Burn It Up(25)

“I’ll get a bottle going—she looks like she’ll be wanting one soon. And I can help out some more once the meeting wraps. I don’t have much on my plate today.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.” Way better than I deserve. Yet way more trouble than I need.

But she wanted him all the same. More than just about anything.





Chapter 8


Good job, Grossier, Casey thought as he turned bacon rashers over on the griddle, pleased with how the first half of his talk had gone with Abilene. You sounded like a stern-ass man there. Not some stammering, horny mess, like Monday night, barely able to hit the brakes. That was what she needed in her life right now—a decisive, firm, reliable man.

She needed Miah, basically, but Casey could fake it for the sake of the situation.

Miah and his dad strolled in soon, both dressed for work, and Don lingered long enough to fill a thermos and eat a test pancake before heading out on ranch business. Vince and Kim were next to arrive. Christine excused herself, and Abilene stuck around until Kim seemed to have gotten her fill of baby ogling.

“Better be careful,” Casey muttered to his brother, and nodded in his girlfriend’s direction. “You might be next.”

“Thanks to all the Mom-sitting she’s been doing, I think I’m safe for a few years, still. All Kim seems to fantasize about is travel.” His attention turned to the heaps of pancakes and eggs and bacon laid out on the table. “Goddamn. Tell your mom thanks, Miah.”

“Hey, I helped,” Casey said. “I did the bacon. And Abilene did the eggs.”

Raina and Duncan arrived last, a few minutes past six. Had to be Raina’s doing—Duncan would rather slam his dick in a door than be late for anything.

“Sorry,” Raina said as she brushed past, making a beeline for the coffee. “I forgot there was no gas in the truck.”

“S’fine,” Miah said evenly, refreshing his own mug. He cast Duncan a cool look, nodded once in acknowledgment. Duncan returned it.

Miah took a seat on one of the two long benches, grabbed a wooden pepper grinder, and thumped it on the tabletop. “Let’s get this thing under way—I’ve got a feed delivery coming at seven. Item one, we need to get the security coverage worked out.”

“I took the liberty of printing up a blank roster,” Duncan said, pulling papers out of a leather dossier.

“You know,” Casey said, sliding the pancake platter over, “on TV, when motorcycle clubs hold meetings, it’s to discuss who gets to murder the rival drug lord.”

Duncan ignored him, clicking out the tip of a mechanical pencil. “Raina and I can cover the bar, through this week and also next, if necessary. That frees Casey up to stay here for much of the time, with smaller windows of cover so that he can attend to his personal domestic matters.”

He shot Duncan a funny look. “You’ve been to my apartment. I don’t even have any plants.” And he didn’t intend to leave Abilene alone for a moment longer than was necessary. He was already mixed-up from his nascent attachments to her and the baby, and that awkward-hot couch incident had only crossed the wires further. He was all messed up in his body with protective instincts he’d never felt for a woman before. He supposed that must happen when sleeping with somebody was off the table. Your dick transferred all that aggression elsewhere.

“You’ll want to at least escape to do laundry and check your mail now and then,” Duncan countered. “Vince, do you have any evenings free?”

He nodded and glanced at Kim. “You could watch Mom by yourself a couple evenings, right? If Nita could take the afternoon?”

“Sure.”

“And I can relieve Case for a few hours now and then,” Miah said. “After dinnertime, at least, but only until about midnight.”

They spent twenty minutes hammering out everyone’s shifts, and eventually a schedule came together. Vince had even offered to take the overnight watch duty on Friday so Casey could get an actual night’s sleep in his own bed, but Casey had declined—he’d only spend every last minute lying awake, worrying. Miah left for a minute to make photocopies in the office. He passed them out, grabbed a scoop of eggs, and plowed onward.

“Item two—the Ware situation itself.”

“Been working on that,” Casey said. “I talked to Abilene this morning. She’s promised to talk to him, if a meeting can get arranged. If anybody runs into him, give him my number. I’ll set it up.”

Everyone nodded except Duncan, who, with the admin portion of the meeting wrapped, had gone silent, clearly feeling out of place when it came to matters that couldn’t be solved with a spreadsheet.

“Sounds good,” Vince said. “Keeping her safe’s priority number one, but it’s not going to work as a long-term solution. We need to know ASAP if this is going to end in some awkward convo or if a restraining order’s getting filed.”

Casey winced. Neither outcome appealed to him. Of course the latter was the worst-case scenario, but there was also a petty, insecure bit of him that couldn’t help but think that she’d liked the guy enough to be in a relationship with him. She might’ve loved him, even, provided she hadn’t stuck around out of fear. While a civil reconciliation was undoubtedly the best result they could hope for, his coffee curdled in his gut as he imagined them getting so good with each other that maybe they’d try to get back together, to make things work for Mercy’s sake.