Burn It Up(62)

“That may be true, but trust me—that * still needed telling off.”

She shot him a look for the swear.

“Sorry. I’m angry.”

“I can tell . . . I’ve only seen you this angry once before.”

He frowned. He didn’t ever want her to see him this way. “When?”

“Last fall, when some of the rednecks were giving Duncan a hard time in the bar.”

“Oh, right.” Casey considered that, a tiny bit relieved. In that sense, he had his dad beat. Tom Grossier would snap if you annoyed him. Casey saved his rage up for when somebody disrespected or threatened his friends.

As that realization dawned, he felt the anger lift for good. And just in time—their food arrived then. He didn’t want those emotions here with him. Didn’t want them infecting the little bubble that he and Abilene inhabited here and now. He didn’t want to be like his old man or like James Ware or any other hard, angry man. He didn’t want to be how his brother had been, before Kim had shown up, so emotionally constipated he had to get into fistfights to vent himself. He didn’t want to be the kind of man that Fortuity demanded its boys become.

But he also had to admit, it had been way easier this past decade. Way, way easier when you didn’t have any commitments, nothing and no one you felt protective enough toward to tap into these macho bullshit lava rivers that flowed in men’s bodies, just waiting to erupt when a big enough fissure formed.

Fucking feelings, he thought, registering a rare and uneasy kinship with his brother and father. He turned his focus to his French fries, feeling hard and soft and completely bare-ass naked. Unarmed, even with the barrel of his pistol warm at his back.





Chapter 16


Drama at the diner notwithstanding, that afternoon was the most pleasant and relaxed time Abilene had passed in ages. After a stop at the drugstore, they drove around the county for an hour, taking in the landscape.

Even after only a week of being sequestered, she’d managed to forget how vast this place was. The sky seemed endlessly high, the badlands infinite. Freedom was nearly hers once more—not from the obligations of work and motherhood, but in simple ways. The ability to move as she pleased through town, and soon, the convenience of her own car.

Not that she’d be all that glad for these little trips with Casey to end.

Still, she’d get to work with him at the bar again, the place where their flirtation had blossomed to begin with, and soon after, their friendship. She might look naive, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew that every time they messed around, every time they spoke as they had in the car on the way to the diner, she was falling for him. It was dangerous, but so, so easy. More natural than any other crush she’d gotten tangled in. Her curiosity mounted by the day to know exactly what Casey had done to earn his record, and what he’d been up to since then, that he seemed unwilling to come clean about, even to his closest friends. If she was indeed falling, she ought to know. If you fell with your eyes wide-open, you at least knew what was waiting for you at the bottom. And who knew—maybe whatever he’d done hadn’t even been all that bad. Something forgivable.

Though in this situation, with Casey having made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t available for anything serious, it was more than she could ask of him. Even if she did uncover his past—whether it was nowhere near as bad as she feared, or unspeakably awful—it didn’t matter. It wasn’t down to her to decide to make this real. He’d told her straight up, it couldn’t ever be.

And maybe that’s a blessing in itself. It wasn’t as though Abilene was eager to share her own secrets. She shivered, watching the sun sink low over the mountains.

“Let’s head back,” she said. “I’d like to help Christine with dinner.”

“Sure.” Casey eased them onto the quiet highway’s shoulder, then swung east. “Nice to get out for a change?”

“It was perfect. The most relaxed I’ve felt in weeks.”

He smiled, eyes on the road. “I can tell.” He faltered on the final word, attention dropping to his lap for a second. Abilene caught it, then—the muffled hum of a buzzing phone.

“Pull over if you need to.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Your ex has your number now, so it’s probably not him. And I’m expecting a call, but it can wait until we’re back.”

Her thoughts immediately flashed to that conversation he’d had the night they’d first messed around. If “I told you no—now f*ck off” could be counted as conversation, that was.

“A call from who?” she asked.

“Duncan.” Though his answer came just a beat too late for her to believe it, she let it go. But he surprised her.

“Sorry. That was a lie. I’m not waiting on a call from Duncan. But it’s weird and personal and too much to explain just now.”

“Okay. Thanks for being honest, at least.”

He cast her a moment’s glance. “Sure. I’ve been trying to be better about that.”

“So have I.” It could be way easier to choose lies over the truth, but in the long run, looking back at how she’d handled things with James . . . The truth was scarier in the moment, but that discomfort passed quicker than the anxiety that came with going the coward’s route.