Page 17 of Mr. Frosty Pants
“Google.”
“Oh. Right.” Joel rolled his eyes. “I forget my privacy is nil since Congress overturned all those crucial Internet privacy regulations just so they could line some big companies’ pockets. Thanks, ’Merica.”
Casey said nothing, continuing to pet Bruno, who stared up with all the adoration Joel had once felt for Casey. He couldn’t even blame the dog for being smitten. He still was, despite his better judgment.
“Well?” Joel asked again. “Why are you even here?”
Casey rose, muddy paw prints on his pant legs and his formerly pristine shirt wrinkled and covered with dog fluff. Joel wanted to feel some sort of satisfaction in that—heshouldhave felt it—but instead he had to hold back from scolding Bruno for doing what dogs do. Casey bit his lower lip, a gesture that shot into Joel like an arrow straight to his heart, and when he gazed up at Joel from beneath golden lashes, another arrow went straight to his dick.Fuck.
“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Casey said. “I shouldn’t have surprised you that way.”
Joel barked a laugh and gestured at the SUV and Casey standing there beside it. “So, this is better?”
Casey winced. “Right. No. Probably not.”
“Christ.” Joel turned his gaze from Casey’s plump lips and earnest eyes. He shifted to look out at the lake instead, the dark water reflecting the winter-gray sky. “You were always like this. You’d justcome over. Like you were allowed. And then you’d juststay.” And he’d liked that about Casey. Always had, and, fuck his own stupid heart, always would. He even liked itnow, for fuck’s sake.
“I wanted a chance to talk to you. Face-to-face. Something better, more honest, than last night.”
“You couldn’t have used the phone?”
Casey ignored that. “I barely slept. My mind kept turning over everything you’d said to me. I hated that you… That I made you feel that way, Joel. By ghosting on you, I mean. And I guess I thought face-to-face would be more productive. I thought you’d be less likely to ignore me.” He grinned, and the light caught his eyes. “Plus, I don’t exactly have your number. The Internet didn’t cough that up.”
Joel rubbed a hand over his upper lip. His stomach flipped over. Why was it so damn hard for him to say no to Casey, much less stay mad at him? He really wanted to be mad. But…
Bruno took off across the yard, barking hard at the wild turkey he’d spotted in the woods. Joel let him go without whistling him back. Bruno was a terrible hunter, but at least he’d get some exercise trying to catch the bird before Joel shut him back up in the trailer for the day. He had his dog door for necessities, but typically he was a lazy lump and mainly slept.
“So what do you say? Can we talk?” Casey asked when Bruno’s barks had faded and his clumsy rustling in the woods calmed down.
Joel tilted his head back, studying the steel-colored clouds, and finally shrugged. “C’mon.” He gestured with his head for Casey to follow him. “We can sit at least.”
Casey’s sharp intake of breath as they came around the corner of the tailer and into the shade of a massive oak tree by the lake brought a grim smile to Joel’s face. At least Casey recognized it. That was something.
“Is that…?”
“Yeah. I took it before the construction crew could demolish the entire lot for that new house they’re building.”
“Isn’t that stealing?”
“I figured it belonged to me more than to anyone else. Don’t you agree?” Joel sat and gestured for Casey to join him. “Like the good old days.” The sarcasm wasn’t intentional, and he felt a little guilty when Casey’s smile faded again before he folded his now ridiculously long limbs to sit on the wood-and-iron bench—theirbench.
“Huh. Looks like you’ve outgrown it,” Joel said. “Like a lot of things.”
“I can still fit.” Casey leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, then looked out over the lake. “This was your grandmother’s land, right? I remember when she left it to you.”
“Yep.”
“It’s a great view. Really good property here.”
“Eh. Not as prestigious as the other side, of course. It’s got a decent view but nothing like the one your folks have of the mountains to the east and lake to the west.” He nodded at Casey’s parents’ place across the way.
Casey gasped. “Wait, what?”
Across the narrow neck of the lake, the Stevens’ windows reflected the pale gray sky, but in the daylight Joel could clearly make out the big wreaths hung on the porch and patio doors. Both looked to be Vreeland holly-and-fir wreathes, if he wasn’t mistaken. Vicious stickers protruded from some of those. He was always warning Angel and his customers about them. A bitter, hateful part of him hoped Casey’s folks had gotten poked while hanging them up, but the angel on his shoulder hoped they hadn’t.
“I didn’t realize you could see my parents’ house from here.” Casey narrowed his eyes against the gray glare as he peered toward the fancy neighborhood on the opposite side of the water. “That’s bananas.”
“Yeah, bananas.” Joel snorted.
