Lie to Me (26 page)

Damian rubbed his thumb over her palm. “This upcoming confrontation would have happened eventually. It’ll just come sooner than I expected.”

“You slept with her.” She was sorry the jealous spat had erupted.

He kissed her head, hard this time. “It’s different when you make love to somebody who owns your body and soul, like you own mine.”

Her silly fears melted and she pushed away from him to look at him. Placing hands on both sides of his face, she kissed him and they didn’t speak anymore. Soon she turned off the light and they snuggled together, under the covers, feeling as if sheltered in a world of their own. His eyes shut first and he fell asleep, a gentle smile on his lips.

Casey leaned on her elbow for a long time, watched him in the darkness, and stroked his hair and face. She fought sleep with every fiber of her being, but finally, she lay her head on the pillow they shared and felt herself fading away, her head nuzzled under his neck and her their arms tangled around one another.

The first thing Damian felt the next morning were Casey’s lips kissing his ear, waking him, as he stirred and smiled. It beat the hell out of waking up alone and he forced his eyes open a slit. Not a moment later, Miles burst out of his room and ran to the sofa bed, jumping on it as he and Casey were forced to break apart. Miles’ smile was so wide Damian thought his face would split.

“I knew it!” Miles said. “I knew you two would get together again and I’d have a real family!”

Damian turned to the little boy, grabbed him, and held him close. “You knew before I did.”

“So you’re not going back to Alabama?” Miles sounded ecstatic.

Damian paused, feeling Casey’s hand on his shoulder, and it felt like home. “I have to go back for a short time to finish off a few details, but we’ll live here. I don’t want to take you away from your uncles, aunts, and cousins, even if they don’t like me very much.” He was in a great mood and laughed, thinking about how horrified the Riske family would be at this new development.

“Who doesn’t like you?” Miles asked.

“Miles, do you want pancakes?” Casey saved him.

“Can I help cook ’em?”

“Sure. We’ll surprise Uncle Alex. When he wakes up, we’ll have breakfast all ready for him.”

Miles rolled off the bed, and in his hyperkinetic way, blazed to the kitchen.

Casey was about to get off, but Damian grabbed her hand, his cock stirring with heat. He wished they were alone so he could make love to her. At the same time, he enjoyed the warm idea of Casey and Miles cooking while his goofy brother Alex slept in the next room. It sounded very warm and fuzzy.

Damian stiffened as he thought about talking to Reese today. He was very fond of her and knew this would hurt a lot, but she’d known of his love for Casey. She would have to deal with it, and he’d let her down gently. She was one of the sweetest people he’d ever met. Certainly, she’d be happy for him. Maybe he could set her up with Alex. The thought of playing matchmaker to a wonderful woman and his equally wonderful brother brightened him.

With that idea in the back of his mind, he rose from the bed and strode toward the kitchen. His leg felt a little better. A few Ibuprofen and he should be fine today. No reason he shouldn’t make pancakes with the two people on earth that he loved the most.

Maybe he could whip up some strawberries and whipped cream just for Casey later on.

Damian grinned, thinking about the glorious life he had before him.

Chapter Fourteen

Casey stood in the back of her store, looking at some logs as she punched her calculator. Concentrating on work was a Herculean chore that morning. She felt almost giddy. The smell of Damian, his touch and taste, were still with her, even though she’d showered. She couldn’t get his image out of her mind—his longish golden brown hair, those aqua eyes, that tall magnificent form.

He’d promised to visit the store as soon as he’d spent some time talking to Reese. She didn’t doubt he’d go through with it, and found herself feeling a little sorry for the other woman. After all, as Damian had said, she’d been nice to him and had taken good care of him when he’d needed it the most. He’d never spoken a negative word about her… Casey wrinkled her nose. Sickening
Miss Perfect! No, no.
She couldn’t be such a poor sport.

Blah.
Casey decided to focus on the future, not the present. And the future looked bright. Damian. Her heart fluttered as if she were fourteen years old and ready to meet her favorite rock star. He still drove her insane, would forever affect her that way. She started humming as she worked.

“You okay?” Claire stuck her head in back.

“What?” Casey looked over at her bright-eyed assistant, smiling.

Claire cringed. “Sorry to break your good mood, Case. It’s Sam.”

She grinned.

“I thought you couldn’t stand him.” Claire looked confused.

Casey thought of the previous night and her grin widened. “He’s all right sometimes. I’m surprised he could even get out of bed—never mind. Claire, I hate to ask this, but—

“While you talk to him, I’ll take care of the store.”

Casey patted her on the arm, feeling a rush of gratitude. Her young employee had been invaluable since Damian had come to town. “You’ll be getting a big raise.”

Claire looked pleased as Casey strode into the main part of the store. Then she stopped smiling as she saw Sam standing near the door. Neatly groomed and wearing a gray suit and silk tie, he looked as if the previous night hadn’t happened. She started walking toward him. As she got close, she saw evidence of his hangover in his reddened eyes.

“I’m surprised you can stand up,” she said.

“Can we step outside?” Sam asked.

“Sounds familiar,” Casey said, with a grim smile.

“George Fly isn’t here.”

Once outside, Sam rested his back against the bricks and crossed his arms. “God, you’re lovely,” he said, his eyes appraising her with too much lust. “Nice tight shirt—yellow becomes you—and you do look great in short skirts—such long, shapely legs—”

“Don’t make me slap you, Sam. I doubt your pounding head could handle it.”

“Three aspirins helped.” He took in a deep breath. “I only remember bits and pieces of last night—since the time I got thrown out of the last bar—”

Casey laughed. “I’m not surprised. I figured your memory would be foggy today.”

“Shut up.” He stared at her. “Did I say anything—embarrassing?”

She’d never seen Sam so red, and enjoyed his discomfort. “Depends on what you consider embarrassing. Mostly I wanted to find out what you knew about the various horrors that have been happening, but you denied all and I believe you.”

“Thanks.” That hungry look again.

“Sam, stop leering. I’m not all that much to look at. The Ballantine men need glasses.” She met his gaze. “Damian and I are together again. For good this time.”

“Dad called The Favored One this morning and Damian spread the joy. Sickening and a waste. You and that loser. God, I hate that bastard—”

“No, you don’t.” She told him what he’d said the night before and his blush deepened.

“I was just drunk,” he said, his gaze lowered. “I’ll be watching how he treats you and Miles. If he screws up again, he’ll answer to me.” He looked up and his eyes, usually hard and cold, glimmered with both humor and even warmth. “My kid brother better treat you two right.”

She held in a smile. His tone hadn’t been threatening this time. He would accept it, even if he didn’t like the turn of events. Suddenly she decided to take a risk, since he seemed in a generous mood.

“Sam, you have no idea where Damian and I were last night, do you?”

“No.” His eyes fastened her hers. “Where?”

“Would you turn Damian or me in to the police for a non-violent crime?” She held her breath.

Sam laughed and crossed his arms. “What kind of crime?”

“Would you turn us in?”

“No, especially you. All right, him too. What dastardly deed did you two do?”

“Went to the mill and logged on to your dad’s and your computer. Damian remembered your passwords—somehow he got on.”

Sam’s jaw dropped.

“You promised not to call the police.” She stiffened.

He recovered and shook his head. “I won’t. Even though I should. So what did you find?”

“A lot. First of all, who’s L, and what job did you pay him to do?”

He broke into laughter. “You saw that ominous message?”

“Yes. Who is he and what did that mean?” She already felt relieved because of his jovial reaction.

Sam flashed his famous smirk. “Do you mean did I hire him to bash shovels on Alex’s head?”

She didn’t want to push it so she smiled at him, hoping he thought she looked pretty. “Well,
I
never thought so. Damian wondered if the shovels were meant for him, but that the thugs screwed up and got Alex.”

“I think so, but I didn’t plan it and Leon doesn’t need shovels. Not unless whatever keeps clogging my toilet needs digging up.”

Casey blinked at him and watched as a smile spread across his face. Amusement lit his eyes. “Toilet?” she asked.

“He’s my plumber. Do you want more details about the problem?”

“No!”

They looked at each other and both laughed, her first shared laugh with Sam—ever.

“Any other interrogating questions?” Sam asked, resting his palm against the bricks, letting it hold his weight.

Casey gulped in some air, her smile disappearing. “One more. I—it’s not an easy question, but we saw something disturbing. In fact, Damian really became upset over it. Not just pissed off. Upset.”

“Damian upset over something I did? Shocking.”

She hit Sam lightly on the arm. “Stop it. Sam, what does your enemies list mean?”

He sobered at once and looked down. “That’s what you get for reading what’s on others’ computers.”

“Why is Damian on your enemies list?” she persisted.

Sam pressed his lips together and paused a long time before he answered. Casey was almost afraid of what he’d say.

He tried to speak a few times before words actually emerged, and in no way did he sound like the surly, snotty Sam she knew so well. “His name isn’t there for malicious intent.” He made impeccable eye contact with her.

He looked sincere. She’d never thought he’d meant to hurt anyone anyways. Still, he needed to explain. “All right, Sam. I can buy that, but it
looked
malicious. With all the underscores and exclamation points, you certainly weren’t happy with him.”

He flashed an icy grin and some of the old Sam returned. “I’m often not happy with Damian. He’s the thorn in my side that I can’t get rid of. Look, I’ll tell Damian why his name was there, since he snooped and saw it. What an insolent punk. Let me tell him before I tell
you
, and you’ll just have to believe that I didn’t plan to hurt him.”

“I’m glad, and I believe you.” She felt sweet relief.

Sam stared at her, his gaze narrowed. “I’m surprised he cares if I like him or not.”

“You’re his big bro. He’ll never tell you this, but he does care what you think of him.”

Sam looked undeniably pleased. “He’s such an asswipe.”

“Says the shithead.”

Sam’s cell phone rang, and he averted his gaze as he picked it up. “Sam Ballantine.” He sounded irritated.

Casey watched as he listened, and saw his brows knit together.

“You what?” he sounded baffled and rubbed his jaw. “I don’t really want to do that.” He let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t need some do-gooder trying to patch things up between myself and my brother. That’s family business.”

Casey froze and became fully alert as she watched Sam’s annoyed face.
Reese! Damn her!
As soon as the nasty thought filtered through her brain, she dismissed it. She wasn’t being fair. Casey wanted Sam and Damian to get along and would try to help—she had to work past her own jealousy and embrace this kind woman…even help her bring the two brothers together. The time was drawing close to when they’d mend fences.

Why is she the one who has to mend them?
Again, Casey beat herself up inside.
Why not? Maybe she can accomplish it.

Sam frowned and, when he spoke, his irritation clearly came through. “Why are you even getting involved in this? Do you know my dear brother is back with his ex? He’s about to dump you.” He locked eyes with Casey, and she crossed her arms. “Why try to do him a favor, especially one that won’t work?”

This was the Sam Casey knew so well, the one with a stinger that often did its job well.

“Not everyone is vindictive, Sam,” Casey said, in a quiet voice. And apparently Reese was one of those who remained gracious and giving even when upset.

Sam ignored Casey’s comment and continued. “Too bad you can’t find a way to change Damian’s mind and entice him back to Alabama,” he said, into the phone. “I’d appreciate that favor. I’d even help him pack.”

Casey felt her heart thumping against her chest as she continued to watch Sam, her annoyance level rising.

“Crap, all right, I’ll come by in an hour, but this is a waste of time. Yes, I can get off work. I’m off work now. Just drove down to visit Casey—yes, I’m with her… All right, sweet. I hope you enjoy fights. That’s what it will turn into. I hope you don’t mind blood.” He snapped his phone shut and stuck it back in his pocket as his eyes fell on hers.