Every Little Kiss (4 page)

“Heard you had some excitement yesterday at your job,” Betty said to her, ladling her plate with food as the dishes were passed around. Betty's curly blonde hair was aglow in the soft light.

“False alarm, as it turned out. Just low batteries in Robot Lit's carbon monoxide detector.”

Casey silently gave herself props for following through earlier in the day on replacing the detector's batteries, and also buying two smoke alarms and a fire extinguisher.

“I meant the part where you got stuck in an elevator with a fireman,” Betty said.

The other women around the table stilled.

“You didn't tell me that!” Audrey said, her brown eyes wide. “And you hate small spaces. Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. It was just an old elevator that stalled out.” She eyed Betty. “How did you even know about that?”

“Sometimes I tune into the scanner. Sounded like you and the lieutenant were in there for a good long while.”

“I—” Casey stalled, unsure what to say next. They'd been in there for what seemed like hours, even though it had probably only been twenty minutes or so. She could still feel the warmth of his hand around hers, the steady beat of his heart against her fingertips.

“The lieutenant is Abe Cameron, right? Stewart's older brother?” Audrey asked.

“The serious one,” Willa said. “Stu was so easygoing and fun. I was on student council with him in high school. Abe would pick him up from school sometimes, and I remember Abe being like—one of the faces on Mount Rushmore or something. So stony and serious.”

“The opposite of his parents,” Betty said.

“What do you mean?” Casey asked.

“Julia and Pete Cameron were such free spirits. They both painted, and I always loved their work. Now they live up in the White Pine Retirement Village. I hear Pete's memory is going.”

Casey blinked with surprise. She couldn't imagine Abe's parents being artists. Military sergeants, maybe. But not painters.

Until she remembered how warm and gentle Abe had been in the elevator. He'd been perfect, really, as she'd panicked in the cramped space. Until the light of day had shone on him again, and Casey figured she must have imagined the compassion he'd shown her.

Or had she?
It was maddening to wonder what her addled brain had cooked up and what had been reality.

“What's that look?” Audrey asked, reading Casey all too well. “Did something happen in that elevator?”

Leave it to her sibling to cut to the chase.

“If it did, you're in the clear,” Betty said. “Abe is single. At least that's what I hear.”

“Abe is always single,” Willa said.

“The parade of ladies through his life is impressive,” Anna agreed. “Sam knows some of the guys down at the station and I guess he's got quite a reputation.”

“Is that good or bad?” Casey asked.

“Very good while it lasts,” Betty said with a wink, “since apparently he's quite…
gifted
in certain ways. But then bad when it's over.”

“Didn't he go out with Maddie Fronting?” Audrey asked. “I was in a book club with her once, and I feel like she was always talking about this guy who turned her into a gymnast in bed. Twisted her up in all the best ways.” She giggled. “That was Abe, right?”

“Probably,” Stephanie said, nodding. “He might put all that stony focus to good work in the bedroom, but at the end of the day, he's an unreformed serial monogamist.”

“A what?” Casey asked.

“Someone who dates one person seriously for a while. Then breaks up with them and dates someone else—wash, rinse, repeat.”

“Did he ask you out?” Audrey asked Casey.

She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. In fact, just the reverse. Abe got me thinking that I should pursue the opposite of him. Someone lighter, more fun-loving.”

“Like his brother?”

“Stu's a charmer,” Betty said. “Works at that winter gear store, I think.”

“I didn't mean Stu necessarily,” Casey said. “Just someone with similar attributes. Someone playful. Lively.” She bit her lip, unwilling to admit to her rule-bound past, which was why she was thinking about all of this to begin with.

Betty arched a brow. “You sound like you wrote out a whole list.”

Casey stared at her untouched casserole. The truth was, she
had
made some mental notes. Okay, more than a few. She had come to White Pine determined to open her heart to others, and there was a tiny ember inside her that was ready to kindle romance, too. Though romance was too nice a word for what she really wanted, which was a tumble in the sack. She'd already begun thinking in earnest about a few ways she wanted to jettison her…inhibitions.

“Oh, you didn't!” Audrey laughed, staring at her. “You actually made a bullet-pointed list, didn't you!” Once again, leave it to Audrey to bare her secrets.

“Not exactly,” she said. “I haven't put pen to paper. It's more like I'm thinking about what could be on it.”

Willa chuckled. “A serious list to achieve a not-so-serious goal.”

“It's not a list—I haven't written it down,” Casey protested.

“It's in your head, though,” Audrey said, grinning.

“We don't mean to poke fun,” Stephanie said, perhaps catching the frown pulling at the corner of Casey's mouth. “We've just been around each other so long we've lost some of our verbal filters.”

Another reminder that Casey was the outsider. She set down her fork, no longer hungry.

Audrey bumped her shoulder playfully. “Come on. You have to admit, it is kind of ironic. A serious list so you can have some fun?”

It wasn't serious, though.
It wasn't even a list.
More like it was a mortifying set of thoughts about wanting to get some. Casey knew she should probably be talking about finding Mr. Right, just like all these other women had. But the truth was, she didn't want that. After a lifetime of rule following, not to mention a serious relationship with an even unhappier ending, she wanted something she'd never had before, and it sounded an awful lot like hot sex, no strings attached. Forget a ring. She wanted a
fling
.

“I don't suppose there's any way you'd tell us what's on your li—that is, what you've been thinking about?” Willa asked.

Casey stared at the scorched lump of Mexican hot dish on everyone's plates. It was such a mess.
She
was such a mess.

I'm not like you
, she imagined herself saying to the collective group.
You're all happily settled and I want to be un-settled for once.

“It's okay,” Audrey said, coming to Casey's rescue after a moment. “You don't have to share if you don't feel like it.”

“The hell she doesn't,” Betty said, her gaze sharp. “We share everything here. It's a judgment-free zone. What exactly do you think we won't understand, Casey?”

The degree to which I've screwed up my life.

The fact that I don't want what you all have.

“It's complicated,” Casey hedged. “My parameters aren't exactly…wholesome.”

Betty hooted. “Even better!”

Somehow, that wasn't helpful.

“Here's an idea,” Willa said, patting her round belly. “Why don't we each say something we've done that's a little scandalous. It'll help Casey feel like she can share.”

“Right!” Audrey said, brightening. “She hasn't been here long enough to know things like that. Like how you wanted to be fuck buddies with Burk for a while before you guys officially got together.”

Willa's eyes widened. “Well. I didn't realize you were going to put it that way, but all right. Should I turn the tables and say how you dropped your panties for Kieran Callaghan in the middle of the day and got busy on a riverbank?”

Now it was Audrey's turn to blush. “I think you just did.”

“Sam and I have secret identities,” Anna said. “I'm Eva Vespertine and he's Rock Reynolds and we meet sometimes…and role-play.”

“Rock Reynolds?” Betty asked. “Seriously?”

“Hey, judgment-free zone, remember? Besides, you have yet to share something scandalous about the good pastor.”

Betty grinned. “Fine. I give him massages.”

“That's hardly scandalous,” Anna said, frowning. “That's called Tuesday night.”

“I wasn't finished. I give Randall massages—but I don't use my hands.”

“What do you use?” Willa asked, her green eyes glinting with amusement.

“Lots of other parts. Sometimes other…devices. But the rule is no hands.”

Stephanie giggled. “Sounds like the opposite of mine. With the twins, Alan and I have had to figure out how to steal quick moments. I put my hands in Alan's pockets all the time, if you know what I mean. Just the other day, the kids asked if I was looking in Daddy's pockets for quarters again.”

The group burst out laughing. Casey found herself more relaxed, grateful that these women were helping her feel at home, helping her feel like one of them.

“I appreciate the confessions,” she said after a moment. “But I'm not—that is, you all are happily married, and my ideas don't reflect anything long-term.”

“Who cares?” Betty asked. “You don't need to be married to have some fun.”

“And besides, you never know what will
lead
to marriage,” Audrey said.

Casey swallowed. Technically, she supposed anything could happen. But she wasn't pining for a forever mate. Maybe she had at one point, a long time ago. Before she knew better. “I guess that's true,” she said, though she didn't actually believe it.

Audrey's brows lifted. “Of course it's true! You're beautiful. You're smart. You're a catch. You'll get married eventually, raise a family—the whole nine yards.”

Except I don't want that
, she thought. But she'd never say it. Especially not to Audrey.

When their parents had died, Casey had been saddled with the responsibility of raising her younger sister. It wasn't Audrey's fault any more than it had been Casey's, but the reality was that Casey didn't want kids or any additional responsibilities because she'd been there, done that. For a long time she figured she was simply a modern woman and she'd find a man who shared her sensibilities. They'd get married and be enough for each other.

But she just couldn't find a man who shared her thoughts on the matter.

Well, to be fair, it was hard for her to find a man, period. The one she had found for a time, Miles Watson, had broken up with her when he discovered she didn't want kids. “Don't do this again,” he'd told her angrily. “Do your next partner a favor and tell him up-front that you don't want everything that comes with commitment.”

The bitterness in Miles's words had stung with a fierce pain that took her breath away.

“Aren't I enough?” she asked him. “I thought it was okay, just being us.”

After all, he'd told her he'd loved her. She'd met his parents. She'd thought his measured practicality was endearing, that it would mean he'd take care of her always. She'd never seen this cold glint in his eye, or this ferocious curl of his mouth.

“You lied to me,” he said, shaking with anger. “It was never supposed to be just us.” The way he'd scoffed and stormed away then had forced her to realize what an anomaly she was. Long-term relationships for most people ended in marriage and kids. One right alongside the other.

But not Casey.

Especially lately. If there was part of her that thought she could will herself to want kids, it was getting buried under a burning desire to do the complete opposite.

“We've shared our scandals,” Betty said, tapping the red table. “Now it's time for yours, Casey.”

“All right.” She took a breath. “Here goes. I've been thinking that if I could only get five presents under my tree this Christmas, what would I want?” The group leaned in. “Like, maybe I get kissed under the mistletoe.”

Betty blinked. “That's it? Just kissed?

“Well, obviously it's a really, really good kiss.”

“All this talk of scandal,” Betty said, “and I thought you were going to give us something good.”

“I thought that was good,” Casey said, feeling a pinch of hurt.

“Why not spice it up?” Audrey asked. “It's starting in a good place. Why not end it in a good place?”

“Right!” Willa said, hand on her belly. “Like, what if you want to start out kissing under the mistletoe but finish with hot sex in bed?”

Casey giggled. “I was leaving sex for later on the list. But I guess we could move it to number one?”

“Or,” Anna said, “what if you make number two about a very specific kind of sex that you want?”

“Good sex?” Casey asked. Miles had been so practical inside the bedroom and out, she'd barely even had that much. Not that she was about to open her mouth and admit it.

“How about role-playing during sex?” Anna asked, winking.

“Thanks, Eva Vespertine, but let's let Casey decide what kind of sexy times she wants,” Audrey said.

A flush crept up Casey's neck. Did she even have an answer?

“I guess I wouldn't mind if it was a little…naughty.”

“Like with whips?” Stephanie asked.

“No beatings,” Casey said firmly. “But funky positions? Handcuffs?” The thought gave her a thrill. Neither of those things would be so bad.

“Let's just leave it at naughty,” Audrey said, “and you can decide what fits the definition.”

“What else?” Betty asked. Her eyes were glinting with something like delight.

“I was thinking it wouldn't be so bad to have sex on Christmas Day. I mean, since it's a holiday list and all.” Plus Christmas was her favorite holiday since everything became beautiful and bright. Plain storefronts were suddenly bedazzled with lights. Normal cardboard boxes transformed when wrapped with extraordinary paper and ribbons. Even a plain girl like Casey felt special on Christmas, felt like the world was full of possibilities. Wouldn't it be amazing to experience that in bed, too?