tighter. When she tugged on my shirt, I moved so she could slip her hands inside. Her fingernails dug into the sensitive skin at my hips and I shivered.

  I pressed my palm flat against the bare skin of her lower back. She was warm and soft—and it wasn’t enough. I wanted more.

  I explored her spine down to the small of her back and then roamed around to her ribs, up to her bra, dipping a hand inside the fabric to brush over an already hardened nipple. Jordan moaned into my mouth and I broke away, yanking her shirt up. I shoved her bra aside, running my tongue over the tip of one breast then the other.

  She squirmed against me and grabbed my face in her hands, guiding me back to her lips on a whimper. I let her lead for a moment, marveling at the way our mouths fit, the sweet taste of watermelon still on her tongue as it trailed over mine.

  Jordan’s leg lifted and I caught it and wrapped it around my waist, then did the same with the other, lifting her against me, one hand under her ass for support, the other still exploring.

  I felt her ankles lock and her thighs squeezed at my ribs as she clung tighter.

  Every part of her felt like warm silk.

  I needed to see it. To claim it as mine.

  “Let’s go home,” I murmured against her ear, trailing kisses from her neck back to her jawline.

  “Mmm.” Jordan turned, capturing my mouth once again with her own and a rush of desire had me shoving harder against her, pressing both of us into the rough trunk of the tree. Not that I minded, but even after Jordan’s progress with small towns and country guys, I wasn’t about to take her up against an oak tree a hundred yards from all my closest friends. I wasn’t a complete idiot.

  “Home,” I said again, for both of our benefit. I planted another kiss against her inviting mouth and then one more on her chin as she craned her head up in enjoyment. I did my best to ignore her exposed neck and the way she seemed completely abandoned to what we were doing and where we were doing it.

  This was not the Jordan I knew, but I definitely wanted to.

  I let go her of her and eased her feet back to the ground. She looked up at me, eyes wide, lips parted.

  “Take me home,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire and demand.

  And I knew whether Jordan chose us or not, I’d always be hers.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Jordan

  I smoothed my dress and did another half-spin in my bedroom mirror, eyeing myself critically. Outside my window, birds chirped—probably a desperate cry for water judging by the heat already working its way in between air cycles from the central unit already struggling to keep up.

  In the hall, footsteps approached and I looked up in time to see Casey appear in my open doorway. He wore clean blue jeans, boots, and a button down with yellow and purple stripes. The whole thing was off-set with his ruffled hair, still half-damp from the shower. Even from here, I could smell his cologne. Hot damn.

  Two weeks after our Independen
ce Day encounter and I still felt fireworks every time I looked at him.

  A memory of last night flashed in my mind. Casey’s strong arms flexing as he hovered over me. The infinite depth in his eyes as he’d stared down at me, and the delicious heat between us as we’d made love. No one had ever made me feel so beautiful and fragile before. The way Casey made me feel—the constant wanting—was seeping in through the cracks in my walls and there was no stopping it anymore. Even when Casey wasn’t inside me … he was inside me.

  I licked my lips, catching a phantom taste of him, and Casey’s friendly expression changed immediately. Hooded eyes, wicked half-grin. He strode closer and my thighs literally ached at the sight of him.

  “Nice dress,” he said, his voice low. His hand found my hemline and very slowly, he eased the fabric up and ran his fingertips along my bare thigh. His touch left a trail of tingles in its wake. “I find it very … convenient,” he whispered and I leaned against him, inviting more and fisting my hand in his shirt to keep steady. He chuckled softly and eased back. “For later, I mean.”

  “You’re such a tease,” I said, mock-glaring at him and stepping out of reach, wondering if I should change my underwear or if there was any point. They’d probably just be wet again in an hour.

  “Hey, you watch your mouth, young lady.” Casey stalked closer. “I always make good on my promises. Not my problem you aren’t good at delayed gratification.”

  I scowled. “That’s because I don’t agree with this particular delay. Why did I ever agree to church anyway?”

  “Because it’s Founder’s Day and everyone goes to church on Founder’s Day. Even the ones who don’t go on Christmas and Easter,” he explained. “And because there will be free food after.”

  “That’s your reason, not mine,” I said.

  His mouth tightened slightly and something flashed quickly behind his gaze. “And because your family will be there and you can see them one last time and be done with them,” he pointed out.

  I sighed, knowing full well I was sulking—and I didn’t care. He was right. His idea had been brilliant, really. Seeing them in a public setting, at church no less, meant only small talk. No insults except those thinly veiled as passive-aggressive compliments. No more accusations against my dad or trying to repaint themselves the victim—or whatever Sharon had been trying to do at the end of our last visit.

  One more meet and greet. And then I could be done with them. Focus on Summer’s house. And Casey. I still had no idea what to do about Casey. About us. I could admit now that whatever it was we were doing, I wasn’t ready to let it go. But the end was approaching fast.

  He’d never move to Connecticut. I could never ask him to. Besides, I didn’t have a home to return to; I’d given up my apartment to come here. What would I do, move him in with my mother and me?

  I knew my other option. Stay in Grayson. But I shoved it away just like I did every other time the idea surfaced. I couldn’t build a thriving design firm in the middle of nowhere. And even if I could, I wouldn’t do it in Sharon’s backyard, that was for sure.

  Besides, it wasn’t like Casey asked. Things were good between us, but they were light. Like we still hadn’t fully opened ourselves up. And wasn’t that my exact intention for this whole thing?

  “Fine, let’s get it done,” I said, grabbing my purse and following him out. I almost missed the hurt that passed over his face before he hid it again. I hung back, trying to decipher it, but came up empty. Things had been perfect the past couple of weeks. Since the fourth, I’d barely even slept in my own bed.

  You’re imagining things, Jordan. Stop looking for problems where there aren’t any. I got into the truck and slammed the door, more than ready to take my own advice.

  ***

  The church sat on a corner lot on the far end of downtown. I’d passed it the day I’d arrived, just before my old Nissan had bit the dust. I sent my car good vibes as we passed by Frank’s shop, knowing it wouldn’t do a bit of good. Frank had already told me there was no reviving that thing. Not for less than buying a new car outright.

  Up ahead, traffic slowed as everyone fell into a line waiting to park in the gravel lot. Dean Stafford waved at us from where he stood directing traffic. I waved back as we slid into a space.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding. Church today must be serious business,” I said as we got out and joined the stream headed inside.

  Casey called out greetings to several people as we walked, never letting go of my hand as he smiled and waved and said hello to faces I couldn’t keep straight.

  “What is it?” Casey asked, slowing our pace so we fell back out of earshot of anyone else.

  “I was wondering what it would have been like growing up in a town where everyone knows your name and your life story.”

  “Comforting … and annoying at the same time,” he said finally. “But I’m sure you have a group of friends back home that know you the same way.”

  I bit my lip, trying to picture it for me and Gavin. Everyone had known his name. “Not me. My brother was always the popular one,” I said, shaking my head.

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “You see me differently than everyone else does, I think.”

  He cocked his head. “And how does everyone else see you?”

  “Bookish. Quiet.” I shrugged. “I was never one to go out much. I didn’t have a ton of boyfriends.”

  “Better not,” Casey muttered and I rolled my eyes.

  “I’m serious. I wasn’t very outgoing. I was too caught up in architecture and my plans for the future. Dad and I were always visiting buildings or houses, studying the design, discussing how we would have done it.” I looked up at the stained glass window we stood underneath. “We definitely didn’t make it to church much.”

  “Well, you’re here now,” Casey said and I was grateful he didn’t ask any more about my dad.

  A familiar face caught my eye over his shoulder and I tensed. “They’re here,” I whispered.

  Casey turned just as my grandparents disappeared inside the church doors. Wayne followed right behind them with Jenny tucked close.

  Beside me, Casey tensed. “Show time,” Casey said, glaring at the spot even after Wayne disappeared inside. Slowly, he turned back and took my hand.

  I expected him to lead me inside but instead, he raised my hand to his lips, kissed it, and lowered it again, cupping it gently in both of his. “Even if you don’t believe in God, believe in yourself,” he said.

  “I believe in God, Case,” I assured him and we turned for the church as I added, “I just don’t believe He’s in there.”

  We found Summer and Ford already seated inside along with Frank and Dean. Casey slid in beside Ford and I took the end seat. Summer leaned forward and smiled at me from across both of the guys and I smiled back. Dean and Frank both waved from the far end of the pew.

  It felt weird—in a good way—to have such a large group friends that were clearly more of a family. Even to me, I realized now. They’d welcomed me so completely. Not just as a business professional for a project. But as a true member of their family, no strings, no explanations.

  The service was better than I expected. The choir sang classics I recognized. Offering plates were passed discreetly. Women wore such a variety of hats, it kept me entertained even during the sermon when the cool air and Casey’s hand in mine threatened to lull me.

  My attention wandered during the mayor’s re-dedication; something about Grayson being a landmark after one hundred and fourteen years since its first settlement.

  Three rows back, a toddler gave a sudden, mostly unintelligible outburst, and I twisted toward the sound. But before I could spot the kid, I found my grandparents, sour and solemn, completely wrapped up in the mayor’s talk. Beside them, Wayne stared back at me, eyes burning with a wrath that jarred me in such a peaceful setting. I looked away and straightened in my seat.

  “Everything okay?” Casey whispered.r />
  I nodded, but for the rest of the service, I didn’t move. And I swore I could feel Wayne’s furious stare as it bored into the back of my head.

  Outside, after the service, we followed the stream of people to the back of the church. A large grassy area had been set up with covered awnings and tables underneath. One side held three rows of buffet tables. Wooden picnic tables were lined up on the opposite end, filling fast as families claimed their spots. I watched as kids broke away from their parents and sprinted for the playground.

  “You like kids?” I asked and then realized too late what I was implying.

  My cheeks heated, but Casey answered easily. “Sure. Cheapest manual labor you can buy.”

  I laughed and shoved at his shoulder. “I’m serious.”

  “Me too.” Still smiling, he added, “I love kids. Summer and Ford are already displaying signs of baby fever so I have a feeling I’ll get my fill here soon. But someday…” His forehead wrinkled then cleared again as if he’d thought of something disappointing or uncomfortable—just like the strange reaction he’d had earlier.

  I started to ask but then thought better of it.

  A haughty voice broke in. “Well, Jordan, it’s an unexpected surprise to see you here.”

  Sharon’s bored expression warred with her tight smile.

  “Hello,” I said, wary at the sight of Wayne looming behind her.

  “Your dress is lovely,” Sharon said and it took me a moment to realize she’d actually complimented me.

  I smoothed my skirt self-consciously. “Thanks,” I said, glancing from her to Wayne and then back to her again. “It was a graduation gift last year from my mother.”

  Sharon’s expression tightened at that and I fought to keep control of my temper.

  Casey’s hand settled over my shoulders, and he squeezed my arm. “She does look beautiful, doesn’t she?” He beamed down at me and I could only shake my head at his overly cheerful tone.