“A mess,” he agreed, his mind racing. Profound relief swept over him, followed by fury. Didn’t she know he’d be worried sick about her?
After Roy hung up, Wyatt sat a minute staring out the windshield. He’d convinced Casey to stay with him instead of phoning Roy, who Wyatt insisted wouldn’t come out in a storm to tow her. If Roy told her he’d worked all night, she probably thought Wyatt had said that just to get her into bed. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Well, maybe subconsciously…Because if a genie appeared and granted him three wishes, there wasn’t a damn thing he’d change about last night.
He had to see Casey and work this out.
CHAPTER TEN
IT’D BEEN YEARS SINCE Wyatt had been to Round Rock. The town was bigger than he remembered. Casey’s home, when he finally found it, sat across from a quiet neighborhood park. His first thought, after he stopped behind her beater car, was that this would be a pleasant place to raise children. Which Casey would do. She had a life here that didn’t include him. As she should. She’d have friends and neighbors to watch out for her and the baby.
With the speed of light, Wyatt switched mental gears. He didn’t want to think about Casey having a baby. He only needed to make sure she was okay after last night—that he hadn’t hurt her.
He hated worrying, and hated feeling guilty even more. He’d had quite enough of both, thank you. He did feel guilty as hell for initiating what had happened between them last night. Wyatt wished he could blame his actions on alcohol or some other factor. Except he hadn’t touched a drop. Try as he might to make their night together insignificant, he couldn’t.
He knocked on her door, steeling himself for—well, anything.
CASEY HEARD A KNOCK at her door. She was in the middle of pulling on an oversize T-shirt over comfy sweats. She’d been home just long enough to get out of yesterday’s clothes. Smoothing down the soft cotton, she padded barefoot to the door and rose on tiptoes to look through the peephole. The last person she expected to see was Wyatt. Yet there he stood, hands jammed in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. Casey’s breath caught in her throat. Her first inclination was to duck and ignore his knock.
He pounded harder, and she knew she had to answer. Composing herself, she smoothed a hand over her jumpy stomach and cracked the door open a few inches. Keeping hold of the knob, she dredged up a weak smile.
Wyatt’s gaze slowly traveled from her bare toes and all the way up to her wary hazel eyes. “If you’d ever worn that to work, I would’ve guessed the truth immediately. And everything would’ve been different.”
Casey tossed her head. “I knew that in the cold light of day you’d change your mind about accepting my resignation. I understand…really.”
“May I come in?”
She still didn’t open the door any wider. “That’s not necessary. Greg can send anything you still owe me. I’ll explain to Brenda that I couldn’t continue the charade.”
“We need to discuss—” Wyatt broke off when Casey shivered. “It’s still cold as a well-digger’s knees out here, and your feet are bare. Let’s talk inside, where you’ll be warmer.”
“There’s nothing to say I…we crossed a line last night.”
“Are you okay? You’re really pale.”
Casey’s hand flew to her face, letting go of the door. Wyatt barged right in and shut it behind him.
She stood her ground, but crossed her arms and rubbed at the goose bumps.
So as not to crowd her, he stepped away, taking in the neat, minimally furnished room.
“Since you’re here, you may as well have a seat.” She gestured to the sofa. “I can make you a cup of coffee. I’m afraid I’ve only got instant.”
“No need to go to that trouble.” Wyatt sat gingerly on her hard, narrow sofa. He was immediately reminded of how they’d made love on his larger, comfier one. He stood and moved to a straight-backed chair instead.
“Look,” she said, running a hand through curls she hadn’t taken time to comb. “If you’re afraid I’ll hold last night over your head, or expect our relationship to…change in some way, don’t worry. I know what happened was a complete aberration.”
“An aberration?” Wyatt frowned, not liking the word at all.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you. That was a dumb thing to do. Irresponsible. I apologize.”
Wyatt’s jaw hardened. “I accept my share of the blame,” he said stiffly. “I’ll get straight to the reason I’m here. I regret that I could have hurt…ah…you. I’d never have forgiven myself.” He got up and paced around the small room. Stopping at the window, he turned, his tense jaw twitching nervously. “Casey, you know I think your photos are superb. But if you stay on we’ll need to adjust your schedule. And…it’s essential we go back to being studio owner and employee.”
Once the words were out, sounding too loud in the otherwise still room, Wyatt had trouble drawing that line in his mind. His gaze fell on Casey’s mouth as she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth, then let it go and soothed the spot with her tongue.
Raising his shoulders and letting them drop, he exclaimed, “Why did you take off without waking me up?” It was the last thing he’d intended to ask.
“I didn’t want you to act all formal and stiff like you are acting now. We can’t take back what we did, Wyatt,” she said, throwing up her hands. She couldn’t tell him the truth. She didn’t want things to change. But she’d instinctively known they would. “If that’s all you wanted to know, you can go now. We’ll both have until Monday to decide if we can work together.” Casey moved toward the door. “I believe I’m mature enough to put last night aside for the sake of business. Are you?”
“What? Of course. However, before you throw me out, there’s one other item that’s bugging me. Your car—and I use the term loosely. According to Roy Mitchell it’s a death trap.”
“You talked to Roy?”
“He phoned me. It seems he gave you advice you brushed off. He thought that, as your employer, I might be able to help. You know, give you an advance or something.”
“You already advanced me money for the tires.”
“And you paid that back. Roy told you he could get you a great deal on a safer, used car?”
She shrugged. “He mentioned he’d overhauled a Toyota for a guy who buys and sells cars on a small scale.”
“If Roy can find you something with air bags, that’d be a good start. I drove that highway today, Casey. With big trucks passing me every few minutes, and the pavement slick with rain. You can’t keep driving that road in an unsafe car. It’s too risky. Find some shoes and get your coat. Maybe he’ll take your car in trade. Let’s see what kind of deal we can wangle.”
“Wyatt, I appreciate your coming all this way, and your concern. But I…can’t take on extra debt. Even if I work up to my due date, my doctor suggests taking six weeks off after the birth. That’s supposing I can find infant child care.” Casey curled her hands into fists. “Thank you, but no. I can maybe swing having Roy tune up my Honda next month, but no more than that.”
“What if I make it a condition of continuing to work with me?”
“I’d say that’s sneaky,” she retorted.
He shoved his fingertips in his back pockets and continued to stare her down.
Casey broke eye contact first. “I want to keep my job. The doctor says I’m fit as a fiddle. This isn’t fair, Wyatt.”
“Probably not. What if I make a deal with Roy? I’m sure Greg could write off the expense of a company car for you to drive. Would you agree to that? I can’t bear worrying about you driving all over hell’s half acre in that ancient Honda. Especially now that Roy’s told me what kind of shape it’s really in.”
Feeling tears prickle her eyes, Casey had to turn away. It had been a long time since she’d felt so cared for. Her throat closed up again. “Saying thank-you doesn’t seem enough.”
“It’s just good business sense. You’ve brought in the lion’s share o
f my profits since you started. Let’s go visit Roy.” Wyatt refused to even consider that there might be more motivating his offer than merely business.
Casey capitulated because it was the sensible thing to do. They drove straight to Mitchell’s Garage, speaking only when necessary.
At the garage, Roy explained that he knew a man who wanted to sell his Toyota, and gave Wyatt the price.
“That’s reasonable,” Wyatt said. “Will you take half down and carry a contract on the remainder?”
“I’ll vouch for you.” Roy made a call and within ten minutes a man drove up in a silver Toyota. Casey peered inside. The upholstery wasn’t ripped, and the AC and windshield wipers worked, which was more than she could say for her Honda. Wyatt checked under the hood, then went with Casey while she test-drove the car. Fitting, as he was the one paying for it.
“It has a tilt wheel.” Roy showed Casey the feature while Wyatt looked over the outside of the car. “That’ll come in handy when, you know, you expand,” he muttered, gesturing to her now undisguised stomach.
“I have three months to go. I suppose I could grow a lot larger.”
Wyatt heard the exchange and sent Roy a seriously irritated glance. He didn’t want to be reminded of Casey’s condition. That way, maybe nothing would go wrong. She said she was fine, but Wyatt knew firsthand how quickly things could change.
“I’ll take it,” he said. “Can we get the paperwork sorted so Casey can drive it home? Roy, if you get anything for her Honda, you and I can settle up later.”
“I’ll give you five hundred bucks for it,” the man who’d brought the Toyota said. “Restoring cars and selling them through Roy is what I do.”
“Deal,” Wyatt answered, sticking out his hand.
Casey had begun to yawn before the transaction was complete. Wyatt noticed. “You look bushed. Why don’t I drive? We can stop for something to eat on the way. This transaction took longer than I expected and it’s way past lunchtime.”
“No. You spent too much money on me already, Wyatt. We’ll have to book a lot more appointments to make up for what this car cost you.”
“It wasn’t that expensive.” He held the door while she slid into the passenger seat. “I’m comfortable with the amount of work we’re doing now.” He headed for the highway, and added in afterthought, “I don’t want you to cram too many jobs in a day the way Angela used to. Life’s about more than money, Casey.”
“How do you know what’s too many? I mean, every wedding is different. One may take three hours to set up and shoot, and the next may take five because of a picky mother-of-the-bride, or hungover groomsmen who straggle in too late to have their pictures taken before the ceremony.”
“When you book a job don’t you get a sense of those factors? For instance, you knew to allow more time at Julie Adison’s wedding.”
“Right. I knew her family were high muckety-mucks.”
“Angela sometimes had two society weddings in a day. When we found out she was pregnant a year ago last May, I begged her not to add a single June wedding. She did anyway, because she wanted the money.” Wyatt gripped the steering wheel hard. “Promise me you won’t do too much.”
“The holidays are right around the corner. Studios get wild, what with everyone deciding at the last minute they want family pictures for Mom, Dad and Grandma Sue.”
“Why didn’t that sound like a promise to take it easy?”
“Word gets out if you turn people away, Wyatt. Anyway, I hate disappointing anyone. I know my limits. I won’t overdo. How’s that?”
“Good. Great! There’s not a lot of demand for my kind of photography in winter. I’m available to spell you or team up if need be.”
“Are you saying you’ll do pictures of little kiddies with Santa’s reindeer?” Casey teased.
“Very funny. I did do that one year for a church. A very moth-eaten reindeer. And don’t laugh. Maybe he was a farmer’s mule that someone strapped deer horns to.”
Casey grinned. Wyatt seemed less tense as they drove, and she loved watching him smile. Loved the dimple that popped out in one cheek.
But then he pulled up in front of her house. He jumped out, and Casey felt the awkwardness descend again. Wyatt locked the Toyota, then dropped the keys in her hand as if it would hurt him to touch her. He climbed into his SUV and left with barely a nod goodbye.
Casey felt suddenly bereft. Darn, he was a hard man to read. When Wyatt let down his guard, Casey saw the fun-loving guy he must have been before Angela died, and was drawn to him. She was terribly afraid she could love Wyatt Keene for a lifetime. But only if her love was returned. Never again would she settle for less.
THE WEEK BEFORE THANKSGIVING was booked solid with family portraits. Most clients came to the studio. On Wednesday, Wyatt arrived shortly after noon and found Casey wrestling a phony fireplace out of the storage room. “Hey, let me get that,” he said. “You shouldn’t be lifting anything that heavy.”
She blew an errant curl out of her eyes. “I wasn’t lifting, I was scooting.” She noticed Wyatt staring at her. “Do I have tinsel in my hair? I just finished using the fake Christmas tree prop for the Torres family,” she explained. “By the way, Kim left you an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner. I put it on your desk. A cream-colored envelope with a gold seal. Super ritzy.”
“That’s Kim. Very old school.” He laughed and tucked the stubborn curl behind Casey’s ear. “This is the longest I’ve seen you wear your hair. I like it.”
“Uh, thanks.” Casey fluffed the back self-consciously. “I haven’t had time to go for a cut. This morning, nurses at the clinic said they like it, too. I wore it pretty long when I was young. Maybe I’ll be able to braid it by the time the baby comes.”
Wyatt glanced at her stomach, although he’d deliberately avoiding doing so these past three weeks. If he didn’t look, he could pretend she wasn’t facing any threat. “You were at the clinic today? Is everything all right?”
“Routine visit. I go every other week now. I got scolded for gaining five extra pounds.” She made a face. “The P.A. says, small as I am, I really need to watch my calories. He said it’s too easy to overeat during the holidays.”
“P.A.? Why aren’t you seeing a doctor?”
“I do sometimes. That’s how the clinic can afford to be free—one doctor oversees several P.As.”
“Well, they’re wrong. You aren’t overweight in the least.”
“It’s all going right here. For my height, I’m a porker,” she lamented. Then laughed and crossed her eyes because Wyatt looked so serious.
Expression unchanged, he slowly wrapped his arms around her. The move brought her tight against his front. “Don’t make fun of being pregnant and healthy,” he said fiercely. Suddenly, he broke off. “I felt your baby kick.”
Embarrassed, Casey tried to pull away, but Wyatt held her fast. “I think you’re going to have a star punter,” he said.
“I’m still hoping for a girl,” she reminded him.
“Okay. Maybe she’ll be a gymnast.”
“Good thing you didn’t say cheerleader. That would be so Texan. All the guys who came into the brewpub bragged about their sons playing football. They were just as proud of their daughters making the cheer squad. As if those are the only two pursuits that matter.”
Holding her stubborn chin lightly with his hands, Wyatt lowered his head and kissed her, drawing out the contact until they were both breathing hard.
It was a shock. Even telling herself it was wrong, Casey stood on her toes and clutched his shirt for balance. When they finally broke the kiss, Wyatt lifted his head and hauled in a deep, unsteady breath.
Casey fell back on her heels, closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his chest. She could hear the heavy thud of his heart, or maybe it was hers.
Oh, man, she wished he’d say something. But he didn’t.
Finally, she cleared her throat. “Any minute now the Masons are going to walk in. They wanted to get a jump on Chris
tmas photos, but Mrs. Mason didn’t want the usual shot beside a decorated tree. That’s why I went to get the fake fireplace. Why did you kiss me?” she blurted, tearing herself out of Wyatt’s loose hold.
He lifted one shaky hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “Danged if I know. I broke my own rule about staying professional.”
“It’s okay. No harm done,” Casey asserted firmly, although it cost her. “I shouldn’t have griped about my weight. It was just an—”
Wyatt broke in. “If you say an aberration, I’ll…kiss you again. To prove it’s not. Dammit, you looked kissable, okay?”
“Okay, sheesh.” She held up a hand. “Please move the fireplace into studio A.” She was rattled by his comment, but couldn’t count on its meaning more. If she did, she’d be disappointed when he once again kept her at arm’s length. He’d been so cool and aloof lately.
Wyatt carried the faux fireplace into the front studio for her.
Taking care not to brush against him, Casey got out the garland, frosted gold tree balls and gold tapers, and arranged them on the phony mantel.
Wyatt stood back and watched, and she could sense that he wanted to say more—or explain. Thankfully, the Mason family’s arrival saved them from an apology she didn’t want him to make. One she didn’t want to have to accept.
When she came into the back room after she’d finished the sitting, Wyatt was in his leather chair, tapping the invitation from Kim Torres against his lips. He seemed lost in thought.
Casey shoved her camera chip in the computer to upload. Wyatt turned to her. “Did Kim mention that you’re included in this dinner invitation?”
Totally blindsided, she knocked over a stack of order forms. “N-no. She didn’t mention it.” Casey didn’t want to tell him that Kim and Alec had said they’d run into him at the mall and had a conversation in which he’d apparently brought up her name several times. Alec had credited Casey with Wyatt’s happier demeanor, but she’d denied it, of course.
The Baby Album Page 16
