Page 43 of Beneath the Blue Moon

***Casey***

“Clara, you’re like manna from the heavens.”

“Oh, hush now, dear.”

Her blush turns her cheeks bright red.

“I’m serious,” I tell her. “You’re exactly what I need. What

we need.”

I know I’m grinning like an idiot, but Clara is awesome!

What’s even better, she’s amazing with Daddy. He’s never taken to anyone this

quickly, not even before he got sick. Except for the sheriff, of course, which

I completely do not understand. He barely even talks to the Johnsons, yet

here he is chatting away with Clara like they’re old friends. Her experience is

outstanding, her references impeccable, and she’s just the nicest old lady

you’ll ever meet. Well… not exactly old. She looks quite young for her age—no

wrinkles, barely any grey in her dark hair. Her eyes are a brilliant blue,

shining with kindness. She looks strong, too. That will come in handy when Daddy

goes into one of his episodes.

“There’s someone at the door, dear,” Clara says.

Huh? I didn’t hear a knock. As I walk to the door, I hear

the sound of knuckles rapping on the wood. Huh… Maybe I was too lost in my

thoughts and didn’t hear it the first time. I open the door, and the sheriff is

standing there like a beacon in the night. His smile shines a light into the

dark, musty, cobweb-riddled regions of my heart.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

“Feeling better?”

“Much. Come in.”

“I see you called Clara.”

“I did, and it’s going great. Do you hear them in there?”

“Happy I could help.”

“Come on.”

I take his hand and lead him to the kitchen, intent on

giving him a proper thank you. He places his hat on the counter and perches on the

edge of one of the stools around the kitchen island.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks, not staying. I just came to check on you.”

After one last peek down the hallway, I step between his

legs and kiss his lips softly.

“That’s for Clara.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a

not-so-soft kiss. His hand slides around my waist and down to grab my ass. I

moan as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, challenging mine to a dangerously

erotic duel. He squeezes my ass cheeks, pulling me against his growing

erection. My heart rate increases and my breathing becomes erratic. He sucks on

my lips as if he can’t get enough of me. Strangely, that’s exactly how I feel.

He’s like a strawberry-banana smoothie. Mindful that my father is in the next

room, I break our kiss.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“For caring.”

“Note to self—care more.”

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

He chuckles and, instead of releasing me, he holds me

tighter. Every time I’m in his arms, I seem to like it more.

“Can I see you tonight?”

“I guess you can pick me up from work. Apparently, Clara

came with the intention of starting right away. Mrs. Johnson’s gonna come over

and help her get settled.”

“Sure. Time?”

“Ten.”

“Okay. I’m gonna say hi to your dad and Clara; then I’m

outta here.”

“Okay.”

He places a gentle kiss on my forehead and heads to the

living room. I watch his retreating back, wondering, for once, if it’s possible

to take care of Daddy and still have a relationship. I shake it off, knowing

it’s not possible. I don’t even know what I was thinking.

***

By the time I get to work, there’s quite an evening crowd.

Most of the men have stopped by for a few drinks after their shifts at the beer

factory in Lincoln. I don’t get it, being around beer all day and then drinking

it after work. Oh, well. As I move around, I can’t help feeling like I’m being

watched; my spidey senses are tingling. I do an inconspicuous sweep of the room,

and that’s when I see him. His eyes meet mine, and I get a bone-deep chill.

Something’s just not right about him. He motions me forward, and I approach

him, plastering a smile on my face. He’s still a customer.

“Hi. Welcome to The Round-up. What can I get you?”

His gaze travels over my body, making me suddenly feel

dirty. When he finally looks into my eyes, icy-blue ones stare back at me. He

smirks like he knows something I don’t, and slowly licks his lips.

“We’ll start with a beer, whatever’s on tap. We’ll see where

it goes from there.”

Even his voice is creepy. Ugh. “Coming right up.”

I roll my eyes as I turn away from him. He is so not

my type, even without the creepy factor. I guess he’s handsome—dark, wavy hair

with a streak of gray at his temple, full lips. He’s tall, too, over six feet.

His eyes, though… There’s just something evil about them. I place his beer before

him and get ready to make a hasty retreat.

“What’s your name, beautiful?”

Crap. “Casey.”

“Casey.” He tests my name on his lips, dragging out the

sound of the s. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

Creepy, evil, and totally unoriginal. “Thank you.”

“What time do you get off, Casey?”

“Look, I’m flattered, but I… have a thing.”

He chuckles. “A thing? Doesn’t sound too serious.”

“Well, it’s early, but who knows?”

“He’s a lucky man.”

“Yes, he is.”

He smiles, but it does nothing to soften his features. “Beautiful

and funny. Quite a combination.”

His phone vibrates on the bar, and he picks it up with a

deep frown. He pockets it, pulls a few bills from his wallet, and places them

on the counter.

“I’d love to continue this conversation, but I have to go. I

hope I see you again.”

And I hope not. “I’ll be here.” He nods and turns to

walk away. “Wait. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

He gives me another knowing smile.

“Morrow. Stone Morrow.”