Single and Searching (13 page)

Gabe cupped her chin in his hand. "No. I really am sorry about that article."

"I know." She sipped her coffee. "I realize how important your work is, too. Have you ever bypassed a story because you thought it might hurt someone?"

Gabe frowned. Was she talking about the personal ad piece or the ABC story? "I try to report the truth," he said, being as honest as he could.

"Mommy, wead." Henry S. slapped the book into Casey's hands interrupting them.

"Henry S., what's the magic word?" Casey asked.

"Pwease." Henry S. thumped his finger on the book.

"I'll do it," Gabe offered. "That just happens to be my favorite story. I do a mean train imitation, sport."

Henry S. climbed into Gabe's lap, and he opened the book, then started to read.

Casey blinked back tears. The two of them looked so cozy together. One day Henry S. would realize his father was missing from his life. Then what would she tell him? The truth, that his father had wanted him, but for the wrong reasons? No child should have to hear that.

Gabe pumped his arm up and down, imitating a train's horn.

Henry S. giggled and copied the motion.

Casey's heart warmed. Gabe would make a wonderful father. But was she becoming attached to him just because he was potential daddy material?

No. She and Gabe shared an obvious physical attraction. Neither one of them could deny that. And they also shared the same favorite childhood story. It was a small thing to have in common, but to Casey, an important one.

She'd carried a tattered copy of the book with her when she'd run away from home, and even when she'd been too old for the story, she'd still read it The famous passage "I think I can, I think I can," had become her mantra. That story also motivated her own interest in writing children's books. She hoped her books could offer something inspirational to children as well.

"He's falling asleep," Gabe whispered.

"I know. It's been a busy day. Here, I'll take him to bed." Casey started to take Henry S., but Gabe stood.

"Show me where his room is." He cradled Henry S. to his him as if he weighed nothing, and Casey envied Henry S. Henry S. looked so small, Gabe so loving and protective.

Loving and protective? When did she start having those thoughts? Gabe's entire persona radiated danger and sex appeal, not warm and fuzzy or happily-ever-after.

"Which way?" Gabe asked.

"The first room." Casey hurried in front of Gabe to turn down the covers.

"He doesn't sleep in a crib?" Gabe asked.

Casey shook her head. "He kept climbing over the rails. I was afraid he'd fall and hurt himself. One night I got up and almost tripped over him. He was sound asleep on the bathroom floor."

Gabe chuckled. "He's a handful, isn't he?"

"That's putting it mildly." Casey tucked the covers around Henry S. and kissed him. She tiptoed back into the den, her heart fluttering as Gabe followed.

It was time to get Gabe out of her house before temptation won. Sharing coffee, a cozy fire, and a bedtime story with him had fueled dangerous fantasies for her, ones she knew couldn't come true. She didn't just want to make love to Gabe, she wanted to make a family with him.

Which would never happen.

But Gabe cut off Casey's words by drawing her into his arms and covering her mouth with his. Tenderly, he traced his tongue over her lips, probing her lips apart with his tongue. Casey swallowed her protests and opened her mouth, inviting his tongue inside. Need and desire spiraled through her.

"I've been wanting to do this since the moment I saw you tonight," Gabe whispered.

Casey leaned into him, her pulse pounding. "Out there in the rain?"

Gabe nodded. "Yes, even out there." His hands tunneled through her hair. One hand cupped her face, tilting her mouth for his invasion.

Casey's laughter died, her entire being succumbing to the passion Gabe ignited. She grew bold enough to kiss him back, to test her own tongue against his lips the way he had hers, to delve inside his mouth, seeking, yearning, wanting.

A low groan erupted from deep within him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. At the sound of his raw desire, Casey pressed her breasts against his bare chest. Gabe's fingers traced her shoulder blades, her arms, the small of her back, then the curve of her hips as he pulled her against his arousal.

"You taste like heaven, sweetheart." His hands were everywhere, kneading her hips, pressing her into his hard aching body, stroking her thighs. Shards of pleasure and heat raced through her everywhere he touched. Gently, his lips found her neck. He suckled the sensitive skin there and then traced the soft shell of her earlobe. One hand massaged the underside of her breasts, then shifted to cup her warm flesh. This time, Casey groaned and arched into him, begging for more.

"God, Casey, I want you," Gabe whispered. He fondled her breasts, then lowered his mouth to trace the swell of her cleavage, teasing her nipple with his tongue.

Casey's legs weakened. Clutching Gabe's arms for support, she reveled in the sensations he stirred within her. How could this be wrong when it felt so right?

A small beeping sound suddenly penetrated her senses. Casey's hands stilled in the thick waves of his hair, but Gabe tugged her nipple into his mouth, wetting her t-shirt with his tongue.

The sound beeped again. Casey pulled back. Gabe tensed.

"Damn."

"What is it?" Casey asked, still clutching his arms. Her pounding heart felt like it would explode, her body ached with unfulfilled needs.

Gabe rested his head against Casey's breast, and Casey felt his ragged breath beat against her shirt. "My damn phone," Gabe muttered.

"You have to answer it?" Casey whispered.

Reluctantly Gabe nodded then cupped Casey's face in his hands, brushed his lips gently across her cheek and kissed her soundly on the lips. "Don't move."

The moment he pulled away, Casey hugged her arms around herself, suddenly feeling empty, alone and embarrassed.
It's for the best, Casey, Something had to remind you to stop. Your brain must have fallen asleep. Your traitorous body certainly wasn't saying no.

In fact, her body yearned for more.

* * *

Gabe cursed the person who'd invented cell phones. Normally, he didn't mind being interrupted. Hank only called if he considered it important. But today, nothing seemed more important than Casey. She'd been melting in his arms, and the damn machine had interrupted it.

Quickly he punched Hank's number and peeked back at Casey. She looked tousled, aroused, sexy as hell, and scared to death.

Hell. He was in trouble here.

Shaken by the thought, he tore his gaze from her and focused on the magnetic alphabet letters stuck haphazardly to her refrigerator door. Something about them seemed familiar, but he couldn't budge the memory from his befuddled mind. He absentmindedly picked one up and rolled it between his fingers.

"Constitution,
Hank Thomas speaking."

"Hank, what's up?" His voice sounded like a growl, but he couldn't help it. He glanced at Casey. She'd pulled her knees up to her chin and wound a strand of hair around one finger. He realized she was starting to think.

Thinking was dangerous when a woman was involved. Right this moment, she was probably inventing a thousand excuses for him to leave.

"Someone left an envelope for you earlier. I think you should come by the office."

Gabe sighed in frustration. He didn't want to leave Casey. "Just open it."

"Are you sure?" Hank asked.

Casey stood and paced nervously. It could be confidential, but he trusted Hank. "Yes. Open it."

He heard paper ripping. "It's been typed on a computer. No name, no return address."

"Okay, give it to me." Gabe pulled out a notepad and pen.

Hank read, "I don't want to get involved but I think I witnessed a crime. I may have seen the alphabet thief."

Gabe sucked in a deep breath, once again staring at the magnetic letters.

They were the ABC robber's calling card.

Hank continued, "She was a small woman, about five feet two inches tall, shoulder-length blonde hair, and her eyes were this deep shade of blue, almost violet."

Gabe's stomach rolled. Hank had just described the woman he was about to make love to.

Chapter 6

Gabe hung up the phone.

Casey was innocent.

It had to be a mistake.

Lots of families had those magnetic letters. And hundreds of blonde-haired women lived in Atlanta, dozens with blue eyes. No, violet. The caller specifically described her eyes as violet.

Mentally he ticked off the facts of the case. Logic told him that she could be involved. She was alphabetically inclined. The first robberies occurred the week Casey's ad appeared in the paper. The areas hit spanned a ten-mile radius encompassing her house. And something strange was going on between her and that man, Travis. Now a possible witness had identified a woman matching Casey's description near one of the crime scenes.

Did the police have this information, too?

Gabe raked a hand through his hair in frustration. Of course, the call had been anonymous so someone could have described Casey to get back at her for some personal reason. But who would have a beef against her? She was a children's writer...

Everyone made mistakes, but he couldn't be wrong about Casey. Nothing on God's green earth could convince him she was a thief.

Any woman who saved worms and created beautiful children's books couldn't possibly be a criminal. Glancing up, he winced as she flashed him that sweet innocent smile. Guilt assaulted him for even considering the possibility of her involvement.

But what else could he do? Too many coincidences brought questions, and the coincidences pointed to Casey.

For a brief minute, he contemplated telling her, but decided even hinting that she was a suspect would upset her. She'd just begun to warm up to him after the article disaster. If he told her about this, she'd probably accuse him of using her for another story. If she knew he'd called Lt. Harper about her ad when he'd first spotted it, she'd assume he turned her in as a suspect.

No, he wouldn't tell her. Instead, he would track down the real thief before Casey found out.

Laden with misgivings, Gabe stuck the magnetic letter in his pocket. He could have Quickchange check the fingerprints against the ones found on the letters left at the crime scenes. It was sure to clear her.

He strode back into the den, confused and anxious. He didn't want to leave Casey. He wanted to make love to her.

Although guilt over not telling her the truth warned him to keep his distance. Time was of the essence. If Harper connected the witness's description to her before he discovered the real thief, Casey might be brought in for questioning.

Or worse, arrested.

"Gabe?" Casey's soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. She stood in front of him, her arms wrapped around her middle, looking like a last little girl and sexy as hell.

"I have to go," Gabe said.

"It's work?"

Something about her tone suggested she suspected a lie. Was he that easy to read? Did she think he'd leave her to go to another woman? Would she care if he did?

He offered her the only part of the truth he dared. "Yes. It's about a story I'm working on."

Casey nodded. "Thanks for the picnic."

He glanced back at the quilt and dwindling fire and swallowed hard. He wanted it all with Casey.

He didn't know exactly when it had happened, but he strongly suspected he was falling for her. She didn't fit any of the characteristics on his damn list, but he still craved her with an intensity that frightened him. If he misjudged her and she turned out to be involved in the robberies, her betrayal would destroy him.

"I'll call you."

Casey's look of disbelief tore at his soul. He had told dozens of women that before and not followed through, but this time he wasn't speaking empty words.

"Look, Casey," he whispered, pulling her back into his arms. "You have to trust me. I don't know when I'll be able to call. That was my boss on the phone. This story is important or I would never leave you."
You just don't know how important.

Gently, he grazed her lips with his own and covered one breast with his hand, squeezing her flesh through her shirt and teasing her nipple. He wanted the gesture to remind her of the moments before his phone interrupted them. He wanted her to remember their passion and dream about the time when they could fulfill their fantasies.

"I
will
call, sweetheart." Tilting her chin up, he forced her to look into his eyes. "And next time, nothing is going to stop us."

Before he persuaded himself not to leave, he stuffed his feet in his wet shoes, grabbed his shirt, kissed her and walked out the door.

* * *

"He's not going to call," Casey said.

Jill muttered a curse about men, picked up a tray filled with tea glasses covered in watermelon designs and carried it outside to the patio.

"Don't give up so easily. It's only been four days." Jenna followed Casey carrying a shallow pan filled with paint. "What's this for anyway?"