“And these are the men you seek out?” I ask dumbly.
“Yes,” is all she says, and she waits to see if I get it. When I don’t, she continues on, “It’s self-preservation at its simplest form.”
And then I get it.
I nod, my eyes wide with understanding. “It’s easier to keep yourself closed off from those types of people. You aren’t in any danger of getting hurt, because you know exactly what you’re dealing with. And because these men really aren’t of any true interest to you… at least no more than a nice diversion… you aren’t ever in any danger of breaking your own boundaries. You’re not in danger of falling for them.”
Casey grins and stabs her index finger in the air at me. “Bingo. You got it.”
Shaking my head, I pick up my coffee cup. Just before taking a sip, I mutter, “You are one complex woman, Goldie.”
Casey’s voice is whisper soft, full of emotion. “And you are dangerous, Tenn Jennings, because you are exactly the type of man that could crumble all of those boundaries.”
The honesty of her words and the fact they are said with such resignation about slays me.
My hand drops to my stomach and I rub it gingerly, because those words and the sad quality of her voice just rendered a deep punch to my gut. I want to slide from the booth, pull her out of her seat, and wrap her in my arms. I want to kiss her and tell her she’s far more worthy than she gives herself credit for, but I can’t do any of those things.
Those are exactly the types of things that would send Casey scurrying away from me. Those are the types of things that make me dangerous in her mind.
So instead, I ask, “What do your friends all think of this philosophy you have? Why you only seek out those types of men?”
Casey scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Tenn… what I just told you? My reasons for doing what I do? They don’t know any of that. They just think Casey wants to drink champagne and the only way to do it on her Coca Cola budget is to target the hotties with the money. I mean… look at me. I don’t mean that in any vain sense, but seriously… I can get anyone I want. At least… any man who is so self-absorbed and narcissistic, they don’t give a rat’s ass that I set boundaries with them. That’s all my friends really know… all they need to know. The only reason I told you is because you’re fleeting. Just here for a visit.”
While I’m not about to disabuse her of the notion that I’m just visiting—since I’m thinking of relocating—I am floored that she’s shared something with me that even her closest friends don’t know. Which really pisses me off because whatever it is that drives Casey to do the things she does, it comes at the sacrifice of her insulating her friends from whatever pain she’s suffered. She doesn’t share with them not because she doesn’t trust them. She doesn’t share with them because she doesn’t want them to hurt for her.
Leaning further over the table, I reach out and take one of Casey’s hands in my own. I rub my thumb over the peaks and valleys of her knuckles. “You know what your problem is, Goldie?”
She shakes her head, her eyes seeking almost desperately for some truth that she hasn’t figured out on her own.
“The men you’ve been with? They merely stir you and you don’t need to be gently stirred,” I tell her simply.
One eyebrow drops while the other one rises in skepticism. “I don’t need stirred?”
“It’s like this. You’re not a woman that needs to be treated with kid gloves. You don’t need to be coddled or unnecessarily flattered. You’re too sharp and savvy for that. In fact, you’re almost too sharp and savvy for that. It’s made you wary and shielded, which has in turn made you stagnant. You’re stuck in a rut of your own making… maybe for self-preservation, maybe not… but your boundaries have stunted the woman you’re meant to be. It’s like the cocktails you make when you bartend. You need to be shaken, not stirred.”
Casey just stares at me as understanding of what I just said starts to take root. Her eyes flare round and her mouth parts slightly. Just as I think she’s getting ready to tell me that I am the wisest of all creatures she’s ever encountered, she leans over to the side and slaps her free hand on the tabletop while she lets out a bark of a laugh. She peals out uncontrollable chuckles and then wheezes. When she finally sucks in a deep breath of air, she wipes her eyes and says, “That is the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard in my life, Tenn.”
I smirk at her as I release her hand and slide out of the booth. After fishing a twenty out to cover the coffee and an extremely generous tip, which I throw down on the table, I hold my hand out to her. Still snickering, she places her hand in mine and looks up at me with amusement.
“Come on, Goldie,” I tell her as I pull her from the booth. “You can laugh all you want, but I’m right about that. I’m going to prove it to you.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks with a giggle as we start to walk out of the diner hand in hand. “How are you going to prove it to me?”
“I’m going to take you back to my hotel room and I’m going to fuck you hard into submission,” I growl at her in a low voice so as not to distress the waitress who waves goodbye to us.
“Mmmmm,” Casey moans dramatically as we hit the parking lot. “That sounds nice.”
“You’ll be walking funny tomorrow,” I warn her ominously.
“Even better,” she chirps and starts pulling me faster through the lot to my bike. When we get there, I reach out for her helmet to put it on her, but she grabs ahold of my wrists. “But I have a better idea.”
“Oh yeah… what’s that?”
“You come to my house instead,” she says quietly, and my body goes still.
This, I know, is huge. Given the boundaries that Casey sets with men… the fact that she doesn’t let them in personally at all… there’s no way in hell she opens her house up to them.
“Am I the first?” I ask her gruffly.
She nods her head as she nibbles on her lower lip.
Pleasure and an odd sense of accomplishment rushes through me. Actually, it’s euphoric.
I jerk Casey into my body and crush my mouth down on to hers, showing her how much I appreciate the tiny bit of trust she’s placed in me. I know this is a monumental moment for her, and I want her to see how special it is to me.
Christ… I feel like she just awarded me her virginity or something.
Chapter 9
Casey
Oh, boy… this was not a good idea. What was I thinking inviting Tenn into my home?
Stupid¸ stupid, stupid.
I opened the door to my house and metaphorically opened up a boundary that had been sealed tight.
Wringing my hands, I nervously walk through my small living room. “Um… not much to it. Just a small living room and kitchen. Two bedrooms and two baths.”
“It’s nice,” Tenn says as he looks around and then walks to the back sliding glass door. “Cozy in fact.”
I watch as he opens the door and steps out onto my minuscule deck. My tiny beach house sits two streets off the ocean, so most of my view is of other beach houses with just a tiny glimpse of the Atlantic. My house faces south so from the back deck, you can actually see not only a little bit of the ocean to the east but also a tiny bit of the sound to the west. It’s all I could afford as beachfront is definitely not within the budget of a down-and-out realtor turned bartender.
Tenn puts his hands on the deck railing and leans over it, craning his neck slightly to the left to look toward the ocean. A soft breeze filters in through the door, but my skin feels chilled.