Chapter 2
Chapter Two
C asey felt a little out of sorts after he left Nothin’ But Muffins, but he figured it wasn’t anything a cold beer and a pretty country girl looking for a good time wouldn’t fix. He had always believed happiness was something you had to work for. It wasn’t just handed out like trick-or-treat candy. And he worked hard at being the happy-go-lucky man he was and not sweating the small stuff. Or the big stuff for that matter, something his daddy had never been too happy about.
Sam Remington loved to sweat, both literally and figuratively. He worked from before sunrise to well after sunset and believed his two sons should too. He worried about everything. Cattle prices, drought, Hank Holiday’s ranch being more successful than his, Casey never growing up. The latter was probably something to worry about, but Casey flat refused to spend his life worrying and working. If something came up that took him a little by surprise, he dealt with it.
As he drove his truck to the Hellhole bar, he had to admit the feel of Noelle in his arms had taken him a little by surprise. Or maybe what had taken him by surprise was the reaction his body had to the feel of her in his arms.
It had liked holding her. It had liked holding her a lot.
Which confused Casey no small amount.
Noelle Holiday had never been his type.
He preferred a tall woman he could look right in the eyes without getting a crick in his neck. He preferred blue eyes to eyes the color of fungus growing in the cracks of a dead tree. He preferred blondes, redheads, or brunettes—even purple and pink—to hair the color of a black widow.
He also preferred women who enjoyed a little teasing and a good joke. Noelle Holiday was as sour and driven as his daddy and never had been able to take a joke. Which probably explained why he worked so hard to get under both their skins. The only thing he enjoyed more than riling his daddy was watching Noelle’s eyes squint with anger and her cheeks turn a mottled red.
Which was exactly how she’d looked after he’d startled her and she’d dumped whatever she’d been making all over herself. He’d been thoroughly enjoying himself. . . until she’d slipped and almost cracked her head open on the marble counter. Then he’d been scared. Like heart-pounding, nerve-jumping scared.
His fear probably explained why he’d gotten a semi-erection while holding her close. Emotions were complicated things that could easily get confused. His mama and daddy’s relationship was a perfect example of that. They had thought they were in love, but it turned out they didn’t even like each other enough to share custody of their two sons. Mama left when Casey was no more than two and never looked back. Which probably explained why Casey didn’t trust relationships as far as he could throw them. He kept his dealings with women simple and purely sexual.
And he was NOT sexually interested in Noelle Holiday.
To prove, it, not more than fifteen minutes later, he was bellied up to the bar at the Hellhole enjoying a beer and scoping out a pretty blonde sitting at a table not more than a few feet from the bar. He sent her a smile when she glanced over and was a little taken back when her eyes widened with surprise. Not good surprise, but shocked surprise. Did he have something on his face?
He turned to the mirror behind the bar, but he didn’t see anything unusual. When he turned back around, the blonde was talking to her friends. They all turned to look at him before glancing back at the cellphone the blonde was holding.
Maybe they thought he looked like someone they knew. Some folks thought he looked like that cocky fighter pilot in the second Top Gun movie. Casey didn’t see the resemblance, but if women thought he looked like a movie star, who was he to argue.
“Checking out your prospects for the evening?”
He pulled his gaze away from the women and saw Fiona Stokes standing there in her antiquated business suit and mangy mink stole. Mrs. Stokes was the matriarch of the town. Her family had started Wilder and she pretty much owned half the businesses—including the bank. She was tough as nails and never minced words and Casey pretty much adored the hell out of her.
“Well, it looks like my prospects just improved.” He winked. “What do you say, beautiful? You want to spend the evening with a lonely cowboy?”
A smile quivered on her thin lips for a second before they returned to a stern line. “Don’t waste that boyish charm on me, Casey Remington. I’m too old for it.”
“You’re not old. You’re just mature.” He helped her up on the barstool. “Bourbon?”
“What else?”
He grinned as he motioned to the bartender and pointed at Mrs. Stokes. Everyone in Wilder knew Mrs. Stokes drank straight bourbon. She also smoked like a chimney. Or had until a few weeks ago when Corbin Whitlock had talked her into quitting. Casey was still trying to figure out what he had on the old gal. Whatever it was, she wasn’t telling. So he’d taken to guessing.
“You once worked at Mrs. Fields Boardinghouse as a lovely lady of the evening and Corbin is threatening to reveal your sordid past if you don’t give up smoking.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I wish I’d been smart enough to get paid for having sex with men. If I had been, I’d be filthy rich rather than just rich.”
He laughed. “You’re my kind of woman, Ms. Stokes.”
“If I was forty years younger, I’d give you a run for your money. You need a strong woman who won’t put up with your shenanigans.”
“But shenanigans are so much fun.”
Her eyes twinkled and she swatted him on the arm. “You are a bad boy. But all bad boys must grow up. When exactly do you plan to do that?”
“Now, Ms. Stokes, don’t go sounding like my daddy. All he can talk about is me settling down. But I’m not ready to settle down just yet. In fact, I might not ever be ready.” He winked at her. “I might be like you and just play the field.”
“That certainly wasn’t by choice. I wanted to settle down, but my husbands kept dying off. Now, I’m stuck with remaining single or marrying a man who is content to sit in his recliner all day and watch The Price is Right . Or a younger man who is after my money more than my heart. You, on the other hand, have a wide array of women to settle down with.” She glanced at the women at the table. “Those three seem to be quite smitten with you. Although I’d prefer you chose a Wilder woman.”
He was about to reiterate he wasn’t interested in choosing any woman for a wife when Melba Wadley stepped up with a big basket hooked over her arm. He didn’t even have to look to know what was inside. Melba fostered orphaned or abused animals. She always had one or two she was looking to find homes for.
“Hey, y’all. I’m glad I ran into you, Casey.” She lifted the basket up to the bar and two furry heads popped out—one golden and the other black. “I’d like you to meet June Carter and Johnny Cash.” Melba named all her foster animals after country singers.
Casey couldn’t help lavishing ear scratches on the two cute Lab puppies. “Hey, Junie. Hey, John. How adorable are y’all?” He glanced at Melba to see her smiling like she’d just struck a deal. “But sorry, Mel. Like I told you before, I can’t take them. If I bring home any more animals, besides ones who will make us a profit, Daddy will tan my hide and hang it out to dry.”
“How about one puppy? They would make fine hunting dogs. Or maybe you could give them as a gift.” Melba shot him a sly look. “They’ll melt a woman’s heart in a New York second.”
“I’m sure they will.” He laughed as the black puppy licked his face and made his own heart melt. “But I’m not looking to melt any women’s hearts. But I will talk to my daddy about getting a couple hunting dogs. He does love to hunt.”
Melba’s face lit up. “That’s great! Just call me at the sheriff’s office and let me know.” Her gaze shifted to something behind Casey and she grinned. “For now, it looks like you don’t need puppies to get women.” He turned to see the blonde and her two friends standing there.
“Come on, Mel,” Mrs. Stokes said as she accepted the bourbon from the bartender and got off the stool. “Let’s not cramp the young buck’s style.”
He watched them walk off before he turned to the women and flashed a smile. “Good evenin’, ladies.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” the blonde said. “But you look familiar.”
His smile got bigger. “I love being familiar.”
She laughed. “No, really. Were you at Nothin’ But Muffins tonight?”
He blinked. “I was, but I’m sorry. I don’t remember seeing y’all there.” He knew for a fact they hadn’t been there. The only woman there had been the one who hated his guts.
The blonde turned to her friends. “I told you it was him.” She turned back to Casey with a big smile. “I just wanted to say that I love Holiday Kitchen and I think it’s so great Noelle has finally found a man like you. It just gives the rest of us hope that one day we’ll find our own cowboy hero to walk in and sweep us off our feet.”
Casey was normally never at a loss for words, but he was at a loss now. “Umm . . . I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t know what y’all are talking about.”
The blonde looked confused. “So you didn’t save Noelle from falling?”
Casey stared at her. “How do you know about that?”
She tapped her cellphone and held it out so he could see the screen. Noelle’s face had him taking a step back. He had thought cutting her hair short had been a bad idea, but now he had to admit that it didn’t look half bad. She looked a little like Snow White with her pale skin, red lipstick, and ruffled apron.
An apron he’d seen just that night.
Suddenly, it dawned on him what he was looking at. He was looking at the video Noelle had been making when he’d walked into the Nothin’ But Muffins kitchen. He thought for sure she’d delete it—or at least edit him out. But not more than a minute later, his voice came out of the blonde’s phone.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that, Smelly Ellie. Talk about having my heart broken right in two.”
Noelle whirled around and struggled to catch the bowl she’d knocked off. Once it hit the floor, he remembered the hate in her eyes. But with her back turned to the camera, he couldn’t see it now. Nor could he hear what she was saying. The only voice he could hear was his own. He’d been teasing her, but without her sassy replies, it sounded more like he was flirting with her. Then she stepped back and slipped. As she started to fall, his face popped into the screen. A face of sheer panic. It settled into relief when he caught her and pulled her into his chest.
And what the hell was that expression on his face when he drew back and looked down at her?
“It’s just so sweet,” the brunette gushed. “Noelle has been looking for love and she didn’t realize it was right in her backyard.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “She didn’t realize you’ve had a crush on her since kindergarten.”
His eyes widened and he shook his head. “Sorry, ladies, but I’m afraid that y’all have gotten the wrong idea. I don’t have a crush on Noelle Holiday. I’ve never had a crush on her. She slipped and fell and I—”
“Was worried sick,” the blonde finished. “It’s written all over your face.”
He frowned and tried to get ahold of the situation. “Okay. I get that it looked like that. And to be honest, I never want to see someone get hurt. But I’m not interested in Noelle. And if she were here right now, she’d tell you that she’s certainly not interested in me.” He tipped his hat. “Now if y’all will excuse me.”
When he got in his truck, he tossed his hat to the dashboard and released his breath in a frustrated huff. This night hadn’t turned out quite like he’d planned. He should have never stopped when he saw the lights on at Nothin’ But Muffins. But he knew Sheryl Ann was out of town and worried someone had broken in. Now he was paying for doing his civic duty.
Maybe that’s exactly what Noelle wanted. She wanted him to pay for all the teasing he’d done over the years. But harmless teasing was one thing. Posting embarrassing videos on social media for the entire world to see was another. While he wanted to ignore what she’d done and move on, he couldn’t.
He started his truck, popped it into drive, and sprayed gravel as he left the Hellhole’s parking lot. He drove past Nothin’ But Muffins first. When he saw it was dark, he headed for Holiday Ranch.
The ranch was much smaller than Remington Ranch, but the two-story farmhouse with its huge porch had always been much homier than the sterile house Casey had grown up in. Although now that his brother, Rome, had married Cloe Holiday things were changing. The Holiday women seemed to know how to make a house a home. Cloe had filled the inside of the Remington house with throw pillows, comfy blankets, scented candles, and framed photographs. On the outside, she’d covered the front porch with as many pumpkins, dried cornstalks, and autumn wreathes as her family’s porch. The wreath on the Holidays’ front door was so full of artificial leaves, tiny pumpkins, and little stuffed scarecrows that Casey struggled to find a place to knock.
And maybe he shouldn’t knock.
He glanced at the dark windows. He didn’t want to wake up the entire household. Especially when he knew Hank owned a shotgun. Even though his daughter had married Rome, Hank still struggled with the grudge he’d harbored for decades against the Remingtons.
Not wanting his butt to be filled with buckshot, Casey turned from the door and headed down the porch steps. He knew where Noelle and Hallie’s childhood bedroom was located. Once he got around back, he picked up a few pebbles from the ground and tossed them up at the window. He was starting to think he was wasting his time when the window opened.
But it wasn’t Noelle who peeked her head out.
It was Jace Carson.
Like Casey, Jace had been born and raised in Wilder. Unlike Casey, he’d moved away after high school to become a pro football player. A career-ending shoulder injury had brought him back home again where he’d fallen in love with Noelle’s sister, Hallie, and married her. Just a few weeks ago in fact. Which might explain the scowl on his face.
“Casey?”
Casey lifted a hand. “Hey, Jace.” He was about to explain what he was doing there when Hallie’s voice drifted out the window.
“What are you doing, baby? Don’t tell me I was too hot for you and you needed a little cool air.”
Casey cringed. “Uhh . . . I’ll just come back later, Jace.” He started to leave, but Hallie popped her head out next to Jace’s.
“Casey?”
He lifted a hand. “Hey, Hal.” He had always gotten along with the other Holiday sisters. It was just Noelle who hated him.
“Is something wrong?” Her eyes widened. “Is Cloe having the baby?”
He quickly shook his head. “No, no, Cloe’s fine. I just stopped by to see Noelle.”
Hallie’s eyes widened even more. “Noelle?”
The window next to Jace and Hallie’s opened and Mimi peeked her head out. “What is the world is going—Casey Remington?”
He sighed. “Hi, Miss Mimi. Before you get worried, this has nothing to do with Cloe.”
“He says he’s here to see Noelle,” Hallie said.
“Noelle?” Mimi looked at him as if he’d sprouted horns.
Not wanting the rest of the Holidays to stick their heads out the windows, he decided it was time to leave. “Sorry to bother y’all. I’ll just come back in the morning to talk with Noelle.”
He turned and headed for his truck. But before he could reach it, the front door opened and Noelle stepped out. Her hair was mussed and her green eyes snapped with anger as she stomped down the porch steps. But it was hard to be too intimidated when she was dressed in a candy cane onesie. If not for the full-figured curves outlined by the fuzzy material, she’d look like an angry dark-haired toddler.
“Just why are you stalking me, Casey Remington?”
“Stalking is a pretty strong word, Ellie. Especially when I think you know exactly why I’m here. I don’t find your revenge amusing.”
She stopped in front of him and he got a whiff of her scent. Ever since he could remember, Noelle had always smelled like cookies straight from the oven. Yummy, warm homemade cookies. “Revenge? What are you talking about?”
He ignored the tempting scent and stayed focused on the problem at hand. “I’m talking about the video you posted of me on social media.”
“I didn’t post a video of you. I posted a video of me and you just happened to videobomb it.”
“You could have edited me out.”
“Not when it was live.”
He stared at her. “Live?”
“Yes. Live. I always film live.”
So she hadn’t posted it on purpose. But that didn’t make things better. “Can you take it down?”
“I already did. The last thing I need is my followers thinking you’re my new boyfriend.”
“Ditto. Nice jammies, by the way.” His gaze swept over the onesie. The fabric looked cuddly soft . . . or maybe what looked cuddly soft were the full breasts and hips beneath. He realized he was ogling her and quickly lifted his gaze. Even with her back to the porch light, he could see the blush staining her cheeks.
“I’m sure you prefer your women to wear itchy, uncomfortable lingerie.”
He did. Which didn’t explain the warm pool of desire that settled in his stomach at just the thought of cuddling up next to the cozy pajama-wearing woman in front of him. He blinked the strange thought away as she continued.
“Now if you’re done waking up my entire family, you need to go. You’re not welcome at Holiday Ranch.”
At one time, that had been true. Hank and Sam had been sworn enemies since before Casey had been born and their offspring had not been welcome on either’s ranch. But times had changed. Something Casey couldn’t help pointing out as he headed to his truck.
“Well, that’s interesting because your mama invited me to Thanksgiving dinner. And how can I refuse when . . .” He flashed a smile over his shoulder and winked. “‘There’s always something cookin’ in the Holiday Kitchen .’”