ThE BUCKHORN LEGACY. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.
Kristin, he didn’t treat Casey with the same courtesy. The second she’d first said Casey’s name, Damon had gone rigid and he hadn’t relaxed again.
Now, at the introduction, Casey eyed Damon anew, then drew the woman a little closer. “Kristin and I work together.”
It wasn’t easy, but Emma managed another smile. “I hope we’re not interrupting your plans?”
“Not really.” Casey gave her a lazy look. “I was just about to take Kristin home.”
At the word home, B.B. let out a friendly woof, and Emma laughed. “I’m sorry, I almost forgot. This is my pal, B.B.”
With a wide grin, Casey hunkered down in front of the big dog. “Hello, B.B.”
Using noticeable caution, the dog sauntered forward, did some sniffing, and then licked Casey’s hand. Emma had almost forgotten how good Casey’s family was with animals, Casey included. His Uncle Jordan was even a vet, but they all loved animals and were never without a menagerie of pets.
“Where’d you come up with the name B.B.?”
Emma chuckled, her tension easing with the topic. B.B. was her best friend, her comrade in arms when necessary, her confidant. They’d comforted each other when there was no one else, and now it often seemed B.B. could read her mind. “Big Boy,” she explained, and B.B. barked in agreement.
“He’s a gorgeous dog.” Casey stroked along B.B.’s muscled back, then patted his ribs. “How old is he?”
Damon answered for her, his gaze speculative as he watched man and dog bonding. “We’re not sure, but probably about nine or so. He was young when Emma got him, more a ball of fur with nothing big about him, other than his appetite.”
Emma quickly elbowed Damon, hard. A history of how she’d gotten the dog was the last thing she wanted discussed. She didn’t mean for Casey to witness that prod, but when she glanced down at him, their gazes clashed and held. He didn’t say anything, and that was a relief. When she got Damon alone, she’d choke him.
As Casey scratched the dog’s head and rubbed his ears, Emma absorbed the sight of him. It seemed impossible, but eight years had only made him better—taller, stronger, more handsome. As a teen, he’d been an unqualified stud. As a grown man—wowza.
The gentle evening breeze ruffled his dark-blond hair, and his brown eyes caught and held the moonlight. He wore dark slacks and a dress shirt that fit his wide shoulders perfectly. Emma forced her gaze away. It was beyond dumb for her to be ogling him.
The car behind him was, amazingly enough, also a Mustang, but surely a much newer, ritzier model. Emma nodded at the car, trying to see it clearly in the shadows of the night. “Black or blue or green?”
Keeping his hand on B.B.’s head, Casey straightened. “What?”
“Your car.”
He swiveled his head around and looked at the car as if he’d never seen it before. “Black.”
“Mine is red and in desperate need of a water pump. If you’re heading into town, do you think you could direct someone this way? Or is there even road service in the area yet?”
Casey shook his head. “Hell no. If you call Triple A it’ll take them at least a couple of hours to get out here to you.”
Emma groaned. She was dead on her feet and anxious to get settled. All she wanted to do was shower, eat and sleep, in that order. She’d already stopped at the hospital on the way into town. Damon had kept an eye on B.B., letting him walk about on the grounds while she’d spoken briefly with the nurses before visiting her father.
He’d looked so old and frail, and hadn’t registered her visit. She’d wanted to touch him, to reassure herself that he was alive, stable. But she’d held back. Since the doctor was due to see him again in the early morning, she planned to be there so she could get a full update on his prognosis.
Casey moved closer to her again. “The garage is closed for the night, too. That hasn’t changed. We still roll up the sidewalks by nine. But I can give you both a ride into town if you want.”
Emma looked at Damon. He lounged back against the car and smiled his sexiest smile. “We’ll be staying at the Cross Roads Motel. Is that too far off?”
Casey cocked one eyebrow and gave Emma an assessing look. “You’re not staying with your mother?”
“No.” Just the thought of seeing her mother again, of being back in the house where her life had been so miserable, made Emma’s stomach churn. Because Casey couldn’t possibly understand her reserve, she scrambled for reasons to present to him, but her wits had gone begging. It didn’t help that Damon was deliberately provoking Casey, suggesting an intimate relationship that didn’t exist. “The house is small, and my mother… Well, I, ah, thought it’d be better if…”
Before she could say any more, Damon was there. “We’ve been driving for hours,” he interjected smoothly, “and we’re both exhausted. Just let us grab a few things and we can stop holding you up.”
Casey frowned. “You’re not holding me up.”
“I need to be going,” Kristin said, clearly miffed by the turn of events and the way everyone ignored her. Her tone turned snide and her eyes narrowed on B.B. “But I have my cat in the car and she doesn’t like strangers. She especially doesn’t like dogs. Casey, you know she’ll have a fit if we try to put another animal in there with her. Besides, there’s not room for everyone.”
Casey turned to Emma with a shrug. “I’m afraid she’s right. Kristin treated me to dinner because I agreed to help her move.”
Laying a hand on his chest, Kristin turned her face up to his. “You know that wasn’t my only reason.”
Casey countered her suggestiveness with an inattentive hug. “We’ve got the last load in the car now. The floor and the backseat are already packed.”
Damon brought Emma a little closer, and no one could have missed the protectiveness of his gesture. Emma refrained from rolling her eyes, but it wasn’t easy. She was the last woman on earth in need of protection, but Damon refused to believe that.
“No problem.” The baring of Damon’s teeth in no way resembled a smile. And if Emma didn’t miss her guess, he was relieved to send Casey away. She only wished she felt the same. “Perhaps you could call us a cab, then?”
“No cabs in Buckhorn. Sorry.” Reflecting Damon’s mood, Casey looked anything but sorry by that fact. “And you know, if you don’t get to the Cross Roads soon, you’ll get locked out.”
“Locked out?”
“Yep.” Casey transferred his gaze to Emma—and his eyes glittered with a strange satisfaction. “Emma, you remember Mrs. Reider? She refuses to get out of bed to check people in after midnight.” He lifted his wrist to see the illuminated dial on his watch. “That gives you less than fifteen minutes to make it there.”
The beginning of a headache throbbed in Emma’s temples. She rubbed her forehead, trying to decide what to do. “It was difficult enough convincing her that B.B. wouldn’t be a problem.”
Casey lifted an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you could convince her. She’s not big on pets.”
“Paying a double rate did the trick. And I just know she’ll still charge us if we don’t make it there on time. Her cancellation policy is no better than her check-in policy.”
Casey’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “She’s the only motel in town. She can afford to be difficult.”
“Damn.” Damon started to pace, which truly showed his annoyance, since Damon normally remained cool in any situation.
Casey stopped him with a simple question. “Can you drive stick?”
Somewhat affronted, Damon said, “Of