Every Little Kiss (25 page)

“Oh, thank goodness!” Anna said when she caught sight of the pair. Up close, her face was more pale than Casey had expected. Probably because she'd been through the whole process before, with Juniper, and knew just how difficult it could be. “Betty, any news?”

Betty glanced at her phone. “Not since the initial text. But I wonder if he'll just come out and tell us in person when it's all over?” She glanced at the gray door that separated the waiting room from where the babies were delivered.

Audrey sidled up next to Casey. “Hey there,” Audrey said, linking arms with her sister. “How are things?”

Casey wondered how she should answer.
Amazing. Confusing.

Instead, she pulled Audrey into a corner of the waiting room and filled her in on the fire, and how she realized that her feelings for Abe went far beyond her list. “I think…that is, I might actually love him.”

Audrey responded by punching Casey in the shoulder. “See? I told you so.”

“Ow. That hurt. And I don't think that's what you're supposed to say.”

“Sorry. I know, I know. I just didn't think you'd take a chance on this guy, but here you are, being such a total badass!” Audrey's molasses-colored eyes sparkled. “You listened to your heart instead of to your list.”

Casey exhaled. “See, that's the problem, though. I don't know if my heart can get us past the no-kids part. No matter what we feel for one another, that might just trump everything.”

Audrey nodded. “It might. Have you talked to him?”

“I just saw him. We got interrupted. I'll try again tomorrow.”

“No matter what happens, I'm still really proud of you. You're taking a risk—an actual, bona fide risk—and that's worth something. More than something. It's worth a lot. You're letting go of control.”

“Enough already, Professor Head Shrink. I get it.”

“Probably I should say it one more time, though. To make sure you really understand that you—”

Casey silenced her sister the same way she had when they were kids. She pinched her hard on the back of her upper arm, and giggled when her sister squealed.

Audrey tried pinching her back, but she deflected it with a nearby
TV Guide
. They were both laughing so hard they almost missed the fact that Burk had walked into the room, eyes ringed with exhaustion but shining, and announced that his and Willa's daughter had arrived.

Minutes later, the group was gathered around Willa's bed, gazing in quiet wonder at the baby snuggled into her mom's chest. Willa's eyes had the same tired look Burk's did, but joy made her radiant.

“Meet Calico Bella Olmstead,” Willa said, her voice whispery with wonder. “I think we'll call her Callie.” She peeled back the pink blanket so the group could get a closer look at the tiny red face, the curled fingers, the miniature lips. Callie was exquisite.

“She is beautiful,” Anna said, blinking back tears. “The perfect niece.”

“Why Calico?” Betty asked, beating them all to the question—as usual.

Willa glanced at Burk, who was standing nearby. They shared a secret smile. It was simple but powerful enough to knock the breath out of Casey, this idea that two people could communicate whole sentences with just a flicker of their mouths, or the arch of their brows. She wondered if she and Abe would ever get a chance to learn such a complicated and secret and special language.

“Calico like the fabric,” Willa said, “to honor Knots and Bolts and all of you. I don't think she'd be here today if it weren't for the recipe exchange. I want Calico to be a reminder that a group of strong women with enough casserole and pie can change the course of history. Or, if not history, then at least the course of events in this girl's life.”

She kissed the top of Callie's head while Casey—along with everyone around her—battled back a fresh round of tears. “Well, shit,” Betty muttered. “If I had known you were going to say all that, I wouldn't have asked.”

Casey felt suddenly full, though not the kind that comes after eating too much at Thanksgiving. She felt like her heart had finally thunked into place in her rib cage. This whole time, she had wondered if it had been just millimeters off, brushing up against hard bone and gristle and aching just a little with every beat. But now it was perfectly centered and beating freely—a sensation that was both new and thrilling.

She'd thought this whole time she would remain an outsider among these women, but she knew now that their similarities far outweighed their differences. It didn't matter if she didn't get married or if she never had kids, because she could feel the strength of this group's bond, and that was far more powerful.

And, sure, there could be moments when she might doubt her place in this tapestry of relationships. But she wouldn't push these women away because of them. In the end the doubt didn't matter, because she knew herself what
she
would do. If Anna or Stephanie or Betty or any of them called her at three in the morning, she'd jump out of bed and use every ounce of strength she had and every single resource at her disposal to help them. To have Callie as a living reminder of that—of what they were capable of when they stood by each other—was breathtaking.

The group took turns bending down to kiss Willa and the baby until the nurses insisted that they'd made enough concessions and the group had to go home. Visiting hours had ended almost a half hour ago.

They shared a last round of hugs, then headed to their respective cars and into the cold, crisp winter night. Betty gave Casey a lift home, smiling slightly as she pulled into the driveway.

“So Abe gets out of the hospital tomorrow, eh?”

Casey nodded. Her stomach twisted at the thought. Tomorrow. Everything in her life could change—or precisely nothing could.

“Thanks,” Casey said after a moment, “for everything today. Talking, getting me to the hospital, the whole bit.”

Betty's face softened. “No sweat. I'll be thinking about you. Hoping things go okay.”

Casey stared out the front windshield at her house, dark and quiet and peaceful. “I'll keep you posted. I mean, the group. I suppose it will come out at the next recipe exchange.”

Betty snorted. “I don't think you'll have to say much.”

“What do you mean?”

Betty winked at her. “It'll be pretty obvious. You'll either have that glowy I've-had-a-lot-of-sex look, or you won't.”

“Betty!” Casey touched her face self-consciously. “I do not get any such look.”

Betty's eyes locked with Casey's. There was more laughter there than Casey would have liked. “Okay,” she said slowly, “whatever you say.”

Casey pulled down the visor and flipped up the mirror. “Do I have it now?” she asked, tilting her head to the left and the right, remembering the handcuffs from earlier in the day.

Her cheeks pinked at the vivid images that flashed through her mind.

“I'll give you three guesses and the first two don't count,” Betty said, laughing.

Casey slapped the visor back into place. She could feel the smile starting on her own face. “All right. Point taken,” she said, opening the door. She thanked Betty again and watched her friend back out of the driveway, swearing she could still hear the other woman cackling as she pulled away into the silent, snowy night.

A
be signed the release form so quickly his signature was more of a ragged line than an actual name. He touched the bandages around his neck where the worst of his injuries lay hidden under gauze and tape. The pain wasn't bad, but there might be scarring. He grimaced, thinking about the scars in addition to his mangled nose. God, he was practically a beast.

He'd take it, though. He'd been lucky in that fire. Both he and Reese had. The fact that they were each going home with nothing but a few white bandages on their bodies was nothing short of a miracle.

What's more, this beast had found his beauty.

He stepped out of the hospital and into the morning, the sky turning a pale yellow to the east. It was early, barely eight o'clock, but he was still headed over to Casey's first thing.

His fiancée.

He could barely keep the grin off his face at the thought. He'd gotten the details about its origins out of the nurse—how they weren't going to let Casey in to see him, but she'd adamantly claimed they were going to be hitched—and when the nurse had offered Abe a quizzical look about it all, he had confirmed the story, same as he had to his parents. “It happened recently, but it definitely happened. We're thinking May for the wedding.”

It was a lie, as blazing white as a single untruth could be. He'd told it because acrid smoke from the fire was still rolling around in his lungs, he could still taste it when he breathed, and he wanted to pretend for a while that he had lived his life differently up until now: That he'd been bold and brave enough to give his heart to someone, and that someone had come to see him in the hospital.

It was pure fantasy, of course. Casey didn't want to marry him, she only wanted to bang him. Yet there'd been something different about her when she'd showed up at the foot of his bed yesterday. The look on her face had been so pained, so pale and drawn, it had sucked all the air right from his lungs. If he didn't know better, he'd say she had been downright worried about him. Although worried wasn't right. She had been
distraught
.

And Casey wouldn't get that way about him unless there were strong feelings churning through her. Feelings she was acting on and not running from, for once.

He hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected her to rush into his arms like that. He hadn't expected her to go along with the engagement story for one second longer than she absolutely had to.

But she had done all those things and more. She'd looked at him so tenderly, so full of affection, that for the first time he actually had hope about their future together. Finally, maybe Casey was allowing herself to feel all the emotions that he knew were there—the same ones that pounded through them both when they were in bed together.

Maybe she was done hammering her heart into oblivion. Maybe she was ready to be honest about what was happening between them.

He knew they still had so much to talk about to ensure this was the path that made sense. But after this many years staring down dangerous situations, Abe knew when things were perilous or messed up, and when they were right.

And this—it wasn't just right. This had the calm and the peace of something clicking into place with staunch finality. This was true north.

This was forever.

The only remaining question was whether Casey would see it that way, too.

Casey stared at the text on her phone.

I'm coming over.

It was Abe.

It wasn't a question.

She clutched her mug of coffee more tightly as she sat at the kitchen counter. Her body ached from tossing and turning the night before. She'd stared at her plaster ceiling for hours, catching the far-off sound of a dog barking, the slam of a car door. But mostly it was only Casey and the pressing silence, deep and empty enough to have her thoughts echoing in her brain.

She loved Abe Cameron.

She wanted to be with him.

She might not get what she wanted.

Casey rubbed her eyes. She'd been over this a thousand times. She was exhausted. The thing she needed now was Abe. She closed her eyes, imagining them back in bed, all hot skin and twisted sheets. As much as she'd love a physical release right now, the thing she needed more was an emotional one. Her heart was filled to bursting, and if she didn't find out now whether she and Abe stood a chance, it might not keep beating at all.

When she heard the Jeep pull into the driveway, she exhaled, long and slow. She didn't even wait for Abe to ring the bell. She pulled open the door and took in every one of his steps as he walked toward her, the bandages around his neck bright and white in the cold morning.

The blood pounded in her temples with a force that made her faint. Her fingers twitched, wanting to curl into his hair, wanting to pull his forehead against hers and let their lips fit together like she knew they did.

He wore an expression she couldn't place. She wasn't sure what to expect as his long legs devoured the space between them, but when he didn't stop until he was nearly on top of her—when his broad chest was against hers and his strong arms were wrapped around her—she relaxed so deeply her legs almost gave out. She hadn't felt like this since he'd left for the fire.

Maybe she hadn't felt like this ever.

They needed to talk. They had things to discuss. She knew this when he pulled her close and his mouth found hers with a heat that scalded her insides. But instead she met his need with her own, using her tongue and lips to tell him what she'd had such trouble putting into words. She'd missed him. She was so glad he was safe. She loved him.

Her fingers snaked along the corded muscles of his shoulders, up to the bandages on his neck, where they lingered delicately. Her muscles tensed at the thought of him hurt. And the awful truth that he might be hurt again. She couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't be. But she would take this day—heck, this minute and this second—and be grateful if it meant she could love him, and he would love her back.

“Abe,” she murmured into his skin. They broke apart and he fixed her with a stare that was so flamed with feeling she wondered if parts of her weren't melting. “We should go inside. The neighbors might be watching us.”

He smiled then, the lines around his eyes deepening. “Let them. I want them to see.”

“You want to show off that you can make out like a teenager on my front stoop?”

“No. I want the whole neighborhood—hell, the whole world—to know how I feel about you.” He kissed her again, deep and electric, and she shuddered with the hot spark of it. His palm was on the back of her neck, guiding her to him, closer and closer. She let herself get pulled in by the glorious undertow of his tongue mingling with hers, his teeth gently nipping at her lip, his breath warm and sweet.

Somehow, after she thought she might pass out from the sheer pleasure of all of it, Abe pulled her inside. She was dazed, following him as he led the way to the kitchen. Part of her kiss-numbed brain wondered if they might go straight to the bedroom, but then she remembered how much they had to talk about. How much there was to say to him.

The thought had ice-cold clarity chilling her. She blinked, pulling out a stool as Abe helped himself to some coffee. “I could use a pick-me-up. The hospital's java was more like tea. Weak tea. Warm tap water, really.”

He grinned and Casey found herself smiling back, relaxing into the reality that he was
here
. He was in her kitchen. He was right in front of her. She took a deep breath.

“I'm so glad you're here, Abe, standing in my kitchen. When I heard about that fire yesterday, the only thing I could think of was what would happen if you didn't make it out.”

Abe lowered himself onto a stool. The blond hairs of his forearms were golden in the morning light as he held his coffee mug. “And what would have happened?” he asked. “To you, I mean.” There was an anxious note in his voice that surprised her.

“If you hadn't made it out of that fire, then part of me wouldn't have made it out, either. It made me realize how much I care for you. All this time, I thought being with you was just about the list. But I was so wrong. Being with you is about being with the person that makes me happiest in this world.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand. His eyes tracked across her face, intent with feeling. “I care for you, too, Casey. I think I have since that first day in the elevator, even though I went about it all wrong for a while there. I know you didn't want a relationship—hell, neither did I—but this is right.
We're
right.”

“That's just it,” Casey replied, blinking back tears. At how easily all this could fall apart in the next few moments. “It seems that way, but it might not be.”

“How so?”

“I can change my mind about a lot of things, but not about wanting kids. Not kids of my own, anyway. The situation with Carter has me thinking that fostering someone in need could be wonderful, but I know that's not an option everyone considers to be for them. Meaning…” She took another deep breath. “We may want different things in the end. And if that's the case, I want to be up-front about it now, and not two or ten years from now, when suddenly we resent each other because neither of us has what they were hoping for.”

Abe put a hand on her cheek. She leaned into his touch. “Listen,” he said gently, “I've always said you've been honest with what you wanted. I love that about you, Casey. Frankly, I just love you, period. You've changed what I see when I look ahead. For so long I tried to control what the future could be. But now the only thing I see is you, and it's more than enough. You're all that matters. Everything else is negotiable.”

“But not
kids.
Surely you—”

“
Yes
, kids. If you're with me, then we're a family. That's enough. Fostering on top of that sounds amazing, actually. Helping kids that are already in this world would be an incredible opportunity. But only if we're in it together. That's the bottom line.”

Casey's whole body trembled. It couldn't be that simple, could it?

“Abe, I just don't…”

She wasn't sure how to finish. She didn't know how to trust that he was being sincere. She didn't know how to believe him at his word.

He must have read the doubt and confusion on her face. He must have known that her thoughts were warbling with uncertainty. And he must have known that the way to tell her was through her heart, which was already beating with hope.

He left his stool to stand in front of her, his hands cupping her face tenderly. “I won't hurt you, Casey. I won't let you down. You have to believe that.” He kissed her, his lips ardent and sure. His cinnamon smell was fire and warmth inside her. His honesty, his firm truth, was evident as his muscled arms wrapped around her.

“I love you,” she whispered. “But I don't know if it's enough.”

“It's not,” he said, pulling back so he could gaze into her eyes. “But we're not relying on just that. We're being real with one another. This is bare, raw honesty. It's brutal in a way. I know I could walk away right now if this wasn't what I wanted. But I'm telling you, this is it. You're it for me, Casey. Am I it for you?”

She tipped back her head to take him in, feeling dizzy with the sensations coursing through her. Joy. Trust.
Love.
“Yes,” she whispered, “you're it.”

He crushed her against him then. She could feel his heart hammering though his shirt. The rhythm was a drumbeat of belief that whatever came next, they could tackle it together. She let its steady cadence infuse her with hope, with certainty, with
faith
.

His lips found hers in a breathless kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to be careful of his neck and the bandages there. Fireworks of feeling were exploding in her chest. She gasped as he nibbled on her ear and her whole body ricocheted with feeling. The emotion was rolling and building, a snowball growing as it tumbled down a mountain.

As if she'd read his mind, Abe ran a calloused finger down her cheek, along her neck, straight through the gap between her breasts and down to her belly. She shuddered, clinging to him for support. “Come with me,” he murmured, grasping her wrist and tugging her gently toward the bedroom.

She couldn't have argued if she wanted to. He led the way to her bed, where a bright patch of winter light radiated on the bedspread, as if calling to them, pointing the way to where they both already wanted to go. Abe pulled his shirt off, leaving only his white bandages in stark contrast to his honey-colored skin. The sight made her ache.

She touched her fingers to the gauze. “I hate that you were hurt. I don't want to lose you, Abe.”

“You won't,” he said, trailing kisses from her jaw to her forehead. “You never will. Even if I'm gone, I'll still be with you.”

She knew it was true as she let him peel off her shirt, unhook her bra, and help her out of her jeans and panties. She was laid bare, naked not just physically but emotionally as well. She was exhibiting her heart right along with her body, and it was all for the taking. By Abe. No more rules, no more control. Whatever happened next was out of her hands, and into
their
hands.

“I can't believe you're so beautiful,” Abe murmured, trailing his fingers from her hips to her thighs. Her body tingled. “How did I end up here?”

Casey smiled. “I know. Part of me feels like I'm dreaming as well.”

Abe cupped her breasts in both hands. He arced a thumb over each nipple, and her every muscle tightened. “Do you still think you're dreaming?” he asked. Hot heat spread through her.

“Mmmm,” she answered as he lowered his head to suckle on one nipple, then the other. His touch was the perfect blend of gentleness and passion, tenderness and flame. “I don't think I want to wake up.”