Letting Go (20 page)

“Can I have a few minutes with her?” she asked, her eyes on the headstone.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be over there, okay?” he said as he motioned to a bench at the end of the row. Devlin left her and sat down. He couldn’t hear her from where he sat but he could see her face. She bent down and brushed some of the snow off the top of the headstone and then dropped to her knees in front of it. She started talking and occasionally shook her head or gestured with her hands. At one point, she started to cry. Feeling like he was intruding, he averted his eyes. Nearly twenty minutes passed before she finally stood, picked up one of the flowers from the ground, placed it on top of the headstone and then made her way towards him.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he led the way back to the car. All she did was nod. The ride home was quiet but she seemed less tense now. He wondered what was going through her mind but knew she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Pulling the car into the driveway of the townhouse, he got out and followed her to the front door. She stopped so suddenly that he nearly ran into her. She turned to face him and then looked at him as if she were debating something. Finally, she did the last thing he had expected. She hugged him. As his arms went around her, she whispered, “Thank you” into his ear and kissed him lightly on the cheek. With that, she pulled from his embrace and went into the house.

***

As the holiday drew near the Prescott household was a flurry of activity. Devlin was spending more and more time at home instead of work and Casey found herself missing him when he did leave to spend a few hours at the office or to attend a business function. Now instead of dread whenever she heard his voice as he entered the house, she felt her stomach tighten nervously and an ache took hold in her chest. She even found herself starting to worry when he was gone longer than he’d said he’d be. But most surprising was what she felt when he accidentally brushed up against her or briefly touched her in greeting. Gone was the nausea and distress and in its place was something warm and soft…something she wanted more of every day.

A couple of days before Christmas she jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with him when he asked her to spend the day shopping with him for presents for the kids. He took her to dinner afterwards which she had been thoroughly enjoying until they were unexpectedly joined by Ingrid Wells, the blonde who’d been draped all over Devlin at the hospital dinner weeks earlier, and her husband, Richard. The waiter, assuming they were all friends, offered to push tables together so they could dine together and before anyone could decline Ingrid had said yes and plopped down in the seat next to Devlin. Sitting next to Richard, Casey actually enjoyed chatting with him. At least twenty years older than his pretty wife, he was soft spoken and extremely refined. When her eyes drifted across the table to where Ingrid hung on Devlin’s every word and used every opportunity to touch his arm or slide her hand underneath the safety of tablecloth, Casey saw red and a surprise bout of jealously went through her along with pity for Richard who appeared to be none the wiser.

“So Casey, I hear you and Devlin met in Paris while you were studying art,” came Ingrid’s husky voice.

“That’s right,” Casey responded politely, wondering what was coming next.

“Tell me, where is it that you studied exactly?” she inquired, the challenge clear in her voice.

Casey saw that Devlin was prepared to jump in so she spoke before he had the chance. “The Academie des Beaux Arts des Paris.” Devlin and Ingrid both stared at her when the words flowed flawlessly from her lips. As Casey asked Ingrid a question in French, Devlin nearly choked on his wine.

“Um, I’m afraid I don’t speak French,” stammered Ingrid in response.

“Oh, what a pity. It is such a beautiful language. Of course, I’ve always favored Italian myself.” In Italian, Casey directed another question at Ingrid. When the flabbergasted woman could only sit there, her husband piped in.

“She was asking if you spoke Italian and had you ever had the pleasure of visiting Italy, dear.” Richard gave Casey a smile and then began conversing with her in Italian. Ingrid fumed and drained the wine from her glass before excusing herself. Devlin stifled a smile as he politely stood and assisted Ingrid with her chair.

***

“How did you do that?” asked Devlin as they climbed into the back of the limo.

“Do what?” she asked. Still in a state of shock, he missed the irritation in her voice.

“Where the hell did you learn to speak French and Italian?”

“Jonas taught me.”

“Jonas?”

“Yeah, Jonas. His mother is French, his father Italian. Jonas knew how embarrassed I was by my lack of a high school education so he wanted me to be able to do something that not everyone can do. I’m not fluent or anything and it was nice of Richard not to point out my mistakes.”

“And the art school?”

“Jonas again. He always dreamed of attending that school – he used to talk about it all the time.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“You’ve seen how we live. We could barely scrape enough together to pay for his correspondence classes so he could get his GED.”

He was about to remind her of the money he was paying her but thought better of it. She’d never actually agreed to accept the money. “What about his parents?”

“They kicked him out when he was fourteen. He hasn’t spoken to them since.”

“Why’d they kick him out?”

“Why do you think?”

Devlin finally caught the anger in her clipped responses. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She had her arms folded over her chest, her legs crossed and her eyes staring out the window.

“Come on, spit it out.”

She was quiet for so long that he didn’t think she was going to answer him. “If you want to spend time with your girlfriend you shouldn’t come up with these elaborate schemes so you two can “run” into each other and you certainly shouldn’t pull me into it” she finally snapped.

“Girlfriend? What-” he stopped as it dawned on him. “You mean Ingrid?”

“It’s one thing to flaunt your relationship with her in public but it’s something else when you do it right in front of her husband who is too sweet to even notice what’s going on.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked in growing annoyance.

“Do you think people didn’t notice the way you danced with her at the hospital dinner? And tonight with her hand disappearing under the table every five seconds? I always assumed men in your class had more manners…and taste.”

Devlin shifted on his seat to face her. “You think there is something going on between myself and Ingrid Wells?”

Casey shook her head in exasperation. “Please spare me the dramatics. I’m not blind.”

“All right, you want the truth?”

She turned to look at him. “Your social life, Mr. Prescott, is of little concern to me. I merely asked that you keep your tramp from trying to bait me in the future.”

“So we’re back to Mr. Prescott again?” She turned back to the window. It was then that he realized what was really bothering her. “You’re jealous.”

She snapped her gaze back to his and let out a pathetic laugh. “Hardly,” she quipped.

Devlin was nearly giddy. “That’s it, you’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous! To be jealous, I’d have to have some interest in you which I don’t!” Her words sound hollow and pathetic even to her own ears.

It was then that the limo pulled to a stop in front of the townhouse. Casey climbed out before the driver could come around to open the door. Devlin scrambled after her, a huge grin on his face. “Casey, wait!”

Casey’s progress up the icy walkway was slow due to a fresh layer of snow. She heard him trying to catch up with her.

“Admit it, you’re jealous!” he yelled from behind her. Devlin glanced down to watch where he was walking. The instant he looked up again, he felt a snowball slam into his chest and the splattering snow drenched his face. Another one immediately followed it. He looked up to see Casey rapidly rolling a third snowball. Before he could reach her, he saw the kids come running out of the townhouse with hastily thrown on jackets and gloves. Sampson was right behind them. They immediately took up Casey’s cause and he was forced to seek shelter along with the confused limo driver behind the safety of the sleek black car. Devlin gathered a fistful of snow and made several snowballs. He looked at the limo driver crouched next to him and said, “Cover me, I’m going in.”

On Christmas Eve, Casey had every intention of spending the evening in her room wrapping the presents she had bought for Isabel and Ryan. But she soon found herself being ushered downstairs by the children to partake in the Prescott night before Christmas tradition of hot chocolate, Christmas stories, and the allowance of opening one present for each of the children. Devlin’s parents had already arrived. Marilyn was busy admiring the tree and Sean was helping his son build the perfect fire.

At Casey’s entrance, Marilyn gave her a warm hug and explained, “Casey, the tree is absolutely beautiful. Devlin has always had those stuffy, professionally decorated, artificial trees in the past.” She made a face at the memory and then glanced at the tree again. “How did you manage it?”

Embarrassed to admit that she hadn’t given Devlin a choice in the matter, Casey awkwardly mumbled, “Well, the kids did most of the work.”

“Can we open our presents now?” interjected Isabel. The little girl was wearing a red velvet dress with white lace trim. Her hair was a riot of blond curls. Ryan was dressed like his father in slacks and a crisp dress shirt.

“Not yet. We have to read the Christmas story first, remember?” said Marilyn as she led the children to the couch where Sampson had already taken his place on the floor. The next few hours of Casey’s life were ones that she knew she would remember forever. Isabel sat on Devlin’s lap and Ryan leaned against his father during Sean’s reading of the Christmas Story. Marilyn sat next to her husband, her clear eyes full of love as she watched her husband read the pages in front of him. When it was time to open the singular present, each child dug in with fervor. Wrapping paper went flying in all directions and delighted smiles were on everyone’s face.

Emotion clogged her throat as Casey watched the scene – this was what it should have been like for her and Amanda when they were little. She shook off the moment of sadness and smiled at the chaotic scene in front of her. It was then that she saw Devlin watching her. She forced her eyes back to the children but felt his gaze remain on her. She wanted to just sit and look her fill of him but she forced herself to stay focused on the kids. It was okay for her to pretend that this was her family for a while but she had to remember that this wasn’t home. She didn’t belong here. She repeated the thought over and over in her mind but the warmth in her heart kept spreading throughout her body.

Once the children had gone to bed and Devlin’s parents had left for home, Casey found herself cleaning up the discarded wrapping paper. When Devlin returned to the room after seeing his parents off, he helped her with the task. She tried to excuse herself but his words stopped her.

“The kids will probably be up early so I hope you don’t mind. We usually do presents first and then have breakfast when my parents arrive which should be around nine or so.”

“I’ll just leave their presents under the tree tonight then.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re tired. Just do it in the morning.”

“No, I don’t want to disturb you and your family. I’ll do it now.” As she turned to go, Devlin stayed her by taking hold of her hand.

“What do you mean you don’t want to disturb us?”

“Well, Christmas is a time for family-” she began.

“Are you saying you won’t be joining us?” he asked incredulously. It had never occurred to him that she wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with them. Before she could respond he continued. “We want you with us Casey. The kids need you there…I need you there. Please.” She hesitated for a long time before finally nodding. “Good.” He started to release her hand but decided against it. “You know, there’s nothing between Ingrid Wells and me…not for a long time now. We were together for a little while after my wife died and before she married Richard but it didn’t mean anything.”

“It really isn’t any of my business,” she croaked.

Devlin nodded. “I know. I just wanted you to know.”

She was quiet for a second and then said, “Good night Devlin.” But he still hadn’t released her hand and she found that she didn’t want him to. His eyes dropped to her lips briefly and then suddenly his mouth was on hers. She felt his arms close around her waist as he pulled her firmly against his body.  His mouth slanted over hers and she was stunned by the heat running through her veins.  She held onto the arms that were wrapped tightly around her.

“Let me in” he breathed against her lips. He ran his tongue gently along the seam of her lips and then groaned when she opened her mouth. His tongue swept into her mouth and took possession of it.

Devlin’s body was on fire as he took control of the kiss and dominated her mouth. He heard her whimper and then felt her arms close around his shoulders. He nearly shouted in victory when she pressed herself closer to him and her body lined up perfectly with his. But when she tentatively stroked his tongue with her own and then finally kissed him back he had to lock his knees to stay standing. Her inexperience with kissing was obvious but instead of turning him off it made his body explode with need. His fingers skimmed along the skin of her back where her shirt had ridden up and he felt her tense when he brushed over the scars there. But she didn’t break the contact. When they finally were forced to break the kiss to draw in air he used the opportunity to run kisses along her jawline, neck and shoulder. He heard her gasp and then felt her fingers digging into his upper back.

“You taste so sweet” he whispered before he claimed her lips again. She welcomed him immediately and dueled with him for control of the kiss. He let the kiss go on for several moments before finally pulling back from her slightly.  The instant he did she followed him so he kissed her again briefly before putting his cheek against hers and softly saying “Good night Casey.”

She took in several shaky breaths before finally pulling back. The combination of wonder and desire in her eyes made him want to put his mouth back on her but she seemed to finally come to her senses and she stepped away from him.

“Good night Devlin” she said with a wobbly smile as she briefly touched her lips with her fingers, turned on her heel and hurried out of the room.

***

The next morning, the first thing Casey felt was Sampson’s wet tongue on her cheek. The dog was spread out in his usual spot next to her but this time he was awake, as was the little girl sitting next to him.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” chanted Isabel as she climbed over Sampson’s body and then Casey’s in an effort to get off the bed and out of the door more quickly. Sampson’s big body lumbered over her and off the bed as he followed the little girl from the room. Casey stretched and rolled over. She hadn’t slept more than an hour or two but this time it hadn’t been nightmares that kept her up. Devlin’s kisses had left her shattered.

He’d been so gentle and so demanding at the same time. The kiss had completely consumed her and when it was over she had wanted more. And when he had touched her back she had waited for the nausea to come but all she felt was heat burning through her. When she pressed herself to him she could feel his hardness and instead of scaring her it had made her burn with her own need. It was all so new and both frightening and amazing at the same time and she couldn’t help but wonder what it all meant. And how could she give this up when it was time for her to go? How could she go back to her old life after this was over? She realized sadly that it wouldn’t be an issue because once Devlin found out the secrets she was still keeping from him he’d walk away and never look back.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her door swung open without even the benefit of a knock. Still dressed in pajamas, Ryan tore into the room and said, “Come on Casey. Daddy says we have to wait for you!”

“Okay, I’m coming.” The little boy wasn’t satisfied with the response until he saw her actually get out of bed. Then he ran out of the room, leaving the door wide open. She smiled and quickly went in search of something suitable to wear to a family gathering for a family that would never be hers.

***

As Casey made her way down the stairs, she noticed Sampson standing outside Devlin’s study. She called the dog who let off a whine before finally following her into the living room. Once there, the kids waited only long enough for her to actually step foot into the room before attacking the mound of presents in front of each of them. She placed her presents on their massive piles and then went to sit next to Devlin on the couch. She avoided direct eye contact and wondered if she was blushing because her face suddenly felt warm.

“Coffee?” he asked. She nodded her head and watched as he prepared the cup exactly the way she liked it. When she took the cup from him, his fingers brushed lightly over hers. A jolt of electricity shot through her and she tightened her grip on the cup so she wouldn’t drop it.

“You okay?” he asked, a trace of amusement in his eyes.

“Fine,” she sputtered.

“Merry Christmas Casey,” he said softly.

“Merry Christmas,” she returned before forcing her gaze to the children.

When it was all over, there was wrapping paper everywhere. Ryan and Isabel were delighted by their gifts and had given Devlin and Casey swift hugs before immersing themselves in their new toys. Devlin started collecting the paper and shoving it into a garbage bag. Casey glanced at her watch. It was nearly 8:30.

“Ryan, Isabel, are you ready?” The kids glanced at her, realized what she was asking, and then nodded brightly.

“Ready for what?” asked Devlin.

“Ryan and Isabel have a present for you.”

“Come on Daddy,” Ryan said as he took his father’s hand and led him to the front door. Isabel took his other hand. They stopped only to collect their jackets and then pulled Devlin out the front door.

Once outside, they released their hold on Devlin. Casey moved past him and walked with the children down the walkway. It was then that Devlin noticed a yellow cab parked on the street in front of the house. Casey went to the cab and opened the door. Isabel climbed in followed by Sampson and then Casey and to Devlin’s amazement Ryan climb in after them and closed the door. He could have sworn he heard singing coming from inside the car. Tears stung his eyes as the cab moved down the street several hundred yards, turned around in a driveway and came back. Devlin hurried down the walkway as the cab rolled to a stop in front of the townhouse again. His son climbed out of the car and came barreling at him.

He scooped his son into his arms and held him. “Ryan, I am so proud of you son!”

“I helped too!” shouted Isabel. Devlin bent down and took her in his other arm. When he saw Casey’s form come into view, he looked up at her.

“How?” was all his hoarse voice managed to spit out.

“Lots and lots of practice…and cab fare,” she said with a smile. “Your son is a brave little boy. And,” she said looking at Isabel, “we couldn’t have done it without Isabel’s help.”

Devlin released his grip on the children and stood. He lifted his gloved hand to Casey’s cheek and said, “Thank you.” He pulled her into his embrace and held her as he whispered the words again. When he finally released her, her cheeks were flaming.

“We thought maybe we could go to your mom and dad’s parish for services today. Your mother said that you used to go to that one every Sunday before the accident. Ryan’s not quite up to riding in anything but a taxi but that should be okay, right?” she asked.

Devlin was still too overwhelmed to be much use to anyone so he just said, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

The group made their way back into the house. The kids dumped their coats and gloves on the floor and rushed back to the living room. Casey hung up their coats and her own. When she closed the door and turned, Devlin was there, an expression of wonder on his face. He slowly closed the distance between them and then leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t like the searching, desperate kiss from the night before. This one was slow and soft and ended too quickly.

“I have something for you,” he said as he led her to the study.

Still reeling from the kiss, she let him lead her into the room. Sitting in the leather chair behind Devlin’s desk was Jonas. Casey let out a surprised cry of delight as Jonas came around the desk and pulled her into his arms.

“Hey girl, how’ve you been?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, when a limo pulls up to your front door at four o clock on Christmas morning, you don’t ask questions; you just pack and get in. Did you know he’s got his own jet?” said Jonas in amazement.

Casey laughed and then turned to Devlin and hugged him. “Thank you Devlin. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He reluctantly released her and said, “Why don’t you guys visit for a while? Breakfast will be in about twenty minutes or so.”

To Jonas’s surprise, Casey turned back to him and hugged him again. “I can’t believe you’re really here.” Jonas wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” She pulled out of his embrace but instead of moving away from him, she grabbed his hand and led him to the couch and sat down. “How’s everything back home?” she asked. The next twenty minutes were a question and answer session of the goings on at the shelter. Before they had a chance to delve deeper into their conversation, they were called to breakfast and then on their way to the church services with Devlin, the children and his parents. Sean and Marilyn were equally shocked and delighted to find that their grandson had overcome his fear of riding in cars. The rest of the day was spent helping the children figure out the inner workings of their toys and preparing the Christmas dinner. Throughout it all, Jonas’s sharp eyes picked up every detail. The long looks between Casey and Devlin, the warmth of the family atmosphere, the open adoration the children had for Casey, Sampson’s acceptance into the household. It all made Jonas long for something he had never had. But more than anything, he saw the smile on Casey’s face. It wasn’t just a fleeting, polite response to another person’s question or comment – it was a constant fixture on her face and Jonas could only wonder what had put it there.