My Mistake (Stories of Serendipity #7) (4 page)

After lighting some scented candles and meditating on some positive images, she decided to try something her mama practiced. When you feel bad, dress like you’re a million bucks. So, Casey pulled out her pencil skirt and a white silk tank, and then got on her hands and knees to search for her patent leather stilettos in the bottom of her closet.

She pulled out every pair of shoes she owned before finally giving up and settling on a pair of red peep-toed stilettos with bows on the heels. It was strange that she couldn’t find the black ones, she clearly remembered packing them. She’d wrapped them in a silk slip to keep them from scuffing before putting them inside a box. And the box was sitting right there, empty.

Oh well, she’d worry about it another time. Today was not the day for negativity, she reminded herself as she pulled out a set of red lace underwear and matching bra.

Shoes and underwear were her only real vanities. She’d discovered the power of them in her early college years. A girl really only needed the right foundation to feel pretty, and today she needed to feel pretty. Looking at the final product in the mirror, she decided she looked like a slutty marketing executive, but she was working from home today, so it wouldn’t really matter.

Her silk tank top was tucked into the pencil skirt that hit below her knees, but had a slit in the back, almost to her rear. She could see the lacy outline of the red bra through the silk of the tank, and she knew that if she were going to work, she would pair it with her cropped bolo jacket, buttoned up to hide the bra. The red heels were a lovely pop of color that matched her carefully applied lipstick. She smiled at the effect before turning to the drafting table set up in the corner of her bedroom.

If only Brent could see her now, he realize he’d made a mistake brushing her off yesterday. He’d made an even bigger one brushing her off all those years ago.

Big mistake.

Her mind drifted into the past, beyond the painful brush-off, to a pleasant memory of Brent the night at her parents’ cabin when they’d had the bonfire. Cabin was a nice term for the ramshackle structure with no electricity, although it did have running water. With just the one bed and a trundle underneath, it was a cramped, one-room affair her dad had an on-going love-affair with. It appealed to his ‘macho’ side, and Casey dreaded their yearly “vacations” to the spot, where her dad spent the days drunk with a fishing pole, while her mother did her best to make the best of everything.

The summer she was fourteen, her parents had let her bring Summer and Brent, although Brent could only come for a couple of days during the week for some reason. The girls had elected to sleep outside, under the stars, to get out of the cramped confines of the house, with her father’s incessant alcohol-induced snoring.

Brent had arrived late that night, after driving all day to and from his cousin’s house, a couple of hours away, to a raging bonfire the girls had built.

While memories of the cabin were often stressful, what with avoiding her father being a prominent memory of the place, this particular memory was one of the few Casey cherished.

When Brent finally got there, he’d plunked his sleeping bag down next to Casey’s and the firelight reflecting off his face emphasized his bone structure, still a boy’s face, and took her breath away. He was seventeen, too old for her, and his face had matured quite a bit since she’d first seen him when she was nine. It still held the youthful glint of innocence though, not the hardened, roughened grown-up she kissed yesterday. She’d been in love with him for years, her entire life it seemed, but this night in particular, with the fire dancing in his eyes, he almost seemed to like her too.

He’d hugged her briefly, brushing a soft kiss across her cheek before turning to his sister and doing the same. For a little while, Casey was reminded of his feelings for her: His kid sister’s friend, nothing more. He protected her like he would his sister, that’s why he’d come. Brent understood her distaste, mingled with fear of her father, and had come to help as a buffer of sorts between the two.

But later, after Summer pled exhaustion and went to sleep in the bag next to Casey’s, Brent had yawned, laying his head in Casey’s lap.

“I’m beat, and I forgot a pillow.” The mischievous grin on his face told Casey he didn’t really care about a pillow. Her breath caught in her throat, as he closed his eyes, the dwindling fire casting shadows of his eyelashes on his cheeks, making them seem impossibly long.

“You can use me however you want,” Casey had said, her fourteen-year-old-self not realizing the connotations of her words. “I’m just glad you came tonight.” Her fingers were unable to stay out of his hair on her lap, twining in the soft dirty blonde locks.

His eyes opened briefly and gazed at her with something that looked a lot like longing to Casey. She wasn’t about to believe that, though. Until he spoke. “I wouldn’t have missed it, Case.” His voice was gravelly, and she decided he must really be tired, but the words gave her hope. Hope he liked her the way she liked him. At that adolescent, sophomoric age, Casey clung to those words, and the look in his eyes, and revisited it often.

When he’d fallen asleep, Brent rolled over, slinging his arm around Casey’s waist, burying his face in her waistline. It was an incredibly intimate position, and she couldn’t control the warmth it evoked in parts of her body she was only recently becoming acquainted with.

Not wanting to end the contact, she stayed awake as long as possible that night, watching him sleep with his head cradled in her lap, his hand comfortably gripping her waist. She indulged in thoughts of Brent as her boyfriend, someday her husband. At that moment, Casey’s father was a nonentity in her life. Brent hadn’t come to the cabin to act as a shield from his temper, he’d come because he loved her.

When she’d woken the next morning, the image was shattered, as she’d fallen asleep and laid down on the pine needles, dislodging Brent. He’d repositioned himself next to her, but no longer touching her, his arm slung over his eyes against the rising sun.

Shaking herself free of the memory, Casey re-focused on the work she had to do today. While most draftsman worked on computers, Casey preferred to do it old-school with pen and paper, then transfer the mark-ups to computer afterward. If she’d made a mistake, the computer was quick to let her know. And she didn’t go blind staring at it all day long. She was lucky to find an engineering company who didn’t fight her little peccadillos and allowed her to do most of her work by hand.

Now that she was divorced and had moved away, they still sent her work, allowing her to telecommute, but she thought their generosity was limited, since the work was already drying up. Oh well, she wanted a fresh start. A change of career would be coming soon, and she could embrace the change with open arms.

She had the drawings spread out and was just beginning to work on them in earnest when a knock sounded at the front door. She looked through the curtain at the door, and suddenly her skin was on fire. She took a deep breath before opening the door to Brent.

A ripple of pleasure went up her spine at his slack-jawed look when he saw her. His eyes started at the red peep-toed shoes and widened, before roaming up her legs and pausing briefly at her chest before leaping to her face. She smiled brightly and ushered him in.

“What a surprise, Brent! I wasn’t expecting you.”
Ever.

“Well…” He had the graciousness to appear sheepish. “I wanted to apologize for the way I left things the other day. I know it looks like I wasn’t…”

She waited for him to finish. To throw her a bone. To give her a clue. One minute he’d been all over her, the next he’d been all, ‘see you around.’ It was exactly like high school, and Casey was getting mad all over again.

No negativity. No negativity.

She took a deep breath to cool her emotions, “Wasn’t what?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I was an asshole, and you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.” He spoke the words quickly, and Casey knew he was trying not to lose his nerve.

“We’re not in high school anymore.”

“I know, I realize that. It’s just…Can we talk a little?” His eyes stopped again at her chest, and Casey knew the effect the outline of her bra was having on him. She almost unzipped her skirt to see his reaction to the panties too, but decided against that.

The outfit was doing it for her. She felt sexy in it and was using that feeling to tease Brent. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she ever managed to get the man in bed; lord knows she’d been dreaming about it nearly her whole life.

But he’d hurt her, and she wanted to make him sweat a little bit. But just a little, because seeing him in the flesh made her forget the pain. He was wearing practically the same outfit he’d had on the other day, only this time he was clean and didn’t smell of tar and sweat. The warmth of the day though still made his scent emanate from his body and Casey had to admit he smelled good. He smelled like hay and sunshine. And Brent.

She sat on the couch and crossed her legs, noticing his eyes strayed back to the shoes. Casey watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“Nice shoes.”

“Thanks. They match my underwear.”

“Christ, Case. Don’t do that.” He swiped a hand across his face.

“Do what?”

“Tease like that. I don’t want this to just be about sex.”

That shocked her into silence. First of all, he said
this
like there was something between them. Her heart leapt at that thought. Second, he’d said
sex
, and the way the word drawled out of his mouth sounded sinful, and torrid images floated around her brain for a little while before she found some sense.

“Okay. So there is a
this
?” Suddenly timid, her eyes searched his out, looking for straight answers.

He sighed. “I’d like for there to be, yes.” She could see his eyes bouncing back and forth between hers as he said the words.

“And you don’t want sex?”

“No. Wait—” He groaned and swiped his hand across his face again. “Not…Well, I want sex, but I don’t want…shit.” He finally muttered to his lap. When he looked up at her again, his face was beet red and Casey took pity on him.

“You don’t want sex first?”

Relieved, he said, “Yes. I came over here to ask you to come out to the ranch tomorrow for the day. I can saddle up the horses, and we can take a ride and talk. I’ll fix something to eat.”

“That sounds nice. I’d like that.”

“I want to explain, about what happened. Before.”

She stopped him with a hand. “That was twenty years ago. We’ve both lived our lives since then. No big deal.”

“Right. No big deal.” He looked dejected and a little pitiful.

“If you feel the need to explain, you can, but I promise, I’m over it. We were kids. Kids are assholes.”

He stood. “I need to get some work done over at Mr. Jackson’s.” Stopping himself before he got to the door, he turned to her, his gaze sweeping over her again. He didn’t try to disguise the admiration in his eyes, which made her flush. “Can I ask you why you’re so damned dressed up?”

She shrugged, “Sometimes a girl just likes to feel pretty.”

“Well, you look pretty.” His gaze lingered and Casey thought he was going to kiss her, especially when he licked his lips like he was a starving man staring down a T-bone. But he didn’t. He just grabbed his baseball hat out of his back pocket and slung it over his head. “See you tomorrow?” He pulled out his wallet and extracted a new-looking business card. “My address and phone number are on there, if you need it.” And then he was gone. Again.

But Casey didn’t feel disappointment. She only felt an absurd sense of anticipation. Heat spread throughout her body as she thought of the turquoise stitching on her new cowboy boots, and how well they matched her favorite thong and bra set.

B
rent was just stepping out of the shower when he heard the car pull up in the driveway. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he ran down to answer the door.

“Sorry, I’m a little early.” Casey looked phenomenal. She had on new-looking boots covered with intricate turquoise embroidery with a pair of jeans that should have been fucking illegal, hugging every one of her dangerous curves. His mouth watered a little as he noticed a hint of sky-blue lace peeking out from under her white tank top. Thank god she was wearing a long-sleeved denim shirt over it. If he saw much more of her shape, the horses wouldn’t be getting ridden at all today.

Mooch burst out the door to the porch and wedged his snout in Casey’s crotch, eliciting a squeal. “Good gawd! That’s the most action I’ve seen in a while…” She muttered it good-naturedly.

Brent stifled the images that rose to his mind as he grabbed Mooch’s collar. “Sorry. That’s how I hug him, but…my legs are longer.” He offered a sheepish smile and felt the blood rush to his cheeks, while the image of giving Casey a little action wouldn’t stop.

He fell silent before he said something stupid, turning to put on his boots. “I’ve already got the horses saddled up behind the house. They’re ready for a ride. I’ve been helping Les out with his business so much lately, I haven’t really had time to exercise them the way I need to.” As he pulled his boots up over his socks, he noticed Casey had come inside and was looking around the room.

“Les, huh? You keep up with all the old crew?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much just Les and Max, but Max is married and fixing to be a dad, so his time’s been limited lately.” His words died in his throat as he watched her look around the crapshack he called home.

Stifling his awkwardness he said, “It’s not much, yet. I’ve got to get the barns and property fixed up before I can start working on the house.”

Casey nodded, straight-faced, but her eyes danced. “It’s not bad, Brent. In fact, it’s almost cozy.” She was making fun.

“Yeah, if you’re a squirrel.” The farmhouse that had come with the property was tiny. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small kitchen that led into an equally small living room. All crammed into about eight hundred square feet. He had plans to build a new house, later. Until then, this would do. At the moment, it was clean. And that was saying something. “In fact, when I moved in, I think I displaced a family or two…”