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SHIFTING TO RELIEVE the pressure on his wound, Casper cursed softly under his breath as the sudden flash of blue lights illuminated the interior of his vehicle, cutting through the dim twilight. He knew that deputies would accompany her, but a flicker of hope had lingered that he might have a moment to persuade her to speak with him before they swooped in to intervene. With the situation’s urgency, he realized he would have to quickly recalibrate his approach and adapt to whatever unfolded next.

The deputy he had encountered earlier that day—the one who had knocked on Nettie’s door—approached his window, which Casper had already rolled down. As he prepared for the interaction, Casper’s palms pressed firmly against the cool surface of the steering wheel, and tension coiled in his muscles, trying to gauge the tone of the confrontation.

“Mr. McNabb—” the deputy began, but he was quickly cut off.

“Just tell her I want to speak with her,” Casper insisted calmly. “You can supervise if she feels threatened in any way,” he added, the words tumbling out in a rush as his anxiety bubbled to the surface. He met the deputy’s gaze, his eyes pleading for understanding. “Look, it’s my brother we need to discuss. That’s all.” The gravity of his request hung in the air, almost palpable.

The deputy studied his face intently, glancing around the interior of his vehicle before he nodded slowly, his expression softening a bit. “Hang on,” he said, turning to comply with the request.

As the deputy skirted around the Jeep, Casper steeled himself for what he anticipated would be a stern “No” from Nettie. His heart rate quickened, and uncertainty gnawed at him.

The deputy approached her, their silhouettes converging in the receding sunlight, yet the conversation remained out of his earshot. Both took turns stealing glances at him, their expressions unreadable. What exactly had the deputy conveyed to her?

Nettie gave a quick nod, and a wave of relief washed over him, albeit briefly, as he caught sight of the deputy approaching.

“She’s going to speak with you on the front porch,” the deputy stated firmly. “But,” he interjected, his gaze unwavering, “I’ll be close by.”

Casper nodded in acknowledgment and gingerly stepped out of his vehicle, moving slowly to avoid an adverse reaction from the vigilant deputy. He extended a hand toward the officer, introducing himself. “Ash McNabb, but you may call me Casper.”

The deputy raised an eyebrow at the introduction but said only, “Max Norton and my partner here is Ryan Watts.”

Casper nodded as their hands clasped in a firm handshake. “Don’t worry,” he reassured Max, his tone steady, “I mean her no harm.”

Max’s grip tightened ever so slightly as if conveying an unspoken warning. “You’d best not,” he replied, low and serious. “She’s the best ADA we’ve ever had in these parts, and we aren’t about to let anything happen to that little lady.”

Though Casper wanted to roll his eyes at the patronizing term “little lady,” he held his tongue, knowing that Nettie could more than fight her own battles.

“She gave you five minutes,” Max stated bluntly as he stepped back, giving Casper a chance to prepare for the conversation ahead. “The clock is ticking.”

Casper nodded in understanding and followed Nettie as she ascended the brick steps leading up to her inviting front porch. The porch, bathed in the warm glow of the front porchlight, featured a charming small white wicker loveseat adorned with vibrant, plush cushions in hues of sunflower yellow and sky blue, perfectly complemented by two matching wicker chairs positioned on either side. When Nettie gracefully lowered herself into one of the chairs, Casper paused to assess his predicament. He glanced at the seemingly delicate chairs, pondering the possibility: Would one of those dainty chairs be sturdy enough to support his tall, six-foot-two frame without collapsing beneath him?

As if intuitively grasping the conflict within him, Nettie let out a soft chuckle. “They’re stronger than you’d expect,” she remarked almost playfully, a glint in her gaze. “But why don’t you take the loveseat? It’s sturdier than it looks.”

He released a soft, almost reluctant sigh that mingled resignation with contemplation and shrugged slightly, acknowledging the weight of his circumstances. He realized that standing defiantly would only force her into a defensive posture, which he wished to avoid at all costs. With an internal battle of reluctance, he cautiously lowered himself onto the loveseat—the furniture he had always regarded more as a decorative ornament than a genuine, functional choice for the numerous porches and patios he had frequented. To his surprise, as he sank into the cushions, he felt an unexpected plushness that enveloped him in comfort, starkly contrasting with his rigid perceptions about the purpose of such furnishings.

“Before you begin, Mr. McNabb—”

“Casper,” he responded in a low, almost gravelly tone, frustration evident in his voice. He paused momentarily, aware that his terse reply wasn’t the right approach. Taking a deep breath, he softened his expression and added, “I wish you’d just call me Casper. Mr. McNabb makes me feel older than I am, and I’d rather we keep things a bit more casual, don’t you think?”

“Although I recognize that you are significantly older than I am, I feel compelled by customary formalities to maintain a formal tone in our communication. After all, we’re engaged in a professional meeting rather than establishing a personal friendship. As I have previously stated, the current situation is unethical and unsustainable and cannot persist. I promised to allocate a few moments for this discussion, but let me clarify: this marks our final meeting, Mr. McNabb.”

As she passionately argued her point, he couldn’t help but notice her body’s subtle yet captivating movements. With each gesture, her head gracefully turned, framing her face beautifully, while her hands danced in the air, emphasizing the weight of her words. He was entranced by how her expressive eyes sparkled with conviction, illuminating her entire presence. How had he overlooked her undeniable beauty all this time? Even clad in her formal, fitted blue suit that hinted at an uptight demeanor, with her hair tightly pulled back from her neck, she radiated a stunning aura that left him almost breathless.

“Mr. McNabb, did you hear me?”

Casper felt a sudden jolt, yanked from his unprofessional musings about Nettie, swirling in his mind like a whirlwind. He realized he needed to refocus, gather his thoughts, and regain his composure. This was not the time for distractions. He had to think clearly and strategically. “I wanted to know if you’ll fight for no bail in my brother’s arraignment?”

Nettie’s gaze bore into him, her dark eyes searching his face. Just when he began to fear that silence would settle between them, she finally nodded. “I am.”

“Are you going to fight for the maximum sentence?” The question hung in the air, loaded with anticipation.

She narrowed her eyes as if she weighed where this conversation might lead. “I am. He could have killed someone, and that’s not just a possibility—it’s a reality. Just think about it: he seriously injured the couple in the other car, leaving them with injuries that may forever change their lives.”

He paused, momentarily taken aback. “But he didn’t kill anyone.” He attempted to grasp the full extent of her conviction, even as doubt crept into his mind.

“It’s his second DUI, and only because we’ve managed to catch him this time,” she said, her tone firm yet layered with frustration. She stood up gracefully, smoothing her skirt as she did, her movements precise and deliberate. “I’m sorry, Mr. McNabb, but that is all I have today. I’ll see you in court.”

Casper rose from his seat, a rush of sensations overwhelming him as he caught a whiff of her intoxicating perfume—a sweet blend that lingered in the air, causing his heart to race. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was about this woman—this much younger woman—who had an effortless ability to distract him from his pressing objectives. His mind, usually sharp and focused on assisting his brother and alleviating the mounting pressures from their mother, was now engulfed in thoughts of her. The warm light reflected in her hair, framing her face just so, making it harder for him to concentrate on anything beyond the stirring in his chest as he watched her walk away, a blend of admiration and longing stirring within him.

“Nettie—” His voice faltered, uncertainty clouding his mind as he struggled to find the right words. The moment’s urgency surged through him. He couldn’t allow her to walk away, not like this.

With her hand poised to insert her keys into the lock, she paused and turned, her expression a mix of curiosity and exasperation. “Mr. McNabb—”

He dropped back onto the plush loveseat, the furniture creaking as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. Fingers tangled in his hair, he felt the frustration seep out in a breathless “Christ.”

“You know, Mr. McNabb, I may curse from time to time, but I’d never use the Lord’s name in vain. It bothers me when others do.”

After a long, weighted moment, she sighed heavily, a profound sound that seemed to resonate in the open air. With a reluctant grace, she returned to her seat, the tension between them palpable. “What?” her tone sharp, cutting through the silence that enveloped them.

Casper turned his gaze toward her, desperately trying to project confidence while suppressing the tumult of uncertainty within him. He took a deep breath. “I can’t let you just walk away.”

Nettie stiffened noticeably and looked at him defiantly and cautiously. “Is that a threat?” she asked, her jaw tight as she clenched her hands in her lap, her knuckles turning white. The sight of her tension made him wince, aware that the stakes of the moment had escalated.

“No,” he hurried to clarify, his heart racing. “It’s not like that…. There’s just something about you that draws me in.…”

She raised her brows, skepticism evident in her expression. “And?” she pressed, clearly unfazed by his attempt to explain. The air between them crackled with tension, leaving Casper grappling for the right words to bridge the growing distance between them.

He exhaled deeply, the weight of his admission hanging heavily in the air. “Okay. Here it goes. I want you.”

For the first time in their meetings, she seemed taken aback by his words, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face, followed by a resolute calm.

“I know—” he began, hoping to bridge the gap she created.

“No. Mr. McNabb, while I can acknowledge that you are a good-looking man, more significant matters are at play here. You are more than a decade older than I am, and perhaps more importantly, you are the brother of a defendant.” She rose from her seat with an air of finality, her posture firm and unwavering. “This is our last meeting, except in the courtroom. I must ask you to leave, Mr. McNabb.”

Casper sprang to his feet, adrenaline coursing through him. “Nettie—” he began, with a blend of urgency and reluctance.

“Miss Broussard will do just fine,” Nettie interjected decisively, her gaze shifting firmly to the front yard, where dusk seemed to swell with tension. “Max, he’s ready to leave.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, the sheriff’s deputy strode purposefully toward them. But deep down, Casper felt the weight of reality pressing against him. He knew he had exhausted all the politeness and respect extended to him during this tense encounter.

“I guess, then, I’ll see you in court, Miss Broussard,” he stated, hinting a bit of resignation in his tone. He made his way down the steps, each footfall echoing the gravity of the situation, and approached his Jeep. He started the vehicle, listening to the engine roar to life. Still, he remained stationary, his mind swirling with confusion as the second deputy maneuvered their cruiser to create a clear path for his departure.

Casper stole one last glance at Nettie, who stood on her patio, her expression a mix of concern and determination as she watched him. As he pulled out onto the road, uncertainty gnawed at him. He hadn’t anticipated this moment, and with it came the stark realization that his next move would not involve his brother’s case—something he had been dreading yet felt compelled to confront.

No. Something was intriguing about Nettie that pulled at him, a magnetic allure he found impossible to ignore. He felt compelled to delve deeper, to uncover the essence of what made her so captivating. Yet, he knew he couldn’t let this burgeoning attraction for a younger woman divert his focus from his paramount goal: getting his brother into rehab, a task that weighed heavily on his heart. However, this newfound curiosity about Nettie persisted, reminding him that he was at a crossroads. The opportunity to explore the enigmatic quality she exuded beckoned him, but he was acutely aware that he could not afford to be sidetracked from his responsibility. It was a delicate balance—his longing to discover more about her and his unwavering commitment to his brother’s recovery.

In all his thirty-six years, he had encountered numerous women whose personalities varied widely and whose lives wove intricate tapestries of experiences. Each one had left a distinct mark on his memory. Yet, none had managed to divert him from the responsibilities that consumed him—be they military missions fraught with danger or civilian tasks rooted in everyday life. But now, as he had stood before Nettie, he had found himself unsettled. Something was captivating about her petite frame and vibrant spirit that threatened to disrupt his steadfast focus, making him question what made her so different from all the others he had known.

He found himself again at that crossroads, feeling the weight of an enormous responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. His resolve needed fortification, for he felt the intense pull between two competing priorities: advocating fiercely for his brother’s case and nurturing a genuine relationship with Nettie. Until this moment, he had never tasted defeat. Every challenge he faced had been met with triumph. Yet, he realized that attempting to excel in both endeavors could lead to unforeseen consequences. Someone would inevitably bear the burden of his divided attention, and the last thing he wanted was for it to be Nettie—sharp-witted and spirited. Still, even more so, he could not allow it to be his brother, whose fate hung precariously in the balance as he fought on his behalf.

He realized how fucked he was no matter his next move.