sexual turbulence remained, gnawing at him, testing him, but now other, darker emotions gripped him too. He didn’t want to study them too closely. “I see.”
He could feel her turmoil. And he could taste her interest, damn her. It was there, shimmering between them. Yet, she’d be with Damon, her friend.
Once long ago, Casey had been her friend. Probably her best friend, if not the only one. He’d told her then that he didn’t share. That much hadn’t changed. He wanted her, but on his terms.
And that’s how he’d have her.
Emma slowly straightened in her seat and stared straight ahead. “I seriously doubt that you see anything.”
The dog stuck his head over the seat and whined. Emma shifted enough to pat him, then buried her face in his scruff. “It’s okay, B.B.”
Casey sat in brooding silence for several moments, watching as she comforted the big dog. Slashes of moonlight silhouetted her body and the slow movements of her stroking hands through thick fur. She ignored him as if he didn’t exist, not once looking at him. It didn’t matter.
Despite any protest Devaughn might make, Casey knew he’d eventually have her.
By her own admission, she wasn’t married, wasn’t engaged, so no one, Damon included, had any real claim on her. That left Casey free to do as he pleased. And it would please him a hell of a lot to take care of unfinished business so he could get her out of his system and get on with his life. It felt as if he’d been on hold for eight years. Now, finally, he’d discover what he’d missed so many years ago. Finally, he’d appease the ache.
Because he knew he’d lost ground by letting her see his anger, Casey changed his tack. “I got the money you sent.”
Startled, she released the dog. “I’m sorry I took it in the first place. It was wrong.”
“You know I’d have given it to you if you’d asked.” She nodded without recognizing the outright lie. Hell, if Emma had asked him for money, he’d have known her plans and rather than leave her alone that night, he’d have kept close to her. He’d have stayed with her and everything would have turned out different.
He wouldn’t have lost her for so long.
Remembering that night still made Casey tense. So many times over the years, he’d replayed it in his head, thinking of things he should have done, should have said. He’d given up on ever seeing her again.
Now she’d returned, and he’d done nothing but paw her. He wanted to tell her that he’d missed her, that she’d left a void in his life. But, damn it, she’d walked out on him without a backward glance. It still pissed him off.
“Where did you go when you left, Em?”
More silence. She turned her head to stare out the window.
Not bothering to hide his exasperation, Casey said, “C’mon, Emma. Hell, it’s been damn near a decade. Does it really matter if you tell me?” He couldn’t soften his tone, couldn’t soften his reaction to her. Emma had always had the ability to make him feel things he didn’t want to feel, to feel things he hadn’t felt since she’d left him.
He could see her resistance, her reticence. She didn’t trust him, never really had, and that bothered him most of all. “You came to me once, Emma. Why can’t you talk to me now?”
“People change over time, Casey.”
“Me or you?”
“In eight years? I’d say both.” Turning from the window, she looked at him and sighed. “I don’t even know you anymore.”
In so many ways she knew him better than anyone ever had. But he was glad she didn’t realize it. “So where you went is a big secret, huh?” He rubbed his upper lip as he considered her. “Must be something scandalous, right? Let me think. Wait, I know. Did you become a spy?”
She rolled her eyes, looking so much like the old teasing girl he used to know.
“No? Well, let’s see. Did you join up with a circus or get sent to prison?”
“No, no, and no.”
“Then what?” Unable to help himself, he stretched out his arm and cupped her shoulder. Her nearness made it impossible for him not to touch her. The ancient, baggy sweatshirt she wore all but hid her breasts. But Casey knew their softness, their plump weight. How they felt in his palms.
Oh, yeah, he remembered that too well.
Emma lifted her face and met his gaze. “There’s no reason to rehash old news.”
“It’s not old for me.” He recalled the many nights he’d lain awake worrying about her, imagining every awful scenario that could happen to a girl all alone. It had made him sick with fear—and blind with rage. “I offered you help, Emma, and rather than take it you left me a goddamn note that didn’t tell me a thing. You ran out on me. You stole money from me.” You ripped out my heart.
She bit her lip, her face awash in guilt. “I’m sorry.”
Damn it, he didn’t want her apology. He thought to take back the words, but instead he drew a deep breath and continued, hoping to cajole her, reassure her. “I worried about you, Emma, especially when I found out you didn’t have a relative in Ohio. I worried and I thought about you and wished like hell I’d done something different. I screwed up that night, and I know it.”
Her eyes were wide and dark, filled with incredulity. “But…that’s nonsense.”
“I don’t think so. You came to me, and I let you down.”
“No.” She leaned forward and her cool fingers caressed his jaw. His muscles clenched with her first tentative touch. “Don’t ever think that, Casey. You did more than enough. You helped me more than anyone else ever could have.”
“Right.”
“Casey…” She hesitated, then she whispered, “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You always made me happy, even after I’d gone away.”
Robbed of breath by her words, Casey closed his hand over hers and kept her palm flat against his jaw. It was such a simple touch, and it meant so much to him. “But I don’t deserve an accounting? Or do I have to go on wondering what happened to you?”
She tugged her hand free and let it drop to the gearshift. Their gazes were locked together, neither of them able or willing to look away. The dog laid his head on the back of the seat between them, watching closely. He gave a whine of curiosity.
B.B. probably felt Emma’s distress, Casey thought, because he sure as hell felt it. He regretted that he’d upset her, but he needed to know where she’d gone and how she’d gotten by. He had to know.
“All right.” Her whispered words barely reached him, then she cleared her throat and spoke with new strength. “But it’s a boring story.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
With a sigh, she dropped back into her seat and folded her hands in her lap. Her hair fell forward
