“And you didn’t tell me?” She leaned in and pointed to herself. “I’m a cat person. I own a cat rescue. You didn’t think about including me in this investigation?”
“You’re right. I should have.” Casey rubbed his forehead and stared at the floor. He knew why he hadn’t included her. It instantly would have become complicated. Once again, his secrets made demands and he’d complied. He ran his fingers through his hair, his mind warring with his beliefs and his heart.
Michelle cleared her throat. “Okay, as long as you understand I need to know about it and I want to be involved.”
She took in another heavy breath and slumped in the chair, as though all her energy had been drained.
“I think it’s been difficult for both of us to reveal everything. We’re letting out private stuff piece at a time.” He studied her sensuous lips, the rise of her cheekbones, and wanted to take away all the missteps he’d made since they met.
Her lips lifted and she aimed her misty eyes at him. “I know I’m guilty of holding back. How many people do you know who have premonitions and can feel other people’s emotions? That’s some seriously flaky stuff. But you’ve never made me feel odd.”
Guilt traveled up and down his spine. The air in his lungs got stuck in his throat. You have no idea about my secrets. “See, we’re good for each other.”
She chuckled. It came out weak and breathless.
“You’re tired. Let’s get out of here.”
His brain made an abrupt shift as he slipped the envelope holding the notice into his pocket and drew her to her feet. As she gathered her belongings, Casey marveled at the change of things in just a few days. He’d been on his way to talk with her and the sisters about what he’d found out about Carter’s plans, but he’d never suspected it would go down this way, with Carter revealing himself so blatantly. Bad for Michelle’s emotions but good for him to witness and have more pieces to put together.
• • •
Michelle’s shakes settled down in Casey’s car on the ride to her house. There wasn’t much conversation. She didn’t have much to say, other than to let Casey know Sterling and Lacey were out of town on business. She just didn’t have much starch in her body and her mind had gone numb. Sunk into the car cushions with her thoughts shut down seemed like as good a place to be as any right now.
When they pulled up into her drive and she got out, the walk to her door felt stiff, her legs heavy. In the kitchen, she noted it was lunchtime, but her appetite lacked any enthusiasm for food.
“Here, let’s sit in the living room.” Casey guided her to the couch.
“I don’t feel like talking.” Michelle slumped into the couch and rested her head against the back.
Casey scratched his chin, eyeing her, but she couldn’t pick up any sense of his feelings. She was too closed down.
“I know you don’t feel like talking, or anything else, for that matter. But I think you have to.” He took a seat in the upholstered chair across the room. He propped his elbow on his knee, then rested his chin on his hand, his expression soft and at the same time firm.
Something in her rose to meet the solid feel of his presence. With her world swiftly falling away, he felt safe and of good substance. Blood warmed in her body. Her breaths opened up to fill her lungs.
“You didn’t need to bring me home and you certainly don’t need to stay the night with me.”
He nodded. “Yes, I do.”
She tapped her fingers on the arm of the couch. It would be so easy to go toward him. He’d been nothing but kind and gentle and protective since she’d first met him. But thinking of it sent her heart racing. And if he hurt her, what would it mean?
“No you don’t. I am fine.”
Casey threw up his hands. “I know you can take care of yourself, Michelle. I know you’re fine. But I’m not leaving you here alone, not when William Carter has declared his malicious intentions. I know he’s a bad son of bitch.”
She let out a deep sigh, and watched as the rigid carriage of his shoulders softened. His beautiful golden eyes, gentle and kind, pleaded with her to trust him. Fears predicted hurt and rejection and betrayal, making it impossible for her to get any valid premonitions, so screw premonitions. All she had was right now.
The understanding and love emanating from him softened the hard edges of fear and sorrow. Maybe it was time for her to come out of the darkness and live as she’d dreamed of before that dreadful night on the quad.
Tentatively, Michelle fingered a black dreadlock that fell between his eyes. He shifted his gaze to capture hers. His eyes glistened, the way they so often did, and he gently traced the outline of her lips.
She nuzzled his cheek, savoring the scent of him. It soothed her nerves. It drew her in, promising places of peace and security.
Her eyes returned to his, finding intense arousal in them. She dropped a delicate kiss to his cheek, another to his bottom lip. His taut muscles flexed against her and his breathing came faster—just as hers did.
“Michelle, are you sure?” He placed his question quietly at the outer edge of her ear, his breath whispering on her skin.
She responded by seeking his delicious lips and melting into a lingering kiss. When she pulled back about a millimeter, her lips still against his, she answered. “I haven’t been with a man since that day in the quad. But with you, in this moment, I’m very sure.”
He lifted her in his arms while she rested her head against his firm chest, and carried her to her bedroom and set her on the edge of her bed. Reverently, he tugged at her sweater, lifting it over her head, then removed her bra. Her insides tingled so vibrantly, she thought she might explode. He took her breasts, one at a time, into his hands, staring at them, caressing them. When she thought she couldn’t take it any longer, he kissed one nipple, then the other, driving her further into the stratosphere.
While she tore his shirt off, he moaned a heady, dusky groan. Michelle’s hand roved over his back, fingering the dimensions of his muscles, then bent to kiss his hard chest, while unzipping his pants.
He kicked off his remaining clothes, then tugged off her pants and underwear so swiftly he nearly knocked her over. She stretched out on the bed, making room for him next to her.
Lying beside him on the bed, Michelle’s protective walls dropped like they hadn’t in years. Pressed dark skin to pale skin with Casey, she closed her eyes and lived the moment. He dove for her mouth, all the while caressing her shoulders, her breasts, her arms. Her mouth danced with his, their tongues tangled. Her heart sang to the crazy beat of his against her chest.
When he trailed kisses over her breasts again, she grabbed his back, losing track of everything but Casey’s flesh. When he continued to drop kisses to her stomach, her thighs, then her moist center, she arched to him without holding back.
She pulled at him, coaxing him up, and pushed him on his back so she could pleasure him. Her mouth did to him things she didn’t know she knew. A moan escaped from his lips, and she thought she heard a low rumble in his chest. It sounded primal and uncensored, and something in her responded, wanting more of him, wanting all of him.
Directing steamy eyes at her, Casey pulled her face to his and placed a sensuous kiss to her lips, while he flipped her onto her back. “I love you, Michelle.” His voice came out gravelly and gruff. “I know I’m not supposed to but I do.”
Michelle stared up into his face with tear-blurred eyes. His tender words drifted to her and filled her heart with joy.
She had to have him, now. She whimpered, “Please.”
He paused for protection, but Michelle’s yearning for him intensified. “Casey.”
Instantly, Casey filled her longing, aching center. A gasp escaped her lips and she loved him right back with all of her body, all of her being. They rocked together, her heart beating with the pulse of life, as she let ecstasy wrap around her and sparkle through her. When she climaxed, he came with her, and she understood why people called out to God during these
moments of bliss.
Exhausted and euphoric, Michelle watched him move off her and snuggle up close.
Almost in synchrony, their breathing slowed as they relaxed side by side. She traced the lines of his muscles. His arms, his chest, while he shined glittering, adoring eyes at her.
She couldn’t help herself. Michelle’s laughter effervesced out of her, unbidden.
“Hey, what’s so funny?” Casey shoved her playfully.
“Nothing, actually. I’m just so happy.” She leaned toward him and placed one, soft kiss to his chest.
Casey kissed the top of her head and sighed. “Thank you. For sharing with me.”
“Sharing with you?”
He tweaked a lock of her hair. “Yes. You know what I mean.”
A soft smile came to her lips. She did know.
Chapter Seven
Michelle offered to make lunch, but Casey got up from her bed with a thrumming in his gut. He needed to square away her safety, then talk to Jackson.
He lingered as long as he could at her door as they lavished each other with kisses. He didn’t want to leave her. Being close to Michelle, tasting of her and expressing his feelings, lingered inside him in a very pleasant way. He stood close to her, close enough to enjoy the soothing blue of her eyes, and stroked her sweet lips.
“Do you really have to go?” Her sweet breath wafted over his skin and incited a riot of clearly inappropriate thoughts.
“I do.” He pulled her close, so close her heartbeat drummed intoxicating beats against his chest. More than wanting to be around her for the pleasure of it, he didn’t want her to be alone. She wasn’t safe. And she’d just shared with him her dark secret as well as herself. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she’d failed to return his spoken love for her. But what she’d done was a huge step and he didn’t want to leave her alone in that. But he had to pull everything together to make sure Carter would never bother Michelle again, and needed to do that now. “Promise you’ll stay inside. I’ll be back, but in the meantime, stay inside, please. Don’t leave for anything or anyone.”
She promised him she’d stay home and before he drove away he instructed Quinn to keep watch at her home during the rest of the day. As a contractor, Quinn could leave a jobsite whenever he chose and his workers would keep working, so Casey didn’t feel too guilty about giving him the protection duty for the day. Tonight would be something to deal with later.
Traffic on his way to his office slowed him enough to make his muscles tense. He was used to juggling multiple projects, but Michelle was no mere project. Her position in William Carter’s crosshairs put her at the top of his list of priorities. Trouble was, the threads of the Pretid case and Michelle’s problems with her home and Carter all twisted together. He had to push himself to his limits to get each element under the microscope before any more drug trial participants were hurt and Michelle came to real harm. Just thinking of all the harm already done to her by Carter and the Doboskies pushed his pulse higher.
But first he had to quiet his growling stomach. It’d been too many hours since his early breakfast. He needed to eat. He pulled into a parking space outside of a small coffee shop and rushed inside to grab a chicken sandwich with coffee. On the way out his eyes locked with what looked like a businessman—short haircut, trench coat, and underneath, a suit—sitting near the door. The look the man gave him made Casey’s gut clench. He breezed past and out the door, hoping his instincts were wrong.
A few steps to his car, Casey saw a reflection of the man in his car window. Annoyance creeping up his neck, he turned to face him. “Can I help you, sir?”
The man walked closer, stopping an arm’s length away. “Beautiful afternoon, isn’t?” The man glanced at the sky, then landed a penetrating gaze on Casey.
“Excuse me, I don’t know you, and I’ll have to beg off. I’m in a hurry.” Casey stepped away and headed to the driver’s side of his car, the man right behind him. “Look, I asked you if I could help you. I don’t want to discuss the weather. If you’ve got something to say, spill it or walk away.” His demand elicited a sweaty scent from the other man, but he didn’t move away.
“My name is Agent Doug Callahan. I do need to talk to you, Mr. Mitchell. It’s urgent.” With that declaration he opened his jacket just enough to reveal a badge attached to his belt. “Could you take your food across the street to that plaza? You can eat while I tell you what I want.” The man looked over his left shoulder, then his right, then back at Casey.
The man gave Casey an agitated, scratchy sense of ill ease, but it seemed he had no choice but to hear him out. What could the FBI possibly want with me?
He took a seat on a stone bench in the city plaza and bit into his sandwich. He never felt an awkward silence when conversations went nowhere, but if there were to be a time when the phrase would fit, this was it. Casey had downed some coffee and half of his sandwich before Callahan finally spoke.
“Mr. Mitchell, I believe you’ve put yourself right smack dab in the middle of a very sticky situation.”
Casey knitted his brow. “Sticky situation? I assume you’ve done your homework, Agent Callahan, and know I’m a PI. Sticky situations are common for my line of work. Get to the point.” He drew in deep breaths to quiet the unease filtering through his body, putting him on edge, like a cat preparing to pounce.
Callahan shrugged his shoulders and squinted. “A bottom line man, huh?”
Swallowing his last bit of sandwich, Casey just stared at the man. Do you have a point, man?
“You are in a particularly advantageous position to do your country a solid good deed.”
“Oh, not so much a sticky situation as a good position for you to use me, right?” As a lynx, Casey’s perspective often stood a good distance from what normal humans considered an opportunity.
The man shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette package. He drew out a lighter from the other pocket and lit up his cigarette. A pull in and blow out and Casey felt sick to his stomach. “Do you mind putting that out? I’m allergic to toxins.”
A frown deepened the lines on Callahan’s face, but he dropped it and rubbed it out with his foot. “Listen, you’re right. The request I’m making is right up your area of expertise. I need you to get in good with William Carter. The FBI has been investigating his various businesses for months, heck, probably years. There’s something big going on and we don’t know what it is. I need you to find out. Since you’ve already taken on a client who has grabbed Carter’s attention, you’re the man for the job.”
Casey lowered his head and stared at him with his best menacing look. “Carter is involved with lots of people. Why me? What is my expertise you’re referring to?”
Callahan leaned close, too close, considering the lingering stench of cigarette and fear on him. “You have a record, Mr. Mitchell. I know all about your skills set.”
A lump, large and hard, filled Casey’s throat. “You mean my cat burglar skills. My former penchant for jewels and other expensive things.”
Callahan smiled, showing an uneven row of stained teeth. “Other people’s jewels. You never did any time for those incidents of breaking and entering or thefts. But now is a good time to serve your country and help put a stop to Carter’s criminal activity.”
“Whatever it is, because you don’t know.” Why were his teeth grinding? This annoying man or the predicament he was proposing? “I think I’ll pass.”
Callahan squared him with a glare. “I’m not asking. But all I need from you right now is reconnaissance.”
“You mean you want me to be stealthy, break into William Carter’s company, and find out what’s going on that’s ‘really big.’ That about right?”
“Exactly.”
“Or what?”
“Excuse me?” Callahan coughed, a very heavy, very wet cough.
“What happens if I decline?” Casey crossed his arms over his chest, still holding his coffee.
“Why, I revisit that record.
”
“You can’t just lock me in jail. I did my probation.” This guy was really making his gut burn.
“The FBI can make you do whatever we want. Don’t you know that? Now, do the work, and report to me by calling this number.” He gave Casey a card with a name and number on it. “Then we’ll go from there.”
Casey didn’t like the never-ending sound of that. He shoved the card in a pocket, then headed across the street to his car.
Mid-way to his car, Callahan called to him. “Chilly out today.” He pulled his coat closed and waved to Casey.
“Yes, it’s turned cold, all right,” he muttered to himself, and pulled into the street.
He clocked off in his mind the things required for him to comply with Callahan. The idea of being coerced to help the FBI tasted bad in his mouth. It wasn’t that he was opposed to helping nail Carter, it was the principal of limiting his freedom of choice. He rolled his shoulders and contemplated the best way to handle this new situation with Jackson. Tell or not tell?
He pulled into his parking space at work and ambled inside to his office, still not knowing.
Casey printed the various documents he’d collected from Carter and laid them on his desk. Pretid. Carter. His own father. Expansion. Research. He stood above them, willing his mind to pull in all the unknown bits of information and build a complete picture. One he could judiciously act on, without causing harm with unexpected consequences.
“You look serious.” It was Jackson, standing in the doorway.
Casey didn’t bother to cover up the information on his desk. A heavy sense of sorrow slowed his movements, as though he were walking in water over his head. He shot a glance at Jackson, wishing he didn’t have to deliver the news. Jackson had already suffered too much hurt by his father.
“Come on in.” Casey beckoned him and pointed to a chair, as he closed the door.
Secrets Page 9
