Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
JESSE
I headed home, stopping to pick up a few supplies at the hardware store.
I grabbed some groceries, including a rotisserie chicken, figuring that way, I could at least have something decent to eat.
I threw a container of potato salad into the cart and added a coleslaw, pleased.
That was a couple of well-balanced meals, at least.
At home, I looked around, but nothing had changed. I heard the “singing” of the wind chimes, as Casey called it, but oddly, the sound didn’t bother me. It was in the background, and if pressed, I might admit it was pleasant.
I put away the groceries and headed to the closet, determined to get it fixed.
I opened the door and stopped in surprise.
The coats were rehung, the shoes and boots orderly.
The boxes that had been knocked down were repacked and slid to the side.
It was as if yesterday hadn’t happened. The only difference was the container sitting on the floor.
I opened it and read the little note on top of the delicious-smelling cookies.
I’m really sorry.
Miller sniffed around my legs, pawing at the door. I rolled my eyes and knew if I did this once, I was doomed.
I did it anyway.
I pushed the coats out of the way, opened my door, and knocked on hers.
It took a minute, and I heard her pulling on it. I gave it a push, and it opened. Miller tore past me and through the door, not bothering to wait for an invite.
“Hi,” Casey murmured.
I frowned. She looked tired. Upset. None of the usual sunshine she usually showed.
“You okay?” I asked. “Are you sick?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“You cleaned the closet.”
“It was the least I could do. Once again, I apologize.”
I hated formal Casey. Laced-up, upset Casey.
“If I’d known you’d bake me cookies, I would have told you about it sooner.”
“You didn’t tell me. I found it,” she protested, sounding more like herself.
“Maybe I knew you would,” I teased.
“Whatever, Thorne,” she scoffed.
“You know, a coffee would go great with these cookies.”
She stepped back. “I can make you one.”
“Great.”
I followed her in and looked at the armoire. “It does look better there,” I said. “But how are you going to hide this door?”
“I’ll paint the wall and put a little table here.” She indicated the space to the left side. “I ordered a cool little lamp that works on batteries I’ll hang over it. I’ll put a long piece of art or something in the middle of the door. I don’t expect many visitors anyway. It’s just me.”
We walked into the living room, and I laughed at the sight of Miller snuggled with his best friend. “He’ll want access.”
She shrugged. “He’ll forget about it.”
She headed to the kitchen, and I trailed behind her, stopping at her computer. “What are all the hieroglyphics?”
“Code. I’m writing some new software for a client.”
I studied the screen. “I don’t understand it.”
She laughed. “I’m not surprised.”
I sat at the table, astonished how comfortable I was in her kitchen. She handed me a coffee and sat down with one of her own. With a wink, I offered her a cookie. “I think these look delicious,” I teased. “I picked them up this morning.”
She smiled, relaxing a little, but she didn’t take a cookie. I did and bit into it. “Chocolate chip,” I grunted. “My favorite.”
We didn’t talk for a moment, and I ate the cookie with gusto. It was thick and dense, yet chewy. Laden with chips. No nuts, which was good. I didn’t like nuts in my chocolate chip cookies.
When I finished, I rested my elbows on the table. “Casey…”
She looked up, frowning.
I held up my hand. “I’m not upset. I realized last night was a set of unfortunate instances.” I paused with a chuckle. “Something you seem to excel at.”
“Only around you,” she protested. “Normally, I’m pretty low-maintenance.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Silence fell again, and I cleared my throat. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Okay.”
“The probie is on my next two shifts,” I started to explain, but she interrupted me.
“Miller can stay with us.”
“Great.”
I cleared my throat. “You know, I could put a pet door between us. Let the animals come and go as they like.”
She frowned. “You’d do that?”
I indicated the sleeping pair. “I know my dog. He’ll scratch his way through all the doors.
I’ll remove the one on my side and put a pet door on the closet side, and in your hall door on your side.
Once I take the walls down, the closet is going anyway, so I don’t mind. Frankly, it’ll make my life easier.”
“You trust me that I won’t open the door and stroll in while you’re sleeping?”
Instantly, the thought of waking up and finding her in my room hit me. Pulling her down to the bed and tearing off her clothes. Doing everything my dirty mind had conjured up since she’d broken in to my life. I had to mentally shake the image out of my mind.
“I can put a lock on both sides of the door—a slip bolt for our guaranteed privacy. Only animal access.”
“That works,” she said with a slight frown.
I felt a strange disappointment at her agreeing with me. From the look on her face, I wondered if she felt it too. Then I dismissed that thought.
Desperate to change the subject, I sat back, crossing my ankle over my knee. “I hear you’re doing karaoke on the weekend.”
She looked surprised. “How did you know?”
“I had breakfast with Mark.”
“Ah. Yes, Cal, Lori, and some friends are going. I always had fun the times I went, so I thought I would give it a try again.”
“More like a date, I think?” I pushed.
Casey took a sip of coffee, shaking her head with a frown. “No, a group thing.”
Hearing her say that, I felt marginally better and could be magnanimous.
“I hope you have a great time.”
She stood. “I need to get back to work.”
“Of course. I’ll get the stuff and put in the pet doors. While I’m at work, I won’t have the door locked, so you can get anything you need for Miller. He can go back and forth—you could just feed him at my place. Save dragging over his stuff.”
“Sure.” She paused. “Do you have any more of the paint left from the living room?”
“Sure, I’ll bring it over. I have rollers and a tray. All the stuff you need.”
“Perfect.”
In the hall, I looked at the armoire. “You can leave it as is, or I can try jacking it from the front. I’m a little worried about the carving on the bottom, though.”
“I’ll leave it. I locked the brakes, so it’s not going anywhere.”
“Okay, then.” I paused. “Thanks, Pixie—for looking after Miller and the cookies.”
Without a thought, I bent and pressed my lips to her cheek. She drew in a fast inhale of air, no doubt as shocked as I was by my action.
I turned and walked through the closet, letting the door shut behind me.
That was a mistake. One I wouldn’t repeat.
That voice inside my head laughed at me again.
This time, I sort of agreed with its mockery.
CASEY
Saturday night, I perused my closet. I wasn’t a girly girl. I preferred jeans and leggings to skirts. When I had to dress for business, I had two nice pantsuits. I didn’t own a dress. I couldn’t handle heels, and the one pair of dressier shoes I owned were flats.
Then I reminded myself it was a bar and we were doing karaoke. I pulled on a pair of leggings and added a tunic. It flowed nicely, and I felt good in it, the blue making my eyes stand out.
I added a touch of lip gloss. That was it for me when it came to makeup, usually.
I drove to the bar, parking at the side, and I went in, pleased to see Cal and Lori already there.
Cal’s friend, Chris, was getting drinks and waved at me, holding up a beer.
I shook my head and indicated the wineglass on the tray.
He gave me a thumbs-up, and I headed to the table, saying hi to everyone.
Chris came over, setting the tray down and handing me a glass of white wine. “House,” he said.
“Great. What do I owe?”
He waved me off. “Nothing.”
“Next round on me,” I replied.
He clinked his beer to my wineglass. “Great.”
There were two other couples, and I was quiet, listening to them.
They talked about their kids, their houses, jobs.
Interesting things in town. I didn’t have a lot to add to the conversation, but when they asked about what I did, I explained it, and they were all curious and asked questions.
They were friendly, and I liked them all.
Chris sat beside me, and I noticed he kept looking at me and smiling. He was a decent-looking guy, average height, slim build, his hair cut short, and his dark eyes friendly. He told a lot of jokes—some of which fell flat, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
When the karaoke started, our table was the first to get up.
The guys sang a cowboy song, and I let the women choose ours.
I withheld my groan when they insisted on “It’s Raining Men,” but I went along with it and sang, hamming it up a little.
I’d only had one glass of wine, but I never drank much, so it was all I needed to loosen up.
When I was challenged to sing alone, I took it, walked up to the stage, and chose my favorite song.
The crowd had grown and clapped loudly as “Holding Out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler started to play. I always had fun singing the song, letting my voice belt it out loudly. I wasn’t a singer by any means, but I could carry a tune.
I moved across the stage, singing and flinging my arms dramatically, acting out the song.
The crowd clapped, whistled, and sang with me.
At one point as I faced the bar, I pointed to the crowd as I sang the chorus, and something caught my eye.
A familiar set of eyes watching me from the edge of the bar. Smiling and clapping with everyone.
Jesse.
I blinked, and he was gone. Back into the shadows or simply an illusion my mind came up with, I didn’t know.
Then the song was over, and I waved off the shouts of encore and returned to the table. I sat down, drinking the bottle of water I had asked Lori for. I wiped my forehead. “Warm in here.”
Chris laughed. “You were great.”
“Thanks.” I stood. “Excuse me.”
I went to the ladies’ room, my gaze sweeping the bar. I didn’t see Jesse. It had to be a figment of my imagination. He was at the station, working. Not out on a Saturday night.
I splashed some cold water on my face, feeling better for the refreshing cool. I was on the way back to the table when someone stepped in front of me.
Jesse.
I hadn’t seen him since the day after the incident.
I stayed out of his way while he installed the pet doors, and he left without saying goodbye since Miller and Barney had quickly started using the convenient way to see each other.
He had waved as he left for his shift, but that was all of our contact.
I had felt a little sad about it, then decided it was for the best. I seemed to be on my worst behavior when he was around.
I gasped in shock. “What are you doing here?”
He grinned. “Picking up wings for the crew. I arrived just in time for the show.”
I laughed. “One-time performance.”
“You were really into it.”
I shrugged. “Gotta give the people what they want.”
He stepped closer, his voice low. “Is that what you want, Pixie? A hero?”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I-I was just singing.”
“Sounded pretty personal to me.”
“Um—”
He stepped forward again, and I moved back. I hit the wall, and still, he pressed closer. He stared down at me, his gaze heated, one arm braced on the wall beside my head. My breath caught at the intensity on his face. The way he kept dropping his gaze to my lips. The air suddenly felt too thin.
“Jesse,” I breathed. “What?—”
“Hey, Jesse. The wings are ready. We need to go,” a voice behind Jesse spoke.
The spell was broken. Jesse straightened and stepped back. “Right.” His voice was cool and polite. “Have a great night, Casey. Keep tearing up the stage.”
And he was gone.