The Buckhorn Legacy

by Lori Foster

  Casey stood silent for only a minute. “Why don’t we sit in the car? The air is pretty damp tonight.”

  Being that she was already far too aware of him, she didn’t consider that a good idea. But the dog had heard him and, not wanting to be left out, quickly went through the open driver’s door and performed an agile leap into the backseat.

  Emma gave a mental shrug and scooted inside, leaving Casey to go to the passenger side. The consummate gentleman, he closed her door first before walking around the hood of the car. When he slid into his seat, she had only a moment to appreciate the sharp angles and planes of his face fully lit by the interior light. He closed his door too, and the light clicked off with a sort of symbolic finality that made her senses come alive.

  Casey twisted sideways in his seat and spoke in a low vibrating murmur. “Better turn off the headlights, Em, or you’ll have a dead battery to go with the busted water pump.”

  Though Emma knew he was right, she hated to be in utter darkness with him. Her awareness of him as a man defied reason.

  He hadn’t touched her, but God, she felt as if he had. All over.

  “There’s a flashlight in the glove box.”

  Casey opened the small door, moved a few papers aside and pulled out the black-handled utility light. He didn’t hand it to her, didn’t turn it on, but instead held it in his lap. She turned off the headlights and inky blackness settled in around them. Emma wondered if he could hear the wild pounding of her heart.

  Her reactions irritated her as much as they distressed her. No other man had ever affected her this way. She’d had plenty of relationships since she’d grown up, and she’d assumed her tepid reactions had been mostly due to maturing, to wising up, to learning what was best for her. She’d accepted that sex was pleasurable but not vital. It eased an ache, provided comfort, added to the closeness, and nothing more.

  Yet, sitting in a dark car next to Casey Hudson, she felt the biting greed of lust in a way that hadn’t touched her since…since the last time she’d been this near him.

  “So what have you been doing with yourself?” he asked, and Emma started in surprise.

  “What?”

  “It’s been a long time.” His voice held the same easy cadence she remembered from long ago, but there was an edge to it now. An edge to him. “You disappeared without a trace, so I’m just wondering what you’ve been up to.”

  Emma didn’t want to get into this now. He wouldn’t understand and she wasn’t up to explaining. In truth, it wasn’t any of his business what she did or had done while she’d been away from Buckhorn. But telling him so would have been too ballsy, even for her, and would have made her sound defensive.

  Keeping her answer vague, she shrugged. “Working, like most people I guess.”

  She braced herself for the questions that would follow, and wondered at the hesitation she felt in explaining her job to him. Damn it, she loved her job and was proud of herself for doing it so well.

  But Casey took her off guard by skipping her occupation and going straight to a more difficult topic.

  “You and Damon involved?”

  Anger flashed through Emma, pushing some of the sexual awareness aside. Regardless of their pasts, she didn’t deserve an inquisition.

  “Are you and Kristin?” Her voice sounded sharper than she’d intended, but Casey just laughed.

  “No.” His white teeth gleamed in the darkness. “As I said, she’s a co-worker, a friend. No more than that.”

  Emma shook her head. Men could be so dense. “So you say. My guess is that she wants to be considerably more.”

  Casey touched her cheek, a casual gesture that felt hotly intimate and made her breath catch. “Yeah, well, I can be stubborn when I want to be.”

  She almost replied I remember, but caught herself in time. His honesty provoked her own. “Damon and I are friends.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She didn’t care if he believed her or not. She didn’t. She turned away to stare out the window, letting Casey know without words that he could think what he wanted.

  “If you were homely,” Casey teased, “then I could maybe believe it. But Em?” He waited just long enough to make her antsy. “You’re far from homely.”

  She tried to ignore him. The field to her left sounded with a thousand insects: the buzz of mosquitoes, the singing of crickets. Like stars in the sky, fireflies twinkled on and off.

  She hadn’t forgotten that Buckhorn was beautiful in the summer, but somehow the clarity of it had been blunted. The colors, the smells, the texture of the air and the lush grass and the velvet sky…

  Casey stroked one finger over her cheek, down to her throat, then her shoulder. “Hell, if anything, you’re more attractive than ever, and you were plenty attractive at seventeen.”

  Her heart punched painfully against her rib cage. How had the conversation gotten out of hand so quickly? Her laugh sounded more believable this time. “I’m guessing you must have lowered your standards.”

  Casey stared at her, not comprehending.

  Emma rolled her eyes. “I’ve been in the car all day, Case. I’m dressed in what can only be called my comfortable clothes—and that’s if I’m being generous. No makeup, my hair’s windblown…”

  “You look sexy as hell to me.”

  The way he growled that pronouncement robbed Emma of clear thought. She searched her brain for something to say, some way to derail him. “How long will it take Damon to get back, do you think?”

  Casey didn’t take the hint. He didn’t stop touching her either. He smoothed her hair behind her ear and curled his fingers around her head. “Men only pretend to be friends with women to get one thing.”

  Goaded, Emma shifted around to face him. His hand dropped, but his gaze, glittering in the darkness, remained steady.

  Even the gearshift between them didn’t hinder Casey’s movements. He got so close that Emma inhaled the warmth of his masculine smell on every breath.

  “Is that right?” Her voice shook, her hands trembled. “Then I guess we’re enemies, because there’s never been a single thing you wanted from me.”

  Beneath the fall of her hair, Casey’s hand curved around her neck in a gentle restraint that felt far too unbreakable. Trying to be inconspicuous, she pressed into the car door. It didn’t help.

  With near-tactile intensity, his gaze stroked her face, then rested on her mouth.

  “True.” There was a heavy, thrumming beat of silence, and Casey whispered, “Until now.”

  * * *

  KNOWING HE PUSHED HER, knowing it was unfair, Casey tried to pull back. But damn it, he wanted her. Seeing her again…it hit him like a ton of bricks, throwing him off balance, making him defensive and fractious and keenly alert. Emma had influenced his life when he hadn’t thought that possible. Forgetting her hadn’t been easy.

  In fact, he’d never managed it.

  Just the opposite.

  At twenty-seven, his solid position within his stepgrandfather’s company should have been enhanced with a wife on his arm and a couple of kids underfoot, just as he’d always intended. Instead, no woman had ever quite measured up.

  The bitch of it was, he had no idea what they needed to measure up to. He didn’t even know what he was looking for.

  Until moments ago, when he saw Emma standing there.

  As always, her eyes had been huge and soft, and all his senses had quickened with recognition. He hadn’t experienced th
at rush of pure, white-hot intensity since… No, he wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t give her credit she didn’t deserve. She’d run out on him and he wasn’t quite ready to forgive her for that. But he was more than ready to take what he’d often regretted missing so many years ago.

  Her small hands lifted to press against his chest, burning him, heightening the ache. “Casey…”

  The way she said his name was familiar. Did she want him to stop or, like him, was she anxious to feel the flash fire of their unique chemistry? Her appearance, her attitude, were different. But her natural sensuality hadn’t waned at all. Instead, it had aged and ripened and gotten better, richer. No woman had ever affected him like Emma did, and now, with no effort at all, she’d gotten him hot.

  She wasn’t a lonely, insecure child anymore.

  She wasn’t afraid, wasn’t mistreated.

  He had no reason to hold back, no reason to still feel protective. Damn it.

  Without thought, Casey let his fingers stroke the nape of her neck. Just as it always had, her softness drew him, the remembered texture of her skin, her hair and her scent… God, he loved her scent. Heady and warm, it mingled with the damp fog and the gentle evening breeze.

  He felt alive. He felt challenged.

  “Emma?”

  Her thick lashes lifted.

  “Are you married?”

  She shook her head, causing the silky weight of her hair to glide over his arm.

  “Engaged?”

  “No.” She pulled her head back a little and Casey kissed her throat, nuzzling her fragrant skin, breathing her in. A sound of near desperation slipped past her open lips. “Are you…?”

  “Hell no. There’s no one.” He didn’t want to talk about that though. “You feel good, Em. You smell even better.”

  “Casey.”

  If she kept saying his name like that, he’d lose it. “You know, since you and Damon aren’t involved…” If she had no commitments to anyone, then why not? It didn’t matter that he rushed things. They were both grown now, both adults, so Emma could damn well make a rational decision now, rather than one based on fear and insecurity.

  “Damon and I are friends.” A measure of steel laced her declaration.

  Had she misunderstood his suggestion?

  Casey drew back so he could see her face. Her heavy lashes half covered her eyes as she watched him warily. She remained guarded, but she didn’t push him away. He tried a different tack. “You’re staying at the Cross Roads tonight.”

  “Yes.”

  Adulthood had provided new dimension to her features. Her cheekbones were more noticeable, her mouth wider, fuller, her jaw firm. She was lovely—and he had to have her. “You’ll be sleeping alone?” Which would make it easy for him to join her.

  Her gaze flickered away, and his stomach knotted even before she spoke. “That’s none of your business, Casey.”

  Frustration unfurled in his guts, making his tone raw with sarcasm. “Sounds like a no to me.”

  Chin lifted, she faced him squarely and confirmed his suspicions. “No. I won’t sleep alone.”

  Very slowly, doing his best to rein in his seldom-seen temper, Casey released her and moved back to his own seat. The sexual turbulence remained, gnawing at him, testing him, but now other, darker emotions gripped him too. He didn’t want to study them too closely. “I see.”

  He could feel her turmoil. And he could taste her interest, damn her. It was there, shimmering between them. Yet, she’d be with Damon, her friend.

  Once long ago, Casey had been her friend. Probably her best friend, if not the only one. He’d told her then that he didn’t share. That much hadn’t changed. He wanted her, but on his terms.

  And that’s how he’d have her.

  Emma slowly straightened in her seat and stared straight ahead. “I seriously doubt that you see anything.”

  The dog stuck his head over the seat and whined. Emma shifted enough to pat him, then buried her face in his scruff. “It’s okay, B.B.”

  Casey sat in brooding silence for several moments, watching as she comforted the big dog. Slashes of moonlight silhouetted her body and the slow movements of her stroking hands through thick fur. She ignored him as if he didn’t exist, not once looking at him. It didn’t matter.

  Despite any protest Devaughn might make, Casey knew he’d eventually have her.

  By her own admission, she wasn’t married, wasn’t engaged, so no one, Damon included, had any real claim on her. That left Casey free to do as he pleased. And it would please him a hell of a lot to take care of unfinished business so he could get her out of his system and get on with his life. It felt as if he’d been on hold for eight years. Now, finally, he’d discover what he’d missed so many years ago. Finally, he’d appease the ache.

  Because he knew he’d lost ground by letting her see his anger, Casey changed his tack. “I got the money you sent.”

  Startled, she released the dog. “I’m sorry I took it in the first place. It was wrong.”

  “You know I’d have given it to you if you’d asked.” She nodded without recognizing the outright lie. Hell, if Emma had asked him for money, he’d have known her plans and rather than leave her alone that night, he’d have kept close to her. He’d have stayed with her and everything would have turned out different.

  He wouldn’t have lost her for so long.

  Remembering that night still made Casey tense. So many times over the years, he’d replayed it in his head, thinking of things he should have done, should have said. He’d given up on ever seeing her again.

  Now she’d returned, and he’d done nothing but paw her. He wanted to tell her that he’d missed her, that she’d left a void in his life. But, damn it, she’d walked out on him without a backward glance. It still pissed him off.

  “Where did you go when you left, Em?”

  More silence. She turned her head to stare out the window.

  Not bothering to hide his exasperation, Casey said, “C’mon, Emma. Hell, it’s been damn near a decade. Does it really matter if you tell me?” He couldn’t soften his tone, couldn’t soften his reaction to her. Emma had always had the ability to make him feel things he didn’t want to feel, to feel things he hadn’t felt since she’d left him.

  He could see her resistance, her reticence. She didn’t trust him, never really had, and that bothered him most of all. “You came to me once, Emma. Why can’t you talk to me now?”

  “People change over time, Casey.”

  “Me or you?”

  “In eight years? I’d say both.” Turning from the window, she looked at him and sighed. “I don’t even know you anymore.”

  In so many ways she knew him better than anyone ever had. But he was glad she didn’t realize it. “So where you went is a big secret, huh?” He rubbed his upper lip as he considered her. “Must be something scandalous, right? Let me think. Wait, I know. Did you become a spy?”

  She rolled her eyes, looking so much like the old teasing girl he used to know.

  “No? Well, let’s see. Did you join up with a circus or get sent to prison?”

  “No, no, and no.”

  “Then what?” Unable to help himself, he stretched out his arm and cupped her shoulder. Her nearness made it impossible for him not to touch her. The ancient, baggy sweatshirt she wore all but hid her breasts. But Casey knew their softness, their plump weight. How they felt in his palms.

  Oh, yeah, he remembered that too well.

 
; Emma lifted her face and met his gaze. “There’s no reason to rehash old news.”

  “It’s not old for me.” He recalled the many nights he’d lain awake worrying about her, imagining every awful scenario that could happen to a girl all alone. It had made him sick with fear—and blind with rage. “I offered you help, Emma, and rather than take it you left me a goddamn note that didn’t tell me a thing. You ran out on me. You stole money from me.” You ripped out my heart.

  She bit her lip, her face awash in guilt. “I’m sorry.”

  Damn it, he didn’t want her apology. He thought to take back the words, but instead he drew a deep breath and continued, hoping to cajole her, reassure her. “I worried about you, Emma, especially when I found out you didn’t have a relative in Ohio. I worried and I thought about you and wished like hell I’d done something different. I screwed up that night, and I know it.”

  Her eyes were wide and dark, filled with incredulity. “But…that’s nonsense.”

  “I don’t think so. You came to me, and I let you down.”

  “No.” She leaned forward and her cool fingers caressed his jaw. His muscles clenched with her first tentative touch. “Don’t ever think that, Casey. You did more than enough. You helped me more than anyone else ever could have.”

  “Right.”

  “Casey…” She hesitated, then she whispered, “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You always made me happy, even after I’d gone away.”

  Robbed of breath by her words, Casey closed his hand over hers and kept her palm flat against his jaw. It was such a simple touch, and it meant so much to him. “But I don’t deserve an accounting? Or do I have to go on wondering what happened to you?”

  She tugged her hand free and let it drop to the gearshift. Their gazes were locked together, neither of them able or willing to look away. The dog laid his head on the back of the seat between them, watching closely. He gave a whine of curiosity.