Betwixt Two Hearts (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  Casey leaned back against the headrest. “I’d love to visit the Alps sometime, maybe even learn to ski.”

  “Skiing is something most kids learn in Montevaro. I was on skis almost before I knew how to walk.”

  “Not so much in Texas.”

  “I’d imagine not.” He finished the last of his burrito and put his trash in the bag. “Ready?”

  Casey struggled to keep a straight face. “As long as you promise to back up.”

  That made him laugh. A real laugh unlike one she’d heard from him before. He’d chuckled or laughed lightly, but not like this. “Never fear. I’ve learned all sorts of defensive driving and how to escape from bad guys intent on running you off the road. I think I can handle getting us out of this.” Then he winked at her.

  She gave a half-shrug. “Okay. If you insist. I’ll trust you.”

  He moved the gear shift. “R is for reverse, right?”

  With a roll of her eyes, she nodded. “Yes, Mark. R is for reverse.”

  His lips twitched into a quirky half-smile. “Thanks for helping with that.”

  The SUV backed up as slowly as it had come in until he could turn them around. Casey glanced at her watch. They’d left Jonathan’s house in plenty of time, but they were starting to cut it close.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll be at the convention center in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  After he turned back onto a paved road, he took her hand. She kind of liked that.

  A lot.

  Probably a lot more than she should, given he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

  Maybe later today he would.

  “I don’t think you’ve said when you head home.”

  And there was the damper on everything.

  She sighed. “I’m supposed to leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Have to be at work on Monday?”

  “Yes and no. I have work to do, a lot of it, this week. Mostly for Rachel’s company, though I do a little bit for another friend. I don’t have to do it at home, but I’m not sure I brought everything with me that I need to stay longer.”

  “That’s too bad.” He sounded genuinely disappointed. “What’s the schedule look like today then? I’d guess you’ll be packing everything up?”

  “The show closes at five. I’ll start packing up some before that, as long as it’s not busy. I should be ready to load my van by six at the latest, but probably sooner.”

  “Good.”

  Good? “Why is that good?”

  “Because then I can make you dinner.” He squeezed her hand. “If you don’t mind me doing so at the apartment.”

  “Why would I mind? It’s not my apartment.”

  “No,” he answered slowly as a sign for the convention center came into view. “But it is kind of like your home for the next day or so. I would never presume you would want me, a man you’ve known less than twenty-four hours, to spend that much time at your place.”

  She went back to her question from earlier. Was this guy really for real? “I appreciate giving me the chance to decline, but it’s fine. Really. I’d enjoy it, especially since I don’t cook at all.”

  “You don’t?” He sounded genuinely perplexed.

  “Nope. I mean, I can. I can make simple stuff like spaghetti with sauce from a jar, but I hate it. Definitely don’t ask me to do something fancy.”

  He pulled in and parked, continuing to give her a puzzled look.

  “What?” She flipped the visor down and opened the mirror. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

  “No. It’s just that I was very specific in my profile that I wanted to be matched with someone who loved to cook. It’s something I always enjoyed when I had the time. Now that I have the time on a regular basis, I cook all the time. I wanted that to be something I could do with my wife when I have one.”

  Casey’s heart fell a bit with every word. She’d been clear on her profile that cooking was something to be tolerated at best, and she wasn’t capable of doing it.

  It sounded like this could end before it even got started.

  Before Mark could say anything else, Casey hopped out of the SUV.

  Great.

  He hadn’t meant to insult her or run her off, just express his confusion over how they’d been matched when something he said was very important didn’t line up with her profile.

  By the time he’d turned the vehicle off, grabbed their things, including her backpack, the extra coffee and both of their coffee cups, Casey was nearly to the door of the convention center.

  With the three containers, he couldn’t go as fast as he wanted. By the time he caught up with her, she was pulling tubs of product out from underneath the table.

  “Hey.”

  She didn’t look up. “Would you grab the gray tub under that other table?”

  “Casey, stop.” He set the coffees down and lowered the backpack to the ground.

  “I’ve got things I need to do before this place gets crazy in about half an hour.” She still didn’t look up as she turned to get the tub she’d asked him to grab.

  “Casey.”

  She plopped down onto the floor and bent one knee as she pulled the bucket toward her. “I need more of the cross stitches. The Easter morning ones with the Bible verse on them sold well yesterday. So did the bunnies and Easter eggs. I think there’s more in here.”

  So, she babbled when she was trying to avoid a conversation.

  “They’re not in that one.” He turned and grabbed a dark green bucket from under the table where he’d handled the money most of the day before. “They got moved.”

  After putting the lid back on the gray one and shoving it past the tablecloth, Casey turned, lifting the other bucket and moving it in front of her rather than facing him.

  Okay. She didn’t want to talk about it, but that didn’t mean he was going anywhere.

  He’d always known that if he met the right person things like cooking together wouldn’t matter, but since he could choose the characteristics, he wanted in a life partner, he’d picked someone who could cook. It was just odd that he’d been matched with someone who didn’t like to.

  That was all he’d meant.

  Mark had no intention of letting this potential relationship end over something like that.

  Rather than push her at the moment, he quietly got to work, helping to restock the rest of the booth before setting up the money box and tablet. She’d entrusted him with the password the day before.

  By the time the booth was ready to go, Casey had untensed a little bit but not completely.

  Maybe he should ask what she’d like him to make for dinner. But he didn’t. Did she have any food allergies? Was that information in her profile?

  The booth was ready, but she still didn’t talk to him. Instead, she fidgeted. Straightening this, tweaking that, even though it all looked fine.

  He sat in the chair behind the back table and pulled out his phone. The Betwixt app would let him look at her complete profile. Maybe he should look through it a little more closely.

  Scanning the information, he noticed some things he hadn’t the first time through. No known food allergies, but no cooking was also on there. He’d missed it when he’d looked before accepting the match.

  A few other potential red flags stood out. She wasn’t much for outdoor sports, but she did love to read. She liked walks in the park, but not hiking as much.

  He’d already taken the traveling differences into consideration.

  The relationship, if they were to have one, could work despite those things. It just took some shifting of expectations.

  Montevarian food. That’s what he’d make. He sent a text to Jonathan, making sure it was okay that they used the apartment kitchen and asking if it was stocked with utensils and such.

  Jonathan responded almost immediately. Mark then texted Brian and asked him to pick up the food so that Mark wouldn’t have to later. He’d follow Casey to the Langley-Cranston Est
ate. If she told him to shove off, he would, but he hoped she’d give them a chance.

  “You don’t have to stay.” She still didn’t look at him.

  “You’re talking to me? I thought we’d taken a vow of silence.” The needling might not be the right way to connect with her, but how would he know unless he tried.

  That earned him a glare and made him grin. At least she was looking at him.

  He stood and went around the table, leaning back against it as casually as he could manage. “I have no intention of going anywhere. I told you I’d give you a hand today, and I meant it.”

  She shrugged. “If you want to.”

  What he really wanted to do was give her that first kiss.

  Then spend the whole day with her and not a crowd of thousands, but that wasn’t going to happen. They had just a few minutes before the show opened.

  He picked up her cup of coffee. “Do you want this? Or do you want me to pitch it? It’s almost cold already, but I’ve got hot of my blend if you want it instead.”

  Casey reached for it but didn’t look at him.

  He held it out of reach. “You at least have to look at me.”

  Another glare as she moved closer.

  With his hand held up so it was still out of reach, he looked into her gorgeous blue eyes. “Hi.”

  “Yo.” Those eyes could flash fire and ice at the same time. “Can I have my coffee?”

  Mark leaned in slightly. The look on her face softened just a bit as her eyes darted from side to side.

  To see if anyone was watching?

  He didn’t much care.

  Leaning in slightly more, he gave her ample time to back up if she didn’t want what was about to happen.

  When she didn’t, he did what he’d been hoping to do before the day ended. He just hadn’t expected the opportunity so soon.

  He kissed her.

  For a split second, Casey wasn’t quite sure what was happening even though she’d guessed what he was thinking before he did it.

  Mark was kissing her.

  Before she could make a conscious choice to kiss him back, to do more than let her lips cling to his, it was over.

  She rocked back on her heels as he lowered her coffee cup.

  “Here you go.”

  Casey took it from him. “That wasn’t payment for my coffee.”

  “I know. That was a kiss between two people who’ve been wanting to do that for hours. At least I know I have. I thought you did, too.”

  She nodded, though it was almost grudgingly. Why was he leading her on? Why kiss her if there was no future for them? If they’d been matched on some kind of fluke?

  At some point, when they weren’t busy, she needed to find time to scan his profile and see what else they didn’t match on.

  The doors to the show opened, forcing Casey to turn her attention away from the maddeningly casual man leaning against her display table.

  With that grin.

  She was kind of falling for that grin, even if he was annoying her at the moment.

  Before customers reached them, Mrs. Bateman wandered by. “How’s Bruce doing this morning?”

  She hadn’t even checked on the stupid cat.

  “He’s staying with a friend of mine,” Mark offered. “The vet thought he was going to be just fine after his ordeal, and my friend’s little girl is over the moon. Her dad’s allergic so she doesn’t get to play with a cat very often.”

  He never said his friend’s name. He didn’t name drop the people he knew. That made sense. A man who would name drop wouldn’t be entrusted with the safekeeping of a future queen. She needed to ask him how he got into that. Was it the family business? Had his father guarded the Montevarian royal family?

  She’d looked them up briefly before he arrived to pick her up. There were pictures of the queen and her family, including the man from Serenity Landing and his daughter. Casey wasn’t quite sure if Queen Adeline had adopted the girl or not. Maybe it wasn’t legal since she was queen, but the two clearly adored each other.

  There had been two pictures of the extended family, including her parents, brother, sister, and their families. In one, they looked as formal and intimidating as you’d expect a royal family to be.

  In the other, taken at a country home of some kind, they looked like the family next door, albeit with a castle behind them.

  This was who Mark had spent years protecting, still protected, though from a distance.

  Mrs. Bateman brought her back to the present. “We’ll miss having Bruce around today. Be sure to let me know what the test results say.”

  “We will,” Mark answered for the both of them. “I’m sure he’s fine, though.”

  “Good.”

  She still hadn’t called Rachel either. Normally, she texted her best friend regularly and certainly should have told her how sales went the day before. Rachel could see the app they used and get an idea of what sold and how much money had been brought in, but those numbers wouldn’t give the details.

  At least Casey had remembered to text Mrs. Christian to let her know she didn’t need to take care of Bruce.

  The first customers found their way to the booth and the day was off and running.

  For the first hour or so, things continued to be awkward with Mark, but they settled into a rhythm. The vet called and reassured them Bruce was fine. By the time Mark went to grab something for them to eat at lunchtime, she was even able to smile at him.

  He didn’t say anything else about dinner, even when they cleaned up and packed everything away. Having his help reloading the van was fantastic. It was so much easier than doing it herself.

  When he closed her door with a “see you later,” Casey resigned herself to having seen the last of him.

  But even as her phone directed her back to the Langley-Cranston Estate, he stayed right behind her. Maybe his house was nearby. It would make sense given who he worked for. The string of properties they’d driven past seemed to indicate a number of very wealthy families owned lake-front property along that road.

  But when she turned into the short tree-lined drive before the gate, he turned, too.

  Maybe he had another meeting with Jonathan.

  Then he parked next to her near the garage.

  She didn’t say anything as he followed her up the stairs and into the apartment. Was he still going to make dinner?

  “If you wanted to change into something more comfortable, go ahead,” he called over his shoulder as he went to the kitchen. “And I don’t mean anything by that except that you might want some sweats and a t-shirt.”

  “Thanks.” Casey went into the bedroom, filled with furniture far nicer than anything she’d ever dreamed of owning, plus an in-room Jacuzzi tub. She’d soaked in it after Mark left the night before, even though she’d nearly been asleep. Streaming her favorite episode of Friends on the bedroom television helped keep her awake.

  When she came out, something sizzled and smelled delicious. “What are you making?”

  “A traditional Montevarian dish. Your profile said no food allergies. Is that right?” He set a bottle of water on the bar in front of a barstool.

  “As far as I know, though I’m not too adventurous in my cuisine.” Probably something else they didn’t have in common. “What’s in this dish?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not telling you. Is there anything you absolutely cannot stand? That the smell or taste of makes you sick for no apparent reason?”

  “I’m not crazy about beef stroganoff. Apparently, I ate a bunch when I was like two then got sick later that night. I never ate it again until I was a teenager. I’ll eat it if I’m somewhere with no choice, but I don’t like it. It doesn’t make me sick, though. I just take small portions.”

  “Well, this isn’t beef stroganoff like at all, except it does have some pasta.” He stirred something on the stove then walked around the bar to stand next to her. “While that does its thing, there’s something else I’d like to do.”


  Casey suspected it was the same thing he’d done earlier in the day. She nodded but didn’t say anything.

  With one hand, he reached up and brushed her hair back off her face then leaned down. He kissed her softly once.

  Then again.

  Then a third time.

  Casey’s arms wound around his neck as she kissed him back, far more enthusiastically than she’d managed that morning.

  Coherent thought became difficult, but it occurred to her that maybe the cooking thing - and the other things she’d discovered while he grabbed lunch - wasn’t a deal breaker after all.

  Sunday morning found Mark feeling far more restless than he’d felt in a long time. He went to church, then worked out, but nothing could calm the restlessness he felt.

  Casey texted a couple of times when she stopped for gas or to grab a bite to eat, lamenting that Chick-fil-A wasn’t an option on Sunday. She’d told him she’d call when she made it home but not to expect one during the day. Apparently, she didn’t like to talk to people on the phone during long drives.

  When his phone rang about 2:30 in the afternoon, it surprised him.

  “Hey. Where are you?”

  “I don’t know.” Casey sounded frantic. “Some gas station in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma.”

  “What’s going on?” He looked around his room for his keys and wallet.

  “I don’t know. The check engine light came on, and there was a clunking noise. Fortunately, I was near a rest stop and stopped here.”

  “Is there a mechanic? An auto repair shop?” Fortunately, he’d showered after his workout. He could leave immediately, but it would be hours before he reached her.

  “I don’t think so, but I don’t know for sure. I just pulled into a parking space and called you. I know next to nothing about cars, just that this one has a lot of miles on it.”

  Mark stuck his wallet in his back pocket. “Okay. I’m going to leave in a couple of minutes. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “I don’t know where I am.” She sounded relieved knowing help was on the way, even if it would take hours.

  “Go into your maps app and send me the location. I’ll call you when I have a better idea of how long it’ll take me.”