A Bet Worth Making (Grayson County #2)

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “I can’t do it without you,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

  I opened my mouth to argue, but the meaning behind his words sank in. I closed my mouth again, too eaten with guilt to response. Tears sprang to my eyes. “I’m right here,” I whispered.

  Pain flashed in his eyes at that, and I wanted to find some way to make it true. I hated seeing him hurting, especially for me. It was hurting me just as much.

  “Casey, I…”

  But words failed me as the tears became harder and harder to hold at bay.

  How could I tell him that his biggest victory felt like the exact failure I’d predicted? I couldn’t stay, not with my work here completed, and now, I couldn’t ask him to go either.

  “That’s great,” I finally managed. “Sounds like we’re both starting a new chapter.”

  “Both?” Casey’s brows wrinkled.

  “My grandparents. I fulfilled Dad’s wishes. I’ve seen them three times now, heard them out plenty. I can be done with it. And the house … they don’t need me here much longer,” I said. But instead of sounding like the good news I’d intended for it to be, it weighed me down.

  Casey stepped away, the closeness between us instantly turning cold and distant. My chest panged.

  He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Right, so new chapters. Both of us,” he repeated, the familiar ribbon of pain flashing behind his eyes.

  “Come with me,” I blurted and then clapped a hand over my own mouth in surprise.

  Casey’s head snapped up. “What?”

  “New England needs custom dirt bikes too,” I mumbled, but there was no hope in my words, just as there was none in Casey’s expression.

  He shook his head slowly.

  I stood there, feeling like an idiot.

  We both knew Casey would never leave Grayson. Finally, he made his way over and took my hand. “Jordan, meeting you was unexpected but it was also the best thing to ever happen to me. It made me fall in love with you and then me and then this place all over again. I can’t leave when it’s all just beginning for me here. I hope you can understand why.”

  I nodded, not willing to trust my voice.

  Outside the sun had dipped well beyond the tree tops. I looked up into Casey’s shadowed eyes, hating how familiar and comforting they were hovering right here over mine.

  A tear escaped, trailing fast down my cheek until Casey’s thumb swiped at it. “Don’t cry,” he whispered.

  “You said you love me.”

  “And that makes you cry?”

  I nodded, his thumb bobbing along with my chin where he still held my face.

  “Why?”

  “Because I love you too.” The words weren’t even scary. Maybe I’d been holding them in for so long, they felt used already instead of like the first time saying it.

  Casey stared down at me and I leaned up, content with showing him rather than attempting to talk about a lost cause anymore tonight. But Casey stopped me, so close that his lips brushed mine when he talked.

  “Stay,” he whispered. “Just stay.”

  My eyes went wide but his were hooded, almost closed, like he wasn’t even concerned about my answer. Or maybe he knew it was a lost cause too.

  I hesitated, the word “no” on the tip of my tongue. But it wouldn’t come.

  Could I? Stay? Become a small town girl? The girl my mother refused to let herself become? The girl I’d fought against by refusing to step foot in a place like this my whole life?

  For Casey, I wondered—

  A horn honked, jarring me, and I jumped back, yelping. “What the…?”

  I turned to find Sharon and John climbing out of their truck. My insides tightened at the sight of them here. What could possibly have made them come to me?

  Casey glanced at me once, his expression already changed to one of concern. “You want to wait inside?” he asked. “I can tell them to leave.”

  I shook my head.

  I’d stay. For just a little longer.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Casey

  At the sight of the DeWalter pickup rolling into the yard, every muscle in Jordan’s body seemed to coil and tense. She insisted on staying even as both Sharon and John climbed out and headed our way. I tightened my grip on her waist, hating this for her already. She should have been done with them, with the careless way they’d treated her so far. But here they were, back again for more.

  And ruining my moment with Jordan in the process. For a split second, I wondered if she was going to say yes. But then they’d pulled up and I’d watched her expression morph into one of betrayal and enough pain that I knew she would never stick around for more of this.

  “Mr. and Mrs. DeWalter,” I greeted when they got close, being sure to infuse my voice with plenty false Southern charm. “This is an unexpected visit. What brings you out to Grayson this evening?”

  John cleared his throat, looking pointedly at Jordan. She didn’t meet his eyes so he turned to me. “Heard you were starting up officially. Custom dirt bike builds. I’d like to place an order.”

  “You heard?” I repeated, blinking in utter surprise. Who the hell would even know that already?

  John shrugged. “Small town. Good news travels fast.”

  “And bad news even faster,” I muttered. And then louder, because I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, “Well, you’ve come at a good time. Just finished one this afternoon.” I flicked a glance over at Sharon, who was staring intently at Jordan. “Would you both like to take a look?”

  I inched closer to Jordan and watched Sharon expectantly.

  “I’ll just wait here if you don’t mind,” Sharon said. “I’d like to have a word with Jordan.”

  “Sounds good,” I said and planted my feet. “Go ahead.”

  Sharon glanced between Jordan and me, clearly flustered.

  Jordan laid a hand on my arm. “It’s fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll be fine.”

  I opened my mouth to argue but then shut it again, feeling beaten and strangely angry about it. Of course Jordan was fine. She’d been fine without me her whole life, and she’d be fine again when she was gone. She didn’t need me.

  Wasn’t that what she’d been saying all along?

  Without another backward glance, I turned on my heel and strode off to the garage with John at my heels. If nothing else, maybe I could get a sale out of the whole thing.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Jordan

  My knees trembled and then strained as I locked them stiffly. I folded my arms to keep from hinting at the nerves dancing in my belly and working their way into my shaking hands.

  If Sharon was here it was because she finally had something real to say. And for some reason I couldn’t name, that made me nervous.

  We waited until Casey and John had made it to the garage. Still, Sharon hesitated, and I wondered if I should invite her inside or offer her some tea. But no. Not this time.

  I tightened my folded arms and waited.

  “I know you only sought me out to honor your father’s request,” Sharon began stiffly. “I’ll be honest. It offended me that you didn’t come of your own free will, hurt my pride, really, and I … may not have handled myself properly.”

  I couldn’t help it; my mouth fell open. I closed it quickly and bit my tongue to keep from muttering anything that might ruin this apology—assuming that was really why she’d come.

  “At any rate, you’re here, in Grayson, and that’s what matters. Before you go, I owe you an explanation.” Sharon paused and I wondered if she was waiting for me to urge her on or tell her all was forgiven.

  “I’m listening,” I prompted.

  Sharon nodded once. “Twenty-five years ago, I was angry. For one thing, I always thought your father would settle here after high school, take over the dealership John owns in town.”

  “Dealership?” I echoed.

  “Cars. John owns the biggest Ford dealership on this side of the state,” Sharon
explained. Her brows wrinkled and her head tilted. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, that’s something,” she said almost to herself as her gaze flicked once to Casey. She looked back at me again. “Anyway, your father, back in high school he talked about leaving for college or to see the world, but so did everyone else at that age. So had I,” she added ruefully. “But no one ever did. The people in our town—in my family—stayed. It was tradition. So when your father came in talking about how he’d up and joined the Navy, that it was already a done deal and he only had a couple of months to go, I panicked. I tried to force him to stay, I threatened, I begged. I reminded him of the future we’d already laid out for him. His father’s dealership was set to become his…”

  Sharon glanced at John, who stood admiring Casey’s latest piece of custom handiwork. The bike was already sold to someone else but John was studying it closely.

  “Nothing moved your father. He was stubborn,” Sharon went on. “Then, they got pregnant with you, and I just knew I’d officially been forced out. They were leaving and there was nothing I could do to remain a part of their new lives.”

  Despite her obvious heartbreak, I was unmoved. “That’s not true. You could have visited, talked on the phone—”

  “I know. The truth was I was angry at myself. Their life looked a lot like mine had at that age—pregnant young, married young—except they saw possibilities where I hadn’t been brave enough to look. I was angry with myself for feeling stuck.”

  She glanced over to where John was now bent over examining another dirt bike, this one only half assembled and leaning precariously in the far corner.

  “You aren’t happy with your choices?” I asked and even though it was a question—the answer was clear.

  Sharon nodded, lips thinned in a resignation that felt like it’d been around longer than I had. “Not about John but about staying.” Her face fell and she picked at her manicure. “I didn’t want to admit I’d been wrong about my own life—or theirs.” Her chin came up and she added, “Pride runs deep in this family.”

  I snorted. No one could argue there. “John said he regretted how it went but he didn’t know how to apologize,” I said.

  Sharon nodded. “Part of it was the regret. Part was recognizing how much better off you all were.” She caught sight of my wrinkled brow and went on, “A few years after you left, Wayne came to live with us. He was a difficult child and became even more so as he got older. He’s been asking for his inheritance lately. Or a spot in the dealership’s management.”

  “And John said no,” I guessed.

  Sharon cleared her throat, clearly not wanting to get into it all. “It’s been difficult,” she said simply.

  “You thought I was here to ask for money too,” I said, softening to realize how much baggage and history had gone into her assumption. If Wayne as a child was anything like Wayne as an adult, it couldn’t have been easy.

  Sharon nodded, her eyes sad and glassy. “I’m sorry about that. We’ve been through a lot with Wayne, and Shelley, his mother. I won’t go down that road again.”

  “I can understand that,” I said.

  “Some years ago, I reached out to your parents,” Sharon continued. “We began talking, although infrequently, and then your mother began sending pictures. Usually around Christmas. I took what I could get. The truth was, I felt like the idiot. Clearly, your lives were better off without us. Without Windsor hanging around your ankle like a ball and chain, holding you back.”

  “It doesn’t hold me back,” I said.

  “I see that,” Sharon admitted, her gaze flicking to Casey and then quickly back to me. “Either way, I see this place exactly as you do: one big missed opportunity. I wanted more than that for you.”

  “You sound like Mom,” I admitted with a wry smile.

  “I told them a few years back I wanted contact but only when and if you kids were ready.”

  “And I never was,” I added, feeling the weight of that decision more than I ever had before. And I realized I’d been a hypocrite. Sharon had let her pride ruin her relationship with her family and here I was doing the same damn thing. And all of it built on prejudices and assumptions and stereotypes.

  Nice, Jordan.

  “Sharon,” I began and then changed my mind, my tone softening as I started again. “Grandma.” Sharon’s mouth lifted. It was the closest to a genuine smile I’d ever seen. “I’m sorry. Looks like we’re both guilty of the same sin. I’d like to … start over if we can.”

  She took a deep breath and her shoulders sagged as she exhaled. “I’d like that very much too.”

  She held her arms out and I stepped into them, hugging her right back. I was startled to find her scent reminded me of Dad’s—freshly pressed linens and starch. Moisture stung my eyes and by the time I pulled away, we were both swiping at the corner of our lids.

  We shared a smile.

  “Unless my eyes deceive me, you two are getting along,” Casey said, slipping a hand in mine as he came up beside me.

  I wondered how long he’d been eavesdropping to have such impeccable timing, but I didn’t mind. It was nice having Casey watching out for me. I squeezed Casey’s hand and leaned in against his shoulder.

  John’s eyes sparkled as he looked between me and Sharon. He planted a kiss on her cheek and she swatted at him but failed to hide her amusement. Huh. Maybe she didn’t settle as much as she thought.

  “Jordan and I have cleared the air, I believe,” Sharon said and I could only shake my head at the uppity way she described it. As usual.

  “We made up,” I added.

  John hooted. “About damn time. Jordan, we can’t wait to get to know you better.” He turned to Sharon. “Now can I buy a dirt bike from this talented young man?”

  “Have at it.” Sharon gestured and John immediately doubled back to the garage. Casey followed and Sharon and I wandered slowly along behind them.

  “I heard the house you’re building is coming along nicely,” Sharon said.

  “Yeah, I’m wrapping up next week actually.” I kicked my toe against the loose dirt, my good mood suddenly plummeting as I remembered how little time I had left here.

  If Sharon thought the same, she didn’t comment on it. “We’d love if you came for dinner before you left,” she said. “You and Casey.”

  “That sounds great, but…” I bit my lip, uncertain whether to bring it up and risk the progress we’d made. “Will Wayne be there?”

  “No.” Sharon shook her head. “And I apologize again for his aggressive behavior toward you. Wayne is…”

  “An ass,” I offered.

  Sharon laughed, which shocked me hard enough to stop me cold. “Yes, that is the most accurate isn’t it?” Sharon’s amusement died quickly. “I make excuses, I know, because of his circumstances.”

  “Because of Shelley?”

  Sharon sighed. “Shelley left when Wayne was fifteen. She said she had a job in LA and never came home.”

  “You’ve never heard from her in all this time?” I asked.

  “No. Wayne was okay at first but their home life was always a little shady, I think. Anyway, after a couple of years he’d fallen into the wrong crowd at school and I think … well, there I go making excuses. Anyway, I think he saw more than we know in those childhood years—men in and out, none of them kind to him or Shelley—and it changed him. Made him into something else.”

  “He’s not nice to anyone. Especially Jenny,” I said.

  Sharon sighed again. “I try to encourage her to leave but she’s had it rough too. Low self-esteem. It’s a long story, and it’s not yours to worry about.” She stepped closer and laid a hand very tentatively on my shoulder. “Wayne won’t bother you anymore. John will see to it. Will you come for dinner?”

  I smiled. “I’ll come.”

  “Bring Casey,” she added.

  I glanced over and found him watching me, half-nodding at whatever John was s
aying to him. Our eyes met and something warm passed between us. It didn’t feel at all like an impending goodbye and a pang of regret washed over me at what I was losing when I left. “I’ll bring him to dinner,” I promised.

  Besides, what was one more dinner when I’d already let him so far inside my heart?

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Casey

  I stood on the front porch, waving one last time into the darkness as the DeWalters’ truck disappeared down the road. When the red tail lights faded, I turned to Jordan and did what I’d wanted to do for over an hour.

  “That was—”

  Her words were cut short, silenced by my kiss.

  It was meant to be almost chaste, a measure of comfort against the stress and emotion of what she’d just gone through with Sharon and John.

  I had every intention of stopping again—but the moment our lips met, I knew it wouldn’t be nearly as gentle as I’d intended. Her scent, the feel of her in my arms—and the reminder that this might be one of the last times we were together this way—let loose a sudden desperation.

  I needed her.

  To savor it. To store it up for the future. A very lonely future at this rate.

  I kissed her harder and she gave a soft noise of pleasure, egging me on.

  The pressure increased, my lips hard and wanting on hers, and it took all of a split second for her to give in and melt underneath my hands. The tension in her shoulders and arms drained away and within no time, she felt like soft clay beneath me. Molding, shaping her body against mine.

  I pulled and she pressed back, the cool night air sliding up and inside the cracks between us, charging me with an electric current that buzzed underneath my skin.

  More. I needed more of her.

  My hands roamed, finding their way inside her shirt and up and over her velvet skin. I moved fabric aside greedily until her breast spilled free into my palm. My thumb brushed over her nipple and every inch of me lengthened and tightened as she moaned into my mouth.