She sat up, hugging her knees. “If this drama with James calms down after the meeting, I guess everything might go back to normal. You can sleep in your own bed again. I can start looking for a place.”
“You know the Churches don’t mind if you stay on for a few more weeks.”
“Yeah, Christine said so. It’s awful nice of them.”
“And I’m happy to help you move again.” If you could even call it moving. They’d gotten everything, including the baby’s stuff, from her old place to Three C in just one carload each. It had taken all of three hours from the time he’d showed up to help pack to when she’d folded the last of her clothes into the borrowed dresser.
“You get a place of your own,” he said, “and we’re going to need to hook you up with some things. Furniture, microwave, TV . . . Not that I’m one to talk. My apartment looks like a squat.”
“We can go Dumpster diving together,” she said.
“Deal.”
Neither spoke for a long moment, though both gazes lingered until Abilene bit her lip, looking away.
“What?” he asked, and gave her toes another squeeze.
“Are we . . . Did you want to do more than hang out, maybe?”
“I told myself yesterday was a one-off,” he said, but when her face fell, he hurried to take it back. “Only so I wouldn’t get my hopes up about it ever happening again. I mean, I don’t see the harm in it. But if you thought it was a bad idea . . .”
“Not if we both know where we stand. What do you . . . What does it mean to you?” she asked. “Be honest.”
“I like you,” he told her, point-blank. “I’ve liked you from the second I saw you. I liked you when the hormones made you a psycho, and I like you at three a.m. with baby puke in your hair. I think you deserve better than me, and more than I can promise anybody, but I won’t pretend like I don’t want to be with you, in whatever way’s on offer. What about you? What does us fooling around mean to you?”
“I’ve just missed feeling all those things, I guess. And in a selfish way, with everything as scary as it has been, I want it even more, if only to feel something nice for a change. Mercy’s small now,” she said, gaze drifting to the crib. “She won’t remember any of what’s been happening—not the moving around, not any of this business with James, not anything that’s changed between you and me. In a couple years I’m going to have to be careful of how close I let men get, so it’s not just me who’d be in danger of getting attached.” She looked back to Casey. “But for right now, I think it’s okay.” She sounded different, since that phone call. Even tired and rattled, her voice was as strong as he’d ever heard it. “Right now,” she said, “I think it’s what I need. I don’t need promises of forever; I’m up to my eyeballs in commitment already. But to feel like more than just a mom for a few nights, for however long it might last . . . ?”
He felt his pulse spike.
“Can we be that way?” she asked softly. “Just make each other feel good?” Her gaze moved down his body, lighting a fire in his belly.
“We can be whatever way you like.”
“Come over here, then. Remind me what I’ve been missing out on.”
Casey stood from the bed, peeled off his socks, ditched his hoodie. He kept his jeans on and climbed under the covers.
“Can I hold you?” he whispered.
Her reply had an edge to it that he’d never caught before. Mischief. “You can do anything you want.”
Casey swallowed, blood pumping quicker. “I want to kiss you, then.”
She shifted to lie on her side and he did the same. As his mouth met hers, he eased his knee between her legs and drew her close by the waist. He wouldn’t rush her, wouldn’t get pushy, but it felt nice, taking even these small liberties. Made it feel like she was his. His to touch as he desired, his to cater to. He cradled her head, thumb tracing her ear, and kissed her deeper. A surprised huff of a breath from her nose tickled his cheek, and he gave her more of his tongue. Let her feel his hunger. Let her know she stirred more than gentle feelings in him, more than affection and deference. Deeply, darkly primal urges.
She wanted him back. He felt it in the way her fingers gripped his shirt, and he could hear it in her breaths—tiny mewling noises now, helpless little notes of wonder. He slid his hand to her butt and tugged her closer as his hips began to move.
She broke their mouths apart, already panting.
“All right?”
“I can’t believe how . . . how much you make me feel.” She swallowed audibly. “Up until yesterday, I’d forgotten what it was even like, wanting somebody this way.”
Casey felt something similar, something he couldn’t quite articulate. He’d never set his entire sex drive aside, but this . . . This, he hadn’t felt in ages. He’d wanted women, and badly, but not the way he wanted Abilene. This felt big. Felt huge to a man who’d gotten in the habit of settling for the best offer available.
There had been no yearning in his life in recent years. No wanting, aching, waiting, and finally tasting. Only stumbling into beds and lives. Until now.
“I know what you mean,” he whispered, and kissed her lower lip. “You’ve gone a long time not wanting like this. I’ve gone a long time not feeling this.”
“Feeling what?”
“Everything,” he said, the answer meaning nothing, yet so much. He climbed on top of her. Her thighs hugged his waist, urging him to move, and with two short strokes, his jeans were a straitjacket.
He’d never pressure her to do anything she wasn’t ready for, but he couldn’t hide what he desired, either. “I want you,” he whispered. “So bad.”
“I want you, too.”
“Tell me,” he said, rubbing against her, slow and light, “that someday, we’ll go there together. That I can touch you there. Or use my mouth. Or be inside you.”
She softened beneath him, legs going slack. Those blue eyes were bright even in the near dark, and her stare stilled his hips. “Why not tonight?” she asked.
In a breath, Casey was overheated. “Tonight?”
“If you have condoms, that is.” She looked shy at that, and he had to smile. He’d seen her give birth, yet she was still embarrassed to say condom in front of him.
“I think I do. Can you hang on a minute?”
She nodded.
Casey prayed the den would be empty as he slipped out the door. As he stepped onto the landing, he found he wasn’t in luck—the TV was on, volume low, and Christine and Don were sitting together on the couch. He wondered how flushed his face must be as he started down the steps.
Christine looked over as he neared. “Needing the couch? Our show’s nearly over.”
“No, no. Just my shaving bag.”
“Shaving bag?” Don asked, chuckling. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten what a razor was.”
“Don’t get excited—I just need my toothbrush.” He crouched before his duffel and dug for the nylon pouch, thinking he might just escape without interrogation until—
“How’s Abilene doing?” Christine asked.
He got to his feet. “Pretty good. Relieved, I think.” And let them assume he was sequestered in her room for moral support, please and thanks. “The baby’s taking it easy on her tonight, at least.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Yeah. Anyhow, see you tomorrow.” And with that, he hurried to the steps. He stopped in the guest bathroom, thinking he might as well brush his teeth, swerve and avoid the lie. As he did, he poked through the inside pockets of his shaving bag and found precisely one condom. He couldn’t even remember whom he might’ve been seeing when he’d bothered to pack it, but it wasn’t expired so he beamed a little thank-you to that forgotten woman. He spat and rinsed and stole back into Abilene’s room with the plastic square clinging to his sweaty palm.
She sat up as he entered, expression expectant.