Justified

by Jay Crownover

  Chapter Six

  Jessica sat at the bar, sipping a margarita and trying to catch a buzz. After settling Hope down, she’d asked Carmen what the hell she was supposed to do now. And Carmen had said, “Get drunk.”

  Normally, she’d have blown that off and set herself about fixing everything. But these were not normal times.

  So here she sat.

  It had been a huge mistake to bring Hope to Big Verde. Carmen was right. Nobody was coming to take anybody away. She should have let her stay with Carmen in Houston. But the last thing her mom had said was Take care of Hope.

  Her mom. She’d die all over again if she knew Jessica had blabbed about Wade Long being Hope’s father right in front of Hope! Maybe Hope would forget about it.

  She caught the bartender’s eye and raised her empty glass. He nodded and began measuring ingredients into the blender.

  Hope wouldn’t forget about it.

  She’d been so excited and confused by what she’d heard that she couldn’t even eat her dinner. And Hope lived for food.

  Carmen had gone on and on about how good it was—which meant it was really good—while Hope had asked a million questions.

  Carmen: This fried brie is to die for!

  Hope: But where is my daddy?

  Jessica: He’s not really your dad—

  Carmen: Did you taste the sauerbraten?

  Hope: Will he buy me a doll?

  Jessica had felt too sick to eat. How could she explain to an eleven-year-old that her “daddy” had used his power and privilege to coerce a woman into a sexual relationship? And that when the relationship resulted in a pregnancy, he’d threatened to have her deported.

  Her mom had sworn her to secrecy. And Jessica had understood the importance of cooperation. It didn’t need to be spelled out for her. If Wade Long alerted the authorities, her pregnant mom would have been forced to leave the country.

  While sobbing, she’d written a letter to Casey.

  Dear Casey,

  Something horrible has happened and my mom and I have to move to Houston. I will write you when I get there, so you can come find me. I’m having to sneak this in the mail. THIS IS TOP SECRET. Do not tell a soul!

  I love you. We’ll be together again soon.

  Jessica

  She’d put a stamp on it and dropped it in a box in a strip mall when they’d stopped for fast food.

  Two weeks later, she’d dropped another letter in the mail. Begging him to call. Hang up if my mom answers! I love you, Casey. Come find me.

  Three more letters. Come find me! Casey, why aren’t you answering?

  He never did. Her mom said all Long men were horrible. They took what they wanted and discarded you. Jessica hadn’t believed it at first.

  With time though…

  She sighed, worrying about Hope. How could she explain this? Hope’s tendency to fixate on things meant she repeated herself endlessly. And this was one thing nobody wanted to hear. Carmen had taken her swimming again in the hopes of distracting her. She’ll forget all about it after some ice cream and a swim.

  Only she wouldn’t. And Jessica knew it.

  The bartender set her second margarita in front of her. She decided to go for the guzzle. She sucked up about a third of the frosty beverage through the straw, and then grimaced and grabbed her head because (a) brain freeze and (b) Casey had just walked into the bar.

  What the hell was he doing here? She grabbed her glass—she wasn’t abandoning her margarita—and slunk off the barstool. But she couldn’t escape with him standing in the doorway. A large potted tree caught her eye. Maybe she’d hide behind that until Casey moved and she could make a run for it.

  Their eyes met. She probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

  The tension Casey had carried in his shoulders since he’d first walked into the bar seemed to seep away. And then he smiled.

  It made her gasp. Seeing a smile spread across Casey Long’s otherwise stern and stoic face was like seeing a vibrant flower in the middle of the desert (and thinking it had bloomed just for you). It warmed every single inch of her body except for the fingers wrapped around the frozen margarita. Actually, they felt warm too. And she became even warmer—and a bit tingly—as Casey made a beeline for her.

  Why hadn’t she put on any lipstick? She looked down at her feet. Flip-flops! Although she’d have looked silly wearing anything else with her cutoff shorts and Hello Kitty T-shirt. What had she been thinking when she came down here like this? Her mother would have been mortified.

  It’s important to look our best. People judge.

  Boy, did they ever. Especially in small towns.

  “Tell me you weren’t about to dodge behind a potted plant,” Casey said with a grin.

  * * *

  Shit, she was cute. Would she deny that she’d been making a run for the plant? Or would she own it?

  “There goes my life as a super-secret agent,” she said with a shrug.

  She owned it.

  “You don’t have to hide from me, you know,” he said. It hurt that she wanted to, but he understood. It was awkward. So much time had passed…

  Yet, as he looked into her big brown eyes, it hardly felt like it. Hair in a ponytail, shorts, and a T-shirt; he recognized this girl. Hell, if she put on a cheerleading outfit and went out onto the field tonight, nobody would even question it.

  He swallowed. Thinking about Jess in a cheerleading outfit was making it difficult to form words into a sentence, and he had enough difficulty with that as it was.

  “I wasn’t hiding from you, per se. I just figured all the locals would be at the football game tonight and it would be safe to come down dressed like…” She looked down at her gorgeous tanned legs. “This.”

  She held out a foot and a flip-flop with ribbons tied all over it dangled from her toes.

  “That’s high fashion for Big Verde. And tonight’s an away game. Folks don’t necessarily want to drive all the way to Smithville to cheer the Giants on to their eighty-seventh straight loss.”

  “Fair weather fans,” Jessica said.

  She’d cheered her little heart out for those Giants once, all while stealing sideways glances at Casey while he stood along the fence with his ragtag group of rodeo pals. He remembered trying to act cool when his friends wanted to leave, pretending to care about the pathetic football game when all he really cared about was seeing Jessica do one of her famous split jumps.

  Those legs. Could she still do the splits?

  “I lost interest in football when a certain cheerleader moved away,” he said. “But I’m here tonight for a family celebration of Aunt Mavis. It’s in the hospitality suite.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry! Don’t you need to be getting back?”

  “She would have hated the fuss,” he said.

  Jessica nodded in agreement.

  Casey was missing something. He just knew it. But he didn’t have a clue as to what. “Want to go for a walk?” he blurted.

  He was desperate to not let her out of his sight. When he thought she’d left earlier, damn it, he was eighteen again. Eighteen and heartbroken. Ready to put out an APB to track her ass down.

  She wouldn’t stay forever. But right now, he could barely think beyond the current moment. And in the current moment, he needed to touch her. A strand of hair had conveniently escaped her ponytail, and he gently tucked it behind her ear.

  Jessica licked her bottom lip and trailed her eyes down the front of his dress shirt. She looked very much as if she was imagining what might be underneath it, and the odds of her finding out were increasing, since he suddenly felt warm. Every damn inch of him might as well be on fire, just from the heat of her eyes.

  He tried not to look as if he might be doing the same to her, but it was hard. He’d already noted all the things about her that were familiar, but he was dying to discover the ways in which she’d changed. And not just physically (although she did still look cute enough for a cheerleading outfit). The way her ey
es continued to roam his body indicated the years had given her confidence. And he liked the way it looked on her.

  “Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and holding out his hand. “How about that walk? You can keep your drink; we won’t leave the property.”

  Jessica nodded, as if she’d made her decision. Then she took the straw between her lips, and while never taking her eyes off his, she sucked down the rest of her margarita.

  “Hold on there. You’re going to get a—”

  She winced and shut her eyes. “Brain freeze,” she said. “I know.”

  With a satisfied sigh, she set her empty glass on a nearby table, and took his hand. When her fingers touched his, every hair on his body stood up, as if lightning were about to strike him dead.

  Chapter Seven

  Was she really holding Casey Long’s hand?

  She wanted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming. Or slap herself in order to wake up. Or maybe just slap herself because holy cow they were heading out the French doors toward the pool, where Hope and Carmen were swimming.

  Dang!

  “Pardon?”

  She’d said it out loud.

  Casey looked at her quizzically.

  Jessica could see Hope paddling around under the waterfall. She turned, forcing Casey to look away from the pool. Luckily, they were in the shadow of the corner of the building, where Hope and Carmen probably wouldn’t spot them.

  Being spotted would be disastrous. Not only would Carmen embarrass Jessica by making hubba-hubba eyes and giving thumbs-ups and God only knows what else, but there was a good chance Hope would accost him with Hi! Are you my daddy?

  And wouldn’t that be a kicker?

  Plus, she just didn’t want anybody in Big Verde, not even Casey, knowing about Hope. There was no real threat from Wade anymore, but fear was strong glue for making habits stick.

  She steered Casey toward the fire pit. They could sit on one of the outdoor couches with their backs to the pool. In the moonlight, they’d just look like any two people.

  “I just meant wow. I hardly recognize the Château.”

  “It’s changed quite a bit since you and I—” Casey paused. Cleared his throat. “Since the last time we were here.”

  The last time they were here they’d made love. Made plans. Promised to be together forever.

  “They’ve got a fancy German chef now,” Casey continued. “Rumor has it, he’s trying to buy the restaurant from the hotel.”

  “Frederick Mueller,” Jessica said.

  Casey raised an eyebrow. “Somebody’s been keeping up with the news in Big Verde.”

  “You realize I work for Carmen Foraccio, right?”

  Casey gave her a blank look.

  “You’ve never heard of Carmen?”

  “The name sounds a bit familiar. Is she famous?”

  “Do you watch the Food Channel?”

  “Is that like a TV show?”

  “Oh my God. Um, well, it’s a network that features shows about food. And Carmen’s show is at the top. She’s a celebrity chef. Have you heard of La Casa Bleu? Or Funky Fusions?”

  “JD and I ate at La Casa Bleu when we were roping in Vegas. Italian food.”

  “Well, it’s Italian and French. It’s a fusion place. There’s one in Houston too. It’s the original location.”

  “Oh really? Do you eat there often?”

  “I manage it,” Jessica said proudly.

  “Wow, Jess. That’s pretty amazing.” A huge smile lit up Casey’s face.

  “What are you so happy about?”

  “It’s just that, well, you said that’s what you wanted to do, right? Run a fancy restaurant like the Village Château? And look at you. You’re doing it. And a famous one, at that.”

  As a kid, Jessica had been practically obsessed with the Village Château restaurant. It represented high society to her—Big Verde style—and she’d longed to be the kind of person who ate there regularly.

  “They had pretty good spaghetti,” Casey added with a wink.

  “You got spaghetti?”

  “The most expensive spaghetti I’ve ever eaten in my life. Although I think it had a special French sauce on it, so maybe that was why. Is Carmen the chef?”

  “She used to be. And she still oversees the menu and all the recipes. Everything is made according to her specifications. But she doesn’t spend much time in the kitchen anymore. Her show takes up most of her time.”

  “Funky Fusions,” Casey said. “I think I’ve seen it. She goes around eating all kinds of crazy shit, right?”

  Jessica laughed. “That’s the show.”

  They arrived at the fire pit. From here, they could still hear occasional giggles and shrieks from Hope, but they were muffled by breezes and distance.

  Jessica sat and patted the seat next to her, hoping Casey would hurry up and join her. The lighting was dim—ground sconces and the glow of the fire—but she didn’t trust that someone couldn’t make them out if they looked really hard. And Carmen was nosy.

  “Somebody’s having fun over there,” Casey said with a grin, looking over his shoulder at the pool.

  Jessica grabbed his hand and yanked. “Sit.”

  It wasn’t very effective, as far as yanks went. Casey was over six feet of solid muscle, and he glanced down at her like she was a tiny kitten yanking his chain.

  “Hold your horses,” he said, and then he sat down next to her and stretched out his long legs, crossing his ankles and revealing some really nice cowboy boots. His slacks were gray, and there was no gun or badge on his belt. His shirt was white, and Jessica watched as his fingers nimbly loosened his tie.

  She swallowed as those same fingers then trailed down his shirt to settle on his thigh, which was hard and muscular and straining the fabric of his slacks. When she succeeded in wrenching her eyes away from that lovely vision and directing them back to Casey’s face, she was met by a very sexy smirk.

  Followed by a wink.

  “That margarita getting to you?”

  Maybe just a little. The brain freeze had melted into a warm glow.

  “How did you end up in law enforcement?”

  “Surprised?”

  “Understatement.”

  Casey laughed. “Well, believe it, or not, I got in some trouble after the bull riding didn’t work out. Nothing awful. Just fighting and drinking. I think I was embarrassing the family.”

  She’d worried that Casey might fall back into his wild ways after she’d left. And it seems he had.

  “And?”

  Casey stared at the fire, appearing relaxed. “Aunt Mavis made me volunteer my time to help some truly troubled youth. Kids with real problems, way bigger than mine. And I discovered I was pretty good at it. So, I decided to get a degree in criminal justice.”

  A warm swell of pride spread throughout her chest. “I knew you could do it, Casey,” she whispered.

  He looked up, the reflection of the flames dancing in his blue eyes. “It was hard,” he said. “Without you.”

  Then why didn’t he come after her? Why did he ignore her letters?

  The words were on the tip of her tongue. Just ask him.

  She took a deep breath, but Casey started talking again. “I was a cop in San Antonio for a couple of years. I didn’t much care for city life, so I came home. Decided to run for sheriff.”

  “Family tradition,” Jessica said, hoping the bitterness didn’t show in her voice.

  “I know what Wade did, Jess.”

  Jessica’s head snapped up. Her pulse pounded in her head. “You do?”

  “He’s a crook. Hell, he fixed my record. He threw his weight around. God only knows what all shit he was…is…wrapped up in. Aunt Mavis was ashamed of him. She actually told me so once.”

  So, he didn’t know. Not specifically.

  He uncrossed his legs and turned to face her. They were suddenly mighty close. She could smell his aftershave. His eyes locked on hers, and she clenched the cushion of the seat to
keep from falling right into those baby blues.

  Casey didn’t blink. “I’m not like Wade. This is my county. My town. My people. And I take care of them.”

  If she’d thought Casey Long the bad boy had turned her on, it was only because she’d never met Casey Long the good guy. She wanted to grab that stern face and kiss it senseless.

  “Do you remember what happened here?” she blurted.

  Casey furrowed his brow, as if she’d said something offensive. “How could I ever forget it, Jess?” Then his expression softened, and he gently touched her cheek with his thumb. “It was my first time.”

  The touch of his thumb on her cheek sent shivers all the way to her toes. “Oh, you’re sticking to that story?” she asked, feeling a little breathless.

  Casey smiled. “I am totally sticking to that story. Because it’s the truth. And I’m pretty sure you know it, based on my performance. I don’t think I made it to the eight-second buzzer.”

  Jessica laughed at the bull riding reference. But sincerity shone in Casey’s eyes. She’d been his first. And if he hadn’t been lying about that, was he telling the truth about everything else? Had he truly been in love with her?

  His eyes had darkened, and he leaned in even closer. She stared at his lips and brushed his chin with her fingers.

  “I’m better now,” he said. “I can go well past eight seconds.”

  “Had lots of practice?” Jessica asked with an embarrassingly shaky voice.

  “I wouldn’t say lots. But I know where all the important spots are.” The lips she couldn’t take her eyes off of curled up in an adorable smirk. “And I know just what to do to them.”

  She believed him. He was practically doing it with his eyes. And all of her important spots were responding appropriately. She squeezed her thighs together as Casey’s eyes settled on her lips.

  Was it the margarita making her feel this way? No. There wasn’t enough alcohol in it to lead to wherever this was going. The only thing leading her now was her heart.

  And her important spots. Which were pretty much on fire.