Chapter Eight
T he following day was just as consuming. Eva got an early start, hitting the library for more research, followed by a visit to the Marietta Historical Society. She returned to the trailer loaded down with yet more photocopies, as well as a number of books she’d bought on the history of the region.
She was absorbed in a gripping recounting of the town’s short-lived mining boom when a knock on the door drew her out of the 1800s and back to reality.
Her heart kicked out a couple of extra beats: Casey.
“It’s just me,” Sierra called, immediately killing Eva’s little fantasy.
Just as well . You’ve got enough on your plate, remember?
She unfolded her legs and groaned when her circulation came back to life as she hobbled to the door.
“Hey. Sorry I was so slow—I don’t think I’ve moved for a couple of hours and my legs have forgotten how to work.”
“Just doing a welfare check, since we haven’t seen or heard from you for a couple of days now,” Sierra said, her gaze assessing as she took in Eva’s rumpled appearance.
“I’ve been working. A week isn’t a lot of time to come up with all the stuff they want.” Eva stretched, then circled her shoulders. “But thanks for checking on me.”
“I think you should take a break. Come into town with me. The Whiskey Shots are playing, and we can be amused by all the women throwing themselves at Casey without a chance in hell. It’ll do you good to get out of this little tin can.”
Eva frowned at the mention of Casey beating off hordes of women. “I happen to be very fond of this tin can,” she said. “And even though it sounds fun, I think I should stick with this.”
Plus it would be easier to stick to her all-work, no-play promise to herself if she didn’t have to actually be in the same room as Casey. Much easier.
“There are reams of scientific studies that show productivity tapers off when exhaustion sets in. Give yourself some time out, let your hair down, and come back to it fresh tomorrow,” Sierra said.
She was very persuasive, her smile bright and beguiling, and Eva couldn’t help thinking about how good it would be to stop thinking for a few hours and get out among other people.
“You Carmodys need to rein in the charisma a little when you’re dealing with us mere mortals. We’re defenseless when you pull out the big guns,” Eva said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sierra said. Then she batted her eyelashes and widened her smile a fraction so it shifted from charming to dazzling.
“All right, all right. I’m on the mat already, no need to pummel me into mush,” Eva said.
“Great. You’ve got ten minutes to get ready before we leave.”
Eva looked down at her aged tank and floppy pajama shorts.
“I’m going to need at least fifteen.”
“Band starts at eight, and we want to grab a booth if we can,” Sierra said in a warning tone.
“Fine. But if people point and laugh, it’s on you,” Eva said.
Sierra laughed. “My money is on every eligible bachelor in town doing their best to get your attention.”
“They can do backflips for all I care—I am officially not on the market.”
“Because you’re not interested or because you’re with someone?” Sierra asked, and even though she threw the question out as casually as can be, Eva sensed intent behind her words.
“After Dane, I am officially once burned and twice shy,” Eva said.
“Well, be warned—there are going to be some cowboys there tonight who are going to do their damnedest to change your mind,” Sierra said as she disappeared out the door. “See you at the truck in ten.”
Eva wasted no time shedding her clothes and jumping beneath the trailer’s compact shower. She rinsed off the sweat and stress of a day spent inside her own head, then hastily toweled herself dry and contemplated her meager wardrobe. She needed to do some laundry, so there wasn’t a lot of choice—her black skinny jeans and a dressy tank, or her black slip dress. It was a warm enough night that the dress seemed like the smart option, so she pulled on a pair of lacy boy shorts and matching bra, then threw the dress on. Five minutes later she was clattering down the steps in a pair of colorful wedge-heeled sandals, makeup on, hair styled.
Sierra was waiting by her truck as Eva rounded the corner of the barn.
“I knew you could do it in ten minutes,” she said, opening the driver’s door and sliding in behind the wheel.
Eva helped herself to the passenger seat as Sierra started the pickup. “I felt the pressure of living up to your high expectations,” she said.
Sierra shot her an amused look as she headed down the driveway. “Sure you did, LA girl.”
Eva waited until they were on the highway driving toward town to give voice to her curiosity.
“So, what am I going to see tonight?” she asked.
“Are you asking if the Shots are any good? Because I’m a little biased, in case you hadn’t guessed.”
“I guess I’m trying to imagine Casey center stage, enjoying the limelight. He seems so self-contained.”
“He is, one on one. But he comes to life on stage. You’ll see.”
“You said something about women throwing themselves at Casey and not having a chance in hell. Why not?”
“Casey doesn’t do casual. Never has,” Sierra said with a shrug of one shoulder.
Eva glanced across at her, thrown. “Really? Never?”
“I’m not saying that. It’s not like my brothers give me a weekly rundown on their private lives. But Casey’s had a lot of opportunities to enjoy the Shots’ success, if you know what I mean, and I’ve never seen him take advantage. Not once.”
Eva frowned as she stared out the window at the dark fields rushing past outside. It was a little worrying that she’d felt a decided thud of triumph at hearing Casey didn’t make a habit of sleeping around. Whether he was a player or not shouldn’t matter to her one iota—they’d used condoms, and neither of them had made promises to each other. Sleeping with him had been about pleasure and distraction, nothing more, nothing less.
And yet there was no denying she was glad he didn’t do this all the time. That she was the exception, rather than the rule.
How messed up and confusing was that?
It’s called having your cake and eating it, too. Or being a dog in a manger. One of those things .
Even her inner smartass was confused by what she wanted when it came to Casey.
A car passed them, its headlights briefly illuminating the truck’s interior, and Eva’s attention was caught by the laminated ID hanging from the rearview mirror.
“What’s this?” she asked, catching the tag in her hand and reading the small print. She looked at Sierra, surprised. “You can fly a helicopter?”
“I can,” Sierra said.
“How come I didn’t know this about you?”
“I was thinking of having a T-shirt made, but I thought it might be a bit ostentatious,” Sierra joked. “It doesn’t come up much, especially because I haven’t had a chance to go up since you arrived.”
“Well. You’re officially a dark horse,” Eva said. “Is this a hobby or something you want to do for a living or what?”
“Long term, I’d love to get my commercial license. That’s what I’m working toward at the moment but you need a lot of flight hours and they’re expensive. One of our neighbors, Gideon Tate, lets me use his chopper sometimes if he’s in town, but he hasn’t been around much lately. So it’s probably going to take a while to get where I need to be.”
Eva frowned. “Why do I know that name?”
Sierra’s hands shifted on the steering wheel. “Casey might have mentioned him. He was driving the other car in the accident that killed our parents.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s a fact of life.” Sierra was quiet for a beat. “The boys don’t like me flying his chopper. They don’t like feeling like we owe him anything.”
“Was the accident his fault?” Eva asked.
“Nope. The accident report says Dad’s truck hit some ice on a turn, and he lost control and drifted across the line. Gideon barely had a chance to brake before they hit.”
Eva’s gut clenched as her imagination threw up vivid images of what must have happened next.
“I guess it must be hard, knowing he’s alive and they’re dead,” Eva said, thinking it through.
“Sure. And Gideon got Jed’s back up in the early days, offering money to help out. At one stage, he even offered to buy the ranch outright.”
Eva winced. “A little misguided.”
She’d only just met the Carmodys, but it was obvious to her that they were deeply committed to the ranch their parents had built out of nothing.
“Just a little,” Sierra said. “But I figure his intentions were mostly good. And the truth is, it will take me years to get where I need to be without his generosity, and the sooner I can get my license, the sooner I can start paying back all the money Jed has spent on lessons over the years. I want to contribute more, and if that means taking Gideon Tate’s guilty charity, I will.”
There was steel and determination in her voice and Eva figured the Carmody brothers were going to have a fight on their hands if they ever tried to clip Sierra’s wings.
“You go, girl,” Eva said approvingly.
Because it was her personal philosophy that everyone was entitled to their dreams, no matter how big or small they were.
They were rolling down Main Street by then and Sierra made an approving noise when she spotted a parking space opposite the saloon. She swung into it deftly and threw the truck into park.
“Time to brace yourself. It’s going to be busy in there, so stay close, okay?” Sierra said as they exited the truck.
Eva glanced toward the saloon, and sure enough, there was a line of people waiting to enter. On a Thursday night.
“Are The Whiskey Shots the only band on the bill?” she asked.
“Oh yeah. They don’t need anyone else,” Sierra said. There was more than a hint of pride in her voice.
She led the way across the street, her long legs eating up the ground, and Eva had to almost run to keep up with her. Sierra called out greetings to a few people in the queue before joining the line and taking out her phone to text someone.
“Just checking to see if Cara has grabbed a booth yet,” Sierra said. “Otherwise we might be standing.”
Evidently she got good news from her friend because she punched the air a few seconds later.
“Awesome, we’re in, and she’s already ordered a pitcher of margaritas,” Sierra said.
“I like her already,” Eva said.
The line shuffled forward and a few minutes later Sierra was exchanging greetings with the burly security guy on the door. And then they were inside and it was insane .
It was like walking into someone else’s surprise party, it was so crowded and noisy. Eva blinked, a little overwhelmed, and almost lost Sierra as she immediately plowed into the crowd, heading for the booths that lined the left wall. Lunging forward, Eva chased the other woman, ducking elbows and excuse me-ing her way past what had to be half the population of Marietta.
This was not what she’d envisaged when she’d imagined Casey playing a gig at the local bar. She’d pictured a few well-intentioned locals supporting live music played by people they knew, tapping their feet and singing along whenever they recognized a song.
Not in a million years had she anticipated this heaving mass of expectant, boisterous people, and Eva glanced toward the stage, beginning to suspect she’d seriously underestimated Casey and his band.
“There you are. I thought I’d lost you,” Sierra said, reaching out to pull Eva onto the bench seat on one side of a booth already crowded with three other women, all of whom looked to be around the same age as Sierra.
“Eva, this is Cara, Ashley, and Jessica. Ladies, this is Eva—she’s staying in the trailer out at the ranch while she’s in town on business,” Sierra said.
“Oh my God. When did you start renting out the trailer and when can I move in?” Ashley asked. A small brunette, she had an open, sunny face and a cute button nose.
The others laughed, and Sierra gave Eva a wry look. “Ashley is my brother’s number one fan.”
“And my good friend here refuses to set me up on a date with him,” Ashley said, reaching across the table to give Sierra’s arm an admonishing shake.
“I am not my brother’s social secretary,” Sierra said firmly.
“I’ll make you maid of honor at our wedding,” Ashley said, her tone light.
“What brings you to town, Eva?” Cara asked pointedly, very deliberately changing the subject. Slim, blond and angular, she had direct blue eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor.
“I’m in contention for a commission to do an art mural on the old Clarke grain elevator,” Eva explained.
“I heard about that project,” Jessica said, tucking blond curls behind her ears. “My mom does admin work for the Chamber of Commerce. I think she said it’s going to be more than a hundred feet tall…? It sounds like it’s going to be pretty epic when it’s done.”
“It will be if Eva wins the commission,” Sierra said loyally, reaching for the jug in the middle of the table to pour a drink for herself and Eva.
The sound of applause prevented Eva from having to say more, and she looked across to see The Whiskey Shots had come on stage. Her gaze gravitated to Casey as he slid his guitar strap over his head and settled the instrument against his body. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt and well-worn jeans with boots, his overgrown hair pushed back from his forehead, but somehow he looked more now that he was up on stage.
Gilded. Special.
Such was the power of fame, even modest fame.
She half expected him to appear nervous, or intimidated by the capacity crowd, but he scanned the audience with a small, confident smile, said something over his shoulder to the drummer, then stepped closer to the mic.
“Evening, Marietta. Hope you’re ready to raise the roof,” Casey said, his deep voice filling the room and silencing the chatter.
Eva heard the drummer counting them in, then the room filled with sound as the Shots launched into their first song. It was fast-paced and high-spirited, with a rhythm that quickly had her wanting to tap her fingers on the table. A few people whistled their approval, clearly recognizing the song—and then Casey started singing and Eva was glad she was sitting down because otherwise she was sure she’d have fallen over.
Deep and resonant, with just a hint of emotional rasp, Casey’s voice was so good, so delicious, so compelling she felt all the little hairs on her arms stand up.
“ Jesus ,” she said, unable to take her eyes off him as he commanded center stage.
“Told you,” Sierra said in her ear. “He’s amazing.”
He was. Assured and playful, utterly committed and confident, he had the crowd in the palm of his hand as he sang about love and laughter and having it all. By then people were stomping their feet in time with the beat and singing along, and Eva couldn’t keep the smile off her face.
Well, how about that. Apparently she’d been sleeping with a freaking superstar for the past two nights. No wonder poor Ashley had a crush on him—Eva suspected half the women in the room harbored X-rated fantasies about the hot, talented man singing his heart out on stage.
She watched, bemused, as the Shots powered straight into a second song, barely giving the audience a chance to signal their appreciation.
Glancing across, Sierra laughed when she saw Eva’s face.
“It’s a little shocking at first, I know,” Sierra said, obviously enjoying Eva’s bafflement. “He’s the last person to draw attention to himself in everyday life, but up there, he owns it because it’s about the music for him. That’s all he cares about, making it as good as it can be, and people just respond to that passion.”
It was an astute observation. Genuine passion combined with great skill was very attractive all on its own, but combined with Casey’s hard body and pretty face, his appeal was undeniable.
“How have they not been discovered yet?” Eva asked, because she’d seen enough bands in her time to know that the kind of alchemy she was witnessing right now was rare and precious.
Sierra shrugged. “Beats me. But it will happen one day, and I can’t wait for him to be able to do what he loves instead of feeling torn in two all the time.”
Eva wanted to ask what Sierra meant by that, but now was not the time or place to pump the other woman for information about her brother.
Or you could just let it go, because you’re being smart and concentrating on what you came here for. Remember?
The crowd went wild at the end of the song, screaming and clapping so loudly Eva had to cover her ears. Casey smiled, lifting a hand in acknowledgment, then took off his guitar. Returning to center stage, he wrapped both hands around the mic as the opening bars of a ballad filled the space. Casey lowered his head, his hair falling forward to mask his face. Then the music opened up, and he lifted his head and started singing with a raw emotional intensity that gave Eva gooseflesh all over again.
Which was when she understood she was not going to be smart or sensible when it came to Casey Carmody. Far from it.
That ship had sailed the moment Casey walked on stage.
She was going to be reckless. She was going to indulge herself. She was going to let this beautiful, talented man do incredible things to her body, and worry about the consequences afterward.
The realization should have made her anxious, but Casey was on stage, and she couldn’t look away.
She’d worry about tomorrow when it came. And tonight…tonight she would simply enjoy.
*
Casey pushed his hair off his forehead and looked out over the crowd. A sea of faces looked back at him, the air vibrating with the force of the applause as the final notes of the final song reverberated around the bar.
“Marietta, you brought it tonight. Thanks for partying with us and giving us all the love. We love you guys,” he said into the mic.
His words set the crowd off again, and when he glanced over his shoulder to see how the band was taking it, he could see they were getting off on it as much as he was, mouths stretched wide in crazy grins.
Nothing in the world matched this feeling. Nothing .
The crowd wouldn’t let up, so he looked to Wyatt, eyebrows raised in question. Wyatt nodded and Casey faced front again and leaned into the mic.
“All right, you sweet-talking fools. One more, but it’s gotta be the last or we’ll be in trouble with the management. If you haven’t kicked up your heels yet, now’s the time.”
He launched into “Blue Sky Dreamer,” feeling the bass and the beat in his bones, loving the expansive feeling in his chest as he gave the lyrics everything he had.
Too quickly the song was over, and even though the applause was just as crazy and sustained, he didn’t cave and sing another encore. The show had to end sometime.
Giving the audience one last wave, he slipped his guitar strap over his head and carried it offstage with him. Later, when the bar was empty, he and the boys would come back out and pack up their gear, but for now all he could think about was getting his hands on a cold beer.
“Oh, man,” Wyatt said, collapsing into a chair in the windowless room set aside for the entertainment backstage. “That was epic .”
Casey smiled and reached for one of the beers waiting on ice for them. “Yeah, it wasn’t too bad.”
“Did you see them turning people away at the door?” Danny said.
“No shit?” Rory said, eyebrows raised. A slow grin stretched his mouth. “Well, how about that. A full house.”
“We did good, boys,” Wyatt said, lifting his beer in a toast.
They all leaned forward to clink bottles.
A knock sounded on the door before it cracked and Sierra peeked into the room. “Just me, plus one,” she said.
Casey had already spotted Eva in the corridor, his gaze running over her scrap of a dress and bare legs and arms, her tattoo a bright, bold splash on her upper arm. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d stopped himself from asking his sister if Eva had agreed to come see him play over the past two days. The thought that she might be in the audience tonight had added an extra buzz to the adrenaline coursing through him when he stepped on stage, but he hadn’t known until this moment if she’d actually come or not.
Her gaze met his and she smiled, and he could tell by the look in her eyes that she’d enjoyed his music. It was a little pathetic how relieved he was that that was the case.
“You guys were so good tonight,” Sierra said. “So. Good. I thought the roof was going to lift right off there at the end.”
“This is why you are always welcome in the band room, Sierra,” Rory said.
“You had a good time?” Casey asked, his gaze still on Eva.
“I did, I had a great time. I’m officially a country convert,” she said.
“She even stood on her seat at the end,” Sierra said.
Eva shrugged a shoulder and laughed. “I got carried away, what can I say?”
There was something about the way she lifted her chin and shifted her shoulders that reminded him of the way she’d held herself when she straddled him that first night, and all of a sudden all he could think about was getting her alone and naked.
Okay, take a deep breath. You’re high on adrenaline and endorphins right now.
It was true, he was, but that didn’t diminish his need for her. He’d been thinking about her for two days, living off the occasional glimpse of her as she disappeared around the corner of the barn or headed off in her van, telling himself she had to make the next move because he wasn’t going to be That Guy.
“All right, we’ll leave you to it,” Sierra said.
“Okay, good to see you, gorgeous,” Danny said.
“You know you’re still Plan B for me if Louanne gives me the heave-ho, right?” Wyatt said.
“Be still my heart, you old romantic,” Sierra said, blowing him a kiss before switching her attention to Casey. “See you at home.”
Casey nodded, doing his best to not stare at Eva like a hungry dog.
“Great show. Really amazing,” Eva said, flashing him a smile before following Sierra out the door.
It took every bit of self-discipline Casey had not to go after her and stop her from leaving.
“Holy guacamole. Who is the smoking-hot blonde?” Danny asked, giving a long, suggestive whistle, the moment they were gone.
“Her name’s Eva King. She’s in town for the week, renting the trailer out at our place,” Casey explained.
“You lucky bastard,” Danny said.
Casey took a pull from his beer and lifted a shoulder, hoping it would be enough to change the subject.
“So, is she single?” Danny asked. “Because I know a guy who likes hot blondes.” He gestured toward himself and the other guys cracked up.
“She’s here for work,” Casey said, and he could hear the tightness in his own voice.
Danny’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “Uh-oh. Did I just step on your toes, Carmody?”
“She our guest, that’s all. She doesn’t need a bunch of horn-dog cowboys sniffing around like desperados,” Casey said.
“Definitely stepped on some toes there,” Rory said. “Good luck, buddy—I think you’ve got your work cut out for you there. She’s got big-city girl written all over her.”
Casey tossed his empty beer bottle into the nearby trash can. “I wasn’t happy with the mix at the start of the gig. Anyone else notice the bass was out?”
Wyatt took the bait, and instead of taking apart his private life, they did an autopsy on the gig for the next fifteen minutes. By then the bar was closed and they filtered back to the stage to pack up their gear. He’d just returned from taking his guitar and amp out to his truck when Wyatt caught him in the corridor.
“Hey, Case—don’t listen to what Danny said earlier. So what if she’s a city girl? Louanne is from New York City. Doesn’t get more big-city than that.”
Casey bit back a sigh, aware his friend was coming from a good place. “She’s in town for a week. Don’t go picking out a tuxedo just yet,” he said, trying to keep it light.
“Plans change, man. Feelings happen. Never say never, right?” Wyatt said before clapping him on the shoulder and heading outside.
Casey shook the moment off, but his friend’s words came back to him as he took the road out of town fifteen minutes later.
Plans change. Feelings happen. Never say never.
It was ridiculous how much he wanted to take heart from Wyatt’s wisdom, but he knew he’d be setting himself up for a fall if he pushed things with Eva. He already liked her more than he should, and she’d made it clear in lots of ways that what had happened between them was about sex and only sex for her.
He didn’t hold that against her, but seeing her again had driven home to him that he was playing with fire.
If he let her, Eva King could break his heart.
He caught the glint of animal eyes on the side of the road and slowed, just to be safe, wishing he was built differently. More like his brother, Jesse, who never seemed to have trouble moving on or enjoying temporary dalliances. He’d never bragged about it, but Casey had a fair idea what the lifestyle of a pro rodeo cowboy was like.
Of course, Jesse was head over heels for CJ now, and that was unlikely to change anytime soon from what Casey had seen. His brother was about as lovestruck and besotted as it was possible for a man to be.
But Eva was not CJ. Not even close. No way was Casey going to talk himself into believing that, regardless of Wyatt’s wildly optimistic advice.
It shouldn’t be too hard to avoid her for the rest of her stay. She’d kept to herself the last two days. There was no reason to think she wouldn’t keep doing so, given how immersed she was in her work. And if Sierra invited her to dinner again, he could handle that.
He just had to stay out of her bed. Definitely achievable, he figured.
Then he pulled into the yard and his headlights caught a slight, blond figure sitting on the porch steps and all his good intentions went up in flames.