by Lori Foster
Unlike Damon, he hadn't yet made up his mind to do anything about it. He wanted a change, but instigating it would stir things up a lot.
"What about you, Emma? How much time do you have off work?" She hesitated so long, Casey's irritation resurfaced. "Is it such a big deal telling me one little thing about your life?"
She pushed her hair off her forehead, thoughtful for a moment before she smiled and shrugged. "I've already spilled my guts, so what difference does it make?"
Another cryptic comment that he couldn't understand. "It doesn't."
"All right." She made up her mind and nodded. "I suppose I can stay as long as I like too. I have my own business. It's small, but I like it that way, and since I'm the boss, I don't have to answer to anyone. But, unlike Damon, I can't afford to stay off indefinitely. How long I stay depends on how my father does, but I'm thinking that if I want to have a business to go back to, I shouldn't stay more than a few weeks."
Her obvious enthusiasm added to his curiosity, and he asked, "What kind of business is it?"
She chewed on her smile, then rolled her eyes. "I'm a massage therapist."
"A...?"
"Yeah, a massage therapist. And I'm good." She went on in a rush, as if to convince him. "My shop is called The Soothing Touch and I've got a really dedicated clientele. When I told them all I'd be gone for a while, they wished me well and told me they'd be waiting for me when I got back."
Casey stared. Not a single intelligent comment came to mind.
At his continued silence, Emma's smile faded and she gave him a defiant look. "I started by working in the Tremont Hotel fitness center, then branched out on my own. Now I work from my own shop throughout the week, but I also do house or office calls over the weekend and in the evening. And once a month I teach sensual-massage classes to couples."
The images that leaped to Casey's mind left him numb: Emma rubbing oil over a man's naked back, his thighs. Emma visiting some corporate asshole in his office. Emma enjoying her damn job.
Doing his best to keep the cynicism out of his tone, Casey repeated, "Office calls, huh?"
She nodded. "A lot of executives have high-stress jobs. They'll pay big bucks to have me come to the office and relax them during their lunch hour or before a big meeting."
He absolutely hated the way she put that.
"I have portable equipment that I use. It's not the same as coming to the shop, but I carry special music and oils with me. Sometimes, if it's allowed in the offices, I'll light candles too."
"Candles?"
"Mmm." She looked displeased with his continued, short questions. "You surround the client with soothing ambience. Incense or scented candles, soft music, low lights. I can make a body go boneless in a one-hour session."
Casey's eyebrows pulled down in a suspicious frown. "I just bet you can."
She frowned right back. "You can stop right there, Casey Hudson. I know assumptions run wild and believe me, I've heard every stupid joke there is, so don't bother. Massage therapist is not a euphemism for call girl, you know. I'm not ashamed of what I do. In fact, I'm proud that I do it so well."
This new facet to Emma's personality fascinated Casey. He liked the way she stood up to him, how she defended herself. And because he knew he had jumped to some hasty conclusions, he relaxed enough to tease. "And here I was going to ask what you charge."
Her nose lifted. "Thirty-five an hour at my shop, fifty if it's a house or office call."
Casey considered her, and then had to ask, "I bet most of your clients are men, right?"
"What do you want to bet?"
Keeping the grin off his face wasn't easy. "A kiss?"
"Doesn't matter because you lose. Most are women in their mid-forties, early fifties."
"Really?" That relieved him, until she continued. "But like I said, some are execs – male and female – with seventy-hour-a-week jobs. And some are athletes with sports injuries that still bother them."
"Athletes?"
"I treated one of the Chicago Cubs for a while early in the season."
New jealousy flared. "What the hell for?"
"He was in a slump and so every time he went to bat, he got tense." She spoke candidly and knowledgeably, using her hands to emphasize. "Massage can help loosen contracted, shortened muscles and at the same time, stimulate flaccid muscles."
Casey grunted at that. "With you touching him, I find it hard to believe there was anything flaccid on the guy." Sure as hell wasn't anything flaccid on him, and he was just thinking about her touch, not experiencing it. But he would. Oh yeah, he most definitely would.
Rather than get angry, she got exasperated. "Now you're just being nasty."
"I want you," he reiterated, as if it explained everything. And to his mind, it did.
Her mouth fell open. "I can't believe how pushy you've gotten. You know, you're the only man ever to say such a thing to me."
Casey examined her face, from her sexy mouth and stubborn chin, up to her hair gently teased by the morning breeze. When he locked onto her dark bedroom eyes, she fidgeted in a way that had Casey's insides clenching. "Sorry, Em, but no way in hell can I believe that."
She smirked. "Hey, I've heard other, more crude come-ons. But not an outright statement like I want you."
Never in his life had Casey sat with a woman and had such a discussion. In the normal way of things, if he wanted to get intimate, he made a move and she either reciprocated or not. He didn't spell out his intent and give her a chance to rebuff him. This was unique, exhilarating – and so was Emma. "Well, I do. Want you, I mean. So why shouldn't I be honest about it?"
"Oh, by all means, be honest. Just know that it's not going anywhere."
He didn't like hearing that, and he sure wouldn't accept it, so he changed the subject. "When can I get a massage?"
Her eyes widened. "Never."
"Why not?"
"Because..." She got flustered, and a blush rose all the way to her eyebrows. "I just know you too well. I'd be uncomfortable."
With his eyes holding hers, his body warm with memories, he said, "You've touched me before, Em. Plenty of times, in fact."
"That was a long time ago."
"You don't like touching anymore?"
She groaned and covered her face. "It's not that." So she did like touching? Anyone, or him specifically? It made Casey nuts wondering what she'd done and who she'd been with...and how much she might have enjoyed it. "Then what, Em?"
She dropped her hands. Her gaze landed first on his face, then dipped to his chest, shoulders. She looked away to the parking lot. "I'll, um, give it some thought, okay? That's all I'll promise for now."
"Yeah, you do that." In the meantime, Casey knew damn good and well that he'd think of little else.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE IDEA OF GETTING her hands on Casey's bare flesh left Emma jittery. She'd given too many massages to count, and she'd always been friendly, talkative, but detached. She could never be detached with Casey.
She decided it was past time to go. Standing, she slipped her feet back into her shoes and avoided his astute gaze. "The coffee's gone and I've got a full day ahead. I should get on my way."
Casey stood with her and to her extreme relief, he dropped the topic of a massage. "What's on the agenda?"
"I have to get the car fixed first, then I want to take Damon into town so he can explore while I make the drive to the hospital." Both Casey and B.B. fell into step behind her when she started back toward the room.
"Several questions come to mind."
The day was already warming, and Emma knew that by ten o'clock, it would be sticky with humidity and heat. "Yeah? Like?"
"How're you going to get your car fixed when you're here, the car is on the road, and the garage is in town?"
"I figured I'd call a tow truck." She stopped right outside her door. She didn't want Casey in her room again. "I can do the work myself, but it's not easy without my tools."
"No kidding? You r
eally know how to work on cars?"
Her feminist core insulted, Emma glared at him. "Do you know how to change a water pump?"
"Sure. But that's because I helped Gabe work on our cars and trucks often enough. I learned, but I wouldn't say it's something I'd choose to do."
Casey's uncle, Gabe Kasper, was known as a handy-man extraordinaire. He could build, repair or remodel just about anything. It made sense that Casey would have learned alongside him. "I helped Damon and his father work on cars, and they helped me with my Mustang. I like it. Besides, I've done all the restoration myself, so I don't trust many other people to touch it."
The smile he gave her looked almost...proud. Emma shook her head to clear it, refusing to disillusion herself.
"You baby your car."
Emma's chin lifted. "She's a seventy Boss in cherry condition. I rebuilt the 429 engine. Front and rear took me four years. After all that, of course I baby her."
"Damn." Casey laughed, but his expression was warm, amused. "Massage therapist, mechanic and beautiful to boot. A woman to steal a man's heart." He touched her nose with a dose of playfulness. "It was so dark, I didn't see your car that well last night, so I didn't notice..." He stopped, touched her cheek and sighed. "Okay, truth is, it wasn't your car that held my attention."
Emma had no idea what to say to that, so she just watched him and waited.
"Of course, now that I know it's a classic Boss, I can understand why you'd want to oversee the work. One problem, though."
"What?"
"It's the weekend and the garage won't open till Monday."
Eyes closed, Emma dropped back against the door. "Damn. I forgot about that."
"Around here, almost all the trade businesses still close on the weekends. Only the grocery stores and restaurants stay open. Buckhorn never changes, Emma. No one really wants it to."
"I told Damon as much when we drove in." Now what could she do? Wait another day to see her father? She might not have any choice.
"Can I offer a solution?"
Emma opened one eye. "What?"
"I'll give Gabe a call. He's got a tow truck and he can replace your water pump – I promise you can trust him. He'll treat your car with kid gloves. While he does that, I'll drive you to the hospital."
"No."
Casey crowded closer, blocking the sun with his wide hard shoulders, lowering his head closer to hers. "Why not?"
With him invading her space, Emma found it difficult to speak, but more difficult to move away. "I might be at the hospital for a while. I don't want you to have to wait."
"I've nothing else planned for the day."
She widened her eyes in disbelief. "It's Saturday and you have nothing to do?" No dates with beautiful women?
"Nothing important."
She found that very hard to swallow, knowing firsthand of Casey's popularity. "Then you should just relax, not spend your time hanging out in a hospital."
"You can pay me back by going boating with me. Do you still remember how to ski?"
Longing swelled up inside her. She missed being on the lake, missed the peacefulness of the water, the joy of skiing, the fresh air and sunshine. As a kid, she'd often escaped to the water, staying there late until it was safe to go home again. Sometimes Casey would hang out with her and they'd listen to the frogs croaking and the splash of gentle waves on the shore.
She'd also met plenty of other boys on the lake, and none of them had been interested in the frogs. In those days, sex in a quiet cove had been as much of an escape for Emma as anything else. "I haven't skied since I left here."
"No kidding? The Devaughns weren't much for water?"
"It's not that. I was just...busy."
Casey looked very unconvinced. "It's like riding a bike – you never forget how. And I bet B.B. will love being in the boat too. I haven't met a dog yet who doesn't."
"What about Damon?"
Casey lowered his lashes, hiding his expression. "I thought he wanted to explore the town a little."
"He might, but I'm not going to abandon him on his first day in town."
Rubbing the back of his neck, Casey muttered, "So he'll come along—" he narrowed his eyes at her "—if you insist."
It was so tempting to give in to him, on all counts. She had missed the exhilaration of boating, the wind in her hair, the sun on her face. And accepting Casey's assistance would save her from the hassle of finding another ride to the hospital. "Gabe doesn't mind working on a Saturday?"
"He wouldn't schedule work, no. But this is different. He's always willing to help out. I doubt it'll take him that long."
"Why would he want to help me out?"
Casey's voice gentled in reproach. "You've forgotten how my family is if you have to ask that."
She gave a short laugh. "No one in her right mind would ever forget your family. I half wondered if Buckhorn would have sainted the bunch of them by now."
Casey's unselfconscious smile made him more handsome than ever. "We like to lend a helping hand. Most everyone in Buckhorn does."
Emma didn't reply to that. She remembered all too well how most of the locals felt about her. She'd been shunned at best, a pariah at worst. But his family had been wonderful.
"Let me be helpful, Em."
Oh, she could imagine that husky voice seducing any number of women. That is, if they needed to be seduced. She'd be willing to bet the women had been chasing Casey most diligently. "It'll take me a little time to get ready. I haven't even showered yet."
His gaze warmed, then moved over her with slow deliberation. "Take your time. While you do that, I'll come in and give Gabe a call. We can grab a bite to eat on the way to the hospital. How's that sound?"
B.B. scratched at the door, indicating he'd had enough of idle conversation. He wasn't much of a morning creature either. "All right." She opened the door and watched B.B. head straight for the bed. With one agile leap he hit the mattress, circled once, twice, then dropped with a doggy sigh, his nose tucked close to his tail.
As she entered, she realized just how small and crowded the room was. The second Casey stepped in and closed the door behind him, it became even smaller. Emma laced her fingers together. "Promise me that if Gabe has other plans, you won't push him. I'm sure I could figure something else out."
"Absolutely."
She wasn't sure if she believed him or not. Resigned, she went to the connecting door and tapped on it, then stuck her head inside. Damon was on his stomach, his face turned toward her, snoring. Ignoring Casey for the moment, she crept in and touched Damon's bare shoulder.
Immediately his eyes opened, but otherwise he didn't move. "Hey, doll," he said in a rumbling, still half-asleep voice.
"You awake enough to catch an explanation?"
"Depends." He stretched, then pushed up to his elbows. "Is Romeo gone?"
From his hovering position in the doorway, Casey said, "If you mean me, no."
Damon dropped his head forward. "Persistent, isn't he?"
Casey showed his teeth in a false smile. "Afraid so."
"All right. I'm awake." Damon pushed into a sitting position on the side of the bed and ran his hand through his hair. "What's up?"
"The garage is closed on weekends. Casey's uncle is a handyman and we're going to see if he'll fix the car while I go to the hospital."
"Wait." Damon held up a hand, got sidetracked by a huge yawn, then eyed her. "You're saying you'll let someone else touch your car?"
"I know Gabe, or at least his reputation with cars. He's good."
"Yeah, yeah. I remember the stories. All the holy men of Buckhorn—"
Emma felt like throttling him, especially when she heard Casey chuckle rather than take offense. Through her teeth, she said, "You can either sleep in—"
"Nope, I'm awake now."
"—join us—"
He laughed and spared a glance for Casey. "Does he get a vote on that one?"
"—or go exploring."
"So many options.
Let's see." He slapped his knees. "I choose C. That is, unless you want me to go to the hospital with you." His voice dropped and he caught her hand. "How do you feel about seeing your dad? You okay?"
Emma glanced at Casey and found him listening intently. Though her stomach was in knots at the idea of facing her father after so many years, she mustered a smile to relieve both men of worry. "I'll be fine, really."
"It's been a long time, doll."
"Exactly. Past time I visited."
Damon didn't look convinced, but he knew her well enough to let it go. "What about B.B.?"
"He'll be happy to sleep until I get back. Then I'm going to take him boating with me."
"Boating?"
Without turning to face Casey, Emma flapped a hand toward him. "He, uh, he has a boat."
"Of course he does."
Casey spoke up, his tone dry. "We have several boats, actually. A speedboat for skiing, a pontoon, couple of fishing boats. The biggest recreational draw for Buckhorn is the three-hundred-and-five-acre water reservoir.
"A man-made lake?"
"Exactly. Around here, everyone considers a boat as important as a car."
Emma cleared her throat and tried to sound enthusiastic. "I thought you might like to go along, Damon."
"Not I, thank you. I can already hear the awkward squeaking of that third wheel."
By his very silence, Casey agreed, but Emma rushed to convince him otherwise. "You wouldn't be a third wheel! And I'd love to show you the lake, Damon. It's beautiful and so peaceful. You could see some of the vacation homes built along there."
"I remember everything you've told me about it." He yawned again, stood, and scratched his belly. "How about we go check it out after the car is fixed and you've had a chance to visit and get reacquainted? Maybe in a day or two?"
"Are you sure?"
"Most positive." Damon strolled to his open suitcase resting on the dresser. He pulled out chinos, a black polo shirt and clean boxers. "I'm heading to the shower. I'll be ready in half an hour."
The second the bathroom door closed, Casey walked over to Emma and took her arm. "Why don't you go ahead and get ready too while I call Gabe? You don't want to miss the doctor at the hospital."
