“Yeah,” Casey said, drawing the word out. This was probably not the time to tell him, still, she’d hated being lied to. And the wine she’d had—over many, many, many hours sure—tended to act like truth serum. “Jon, you know, I don’t really think—”
But Jon didn’t give her a chance. “Hey, I’m sorry, I’m exhausted. The whole thing was supremely weird. At first I thought they didn’t trust me, like I was someone Frank sent in as—I don’t know—a spy or a mole...? They kept leaving the room to talk. But we’ve finally got a plan. It’s not happening as quickly as I hoped—I wanted to do it tonight, but all right. I’m all right. But I gotta try to get some sleep. Tomorrow’s gonna be a monster of a bullshit day.”
“Okay,” Casey said. “Oh, wait, no, I’ve got your car and... I’m kind of back in LA.”
“I don’t need it,” Jon told her. “Well, maybe I will, but not tonight.”
Well, that was good, because she was definitely not driving anywhere in the immediate future. Now that she’d finally heard from Jon, she was gonna go to bed. And try not to worry about tomorrow.
“Or even tomorrow,” her brother added. “Day after... yeah? Maybe...? I might need it then. I’m not sure yet.”
He was still talking about his car. “I’ll get it back to you by then anyway,” Casey said. “Call me tomorrow after you meet your future husband.”
He laughed. “I will,” he promised, and cut the connection.
Shit.
But before she put her phone down, a text message slid onto the screen.
Hey. Just making sure you’ve seen this. You and the current BF. Or is it past tense now?
It was from Todd.
He’d included a post from Twitter that was... oh, shit. It was a picture taken of her and Rio in the parking lot of Werewulf’s, probably from someone either leaving or arriving, someone who’d recognized her. In the photo, she and Rio were clearly not in agreement, not even close. She was stalking away from him, hardcore angry, and he, too, was obviously upset.
Whoa, he was really upset.
I’m not sniffing around, another text from Todd came whooshing in. But I could be if you need a little distraction...
God, did Todd have to be so relentlessly Todd?
Swoosh. I really just wanted to give you a heads up for damage control, but you know me, sweet tea. I’ll never say never. And I also know you. Gotta expel that rage and we both well know your preferred method. So, call me if you wanna get him outa your system.
Yeah, thanks so much, good old Never-Say-Never Todd.
Fuuuck.
The stupid thing was, Todd did know her well. And her gotta-get-some-soon alarms had already been jangling before that parking lot betrayal and explosion. And oh, god, that kiss... The wine hadn’t worked to numb it all down, either. The wine somehow made it worse.
And the really stupid thing was, she did want to get him out of her system. Not Rio—who was he? He was nothing to her. But Luc...
Casey turned off the lights in the living room, then went to the back slider and peeked through the crack in the floor length curtains. And there he was. Luc. Or at least she could pretend it was Luc. It sure looked like the man she’d spent the past few days with, anyway.
Dave’s boyfriend. Ah, but no. As long as she was going to cherry-pick her reality, she’d leave Dave completely out of it. Besides, right now Dave was just another asshole who’d been baldly dishonest with her.
Luc—who was not anyone’s boyfriend—had tucked himself into the shadowy corner of the back yard, and was just standing there, relaxed but alert, legs slightly spread. Night watch, Tasha had said he’d called it.
After he’d showered late that afternoon, he’d pulled on a clean T-shirt—olive drab instead of the vibrant colors he usually wore. But even that dull color suited him with his dark hair and deep brown eyes. The shirt was well worn and it hugged his upper body, while his jeans...
Luc was ridiculously fit. And he cared enough about her to stand in her back yard all night to make sure she was safe.
Casey unfastened the night lock and slid open the door. As she went outside, his surprise was evident.
Surprise—and hope. Yeah, that was pure Luc. That I-can-fix-anything optimism.
God, was she really doing this? Yes, apparently, she was. Because why the hell not? Why not get something out of this fiasco.
“Everything okay?” he asked, coming toward her but stopping a careful, respectful, Luc-like distance away, in the middle of her yard.
