CASPER

Goddamn it.

Thrusting my hands through my hair, I storm out into the yard. Mandy Pearce will be the fucking end of me. Sam Sweets this, Sam Sweets that, blah, blah, blah. Fucking hell, I did not sign up for every word out of her pretty mouth to be about him.

Did I know that Sam has great genetics?

Nope.

Did I know that he was once on TV in a commercial for vitamins? The same multivitamins he still takes daily?

No, I did not.

Did I know that he’s been in precisely three relationships?

Do I look like I fucking want to know? Do I look like I fucking care about the guy who’s going to take Mandy away from me? I swear to God.

Mandy follows me, stops right outside the blue door. “All I was saying is that Sam was the best in his class at Le Cordon Bleu. I didn’t mean to insult you. You’re both great chefs.”

Balling my fists by my side, I suck in a breath and push it out through my nose. It’s not the remark about my cooking skills that gets my goat. After all, I graduated from before I settled in Manhattan. I’ve got more stars than her perfect Sam, and I can speak fluent French, the fucking language of love. Well, I could if I wanted to. It’s been a while since I’ve had any use for it. Or stars. Or Manhattan.

But that’s not the point. “I don’t give a fuck where he learned to cook, Mandy. Or what multivitamin he takes. Or how damn cute his babies will be.”

What did I think she was going to do? Forget all about him? Ask me to stay? Or to take her with me?

“Our babies,” she corrects.

Damn it all to hell. Where’d this sudden onslaught of baby fever come from? Most of the past five days has been spent in a haze of offhand comments about babies. And Sam. And Sam’s babies, which ended up with me cutting short her musings about the man’s cock.

Christ. I can’t do this with her. I can’t speculate on another man’s penis with the woman who makes me want the things she talks about having with him. Things I thought I forgot about after Juliette. Things I didn’t expect to want again, but I do. If she told me right now that she wanted me to make a baby with her I’d do it. Up against this door. No question. Not even a heartbeat’s pause. I’d do whatever it took.

Stalking toward her, I ask, “What if Sam’s not your Mister Right?”

Her eyes widen as she opens her mouth, but I don’t let her talk. Mandy Pearce can run circles around you, tie you up in knots and leave you wondering how it happened before you get a word in edgewise if you don’t beat her to it. “Have you considered that you’re wrong about him? Sure, he’s going to fall in love with you. The guy doesn’t stand a chance. But do you really think he’s going to live up to your expectations?”

She doesn’t blink, doesn’t fidget, doesn’t drop her gaze. “Of course he wi—”

“But what if he doesn’t? There’s no guarantee,” I huff. “You want kids with him? That’s why you’re carping on and on and on about them right now?”

“Yes.” She nods. “Of course I want kids with him.”

“What if he can’t have them?”

“We’ll adopt. I was adopted, remember?”

“What if he doesn’t want them at all?”

“He already told me he does.”

“Did he?” Have they gotten closer than I assumed? The thought almost physically knocks me back.

“He told me he thinks he should settle down and start a family. It’s what he’s said all along, even when he was telling me I was too young.”

Is there any point in questioning her decision? She’s so pig headed. So stubborn and determined. Sam Sweets will be bowled off his feet, and I can’t bear the idea that he isn’t enough for her. That it should be me. “What if you wake up one day and you realize that great guy has turned into a fat slob who always smells like kitchen prep, and he doesn’t actually leave you full of bliss?”

“That’s not going to happen. He takes excellent care of himself and his mother is a—”

“But what if it does?” I groan in frustration. “And then you realize you’re so far from happy that there’s an empty space inside you that nothing can fill? What’s your plan for when your head fails you?”

“It won’t,” she argues. “He’s a sure bet.”

“Why?” I press her back against that blue door. The same one I’ve imagined her naked against time and time again. Only now it’s not her body I want to see as I graze my palm down her throat and press it to her chest. “Why is your head better than your heart?”

“Why do you care?” she asks.

“Because I do. Because we’re friends.” Because I want her to be certain of her choices. Because I want her to tell me she’s changed her mind and I’m the one instead. Gripping the back of her neck, I peer into her watery, bright eyes. Watery, because of me? Upsetting her deflates me faster than anything else could. I take her face between my hands, silken strands of her hair sticking to my fingers where they cradle her. “So tell me.”

 “My head is logical enough to pick someone who won’t hurt me. My heart would stomp all over itself for love.” Blinking widely, she gulps down a mouthful of air. “That’s fine for those who have people to fall back on, people who will love them no matter what. But you and I don’t have that. Neither of us have enough left to risk, do we?”

“We have nothing.” The words come out raw, painful, because the only thing I have left that means anything to me is Soldier, and I’m risking him every day I stay here. For her. Because I need to help her find happiness. With her Mr. Right. Who isn’t me.

What would she say if she knew? One word from her could turn my whole world upside down again, and I’m not ready for that. I can’t let Juliette go. She was everything to me for so long. I can’t give up Soldier because maybe this girl in front of me fixes something inside me. Not letting her know how attached I’m becoming is easier than imagining what I’d do if she felt the same way.

“Exactly. So you understand why being with Sam is the right move for me?” She pushes at my chest.

No. No, I don’t understand it at all. Pulling her to me, I press my lips to her forehead and breathe in the sugary fragrance of her hair. Mandy Pearce deserves everything she wants. I just wish it was me. “I think you’re wrong.”

“You do?” She exhales, her breath stroking my Adam’s apple as the gap between us disappears.

Maybe it’s all me, moving closer, pushing her flat to the door, but I want to believe it’s not. I want to believe the reason her hands spread across my chest is because she can’t keep them off me, and not because she’s trying to keep me at bay.

“Yes, I fucking do.”

“And why is that? What do you think is right for me?”

Me. Fuck it. Me. I’m the guy. Not him. I almost tell her that. It’s on the tip of my tongue. But then a bunch of kids start yelling somewhere out in the field that stretches behind us.

Mandy pushes me away. “You don’t have an answer, because you don’t know. You think because you rode in here on your horse and started bossing me around that you know what’s right for me? I’ve known what I wanted for much longer than that. Even before I knew Sam. You have no idea how long I’ve held out for Mr. Right. How long I’ve waited for the perfect man to come along. This isn’t some crazy scheme I came up with when Sam came to town. Or even when I met him the first time, over a year ago. I’ve known what I wanted for years, studied men and analysed them and made decisions all based around the future I’ve chosen. And I am so close to getting what I want. He’s the one, and pretty soon he’s going to work that out too. So can we please stick to the plan?”

What else is there to say except, “Fine.”

“Good.”

Mandy Pearce is heartbreakingly, breathtakingly beautiful when she’s being stubborn like this. I can’t handle it anymore, but I don’t want to let her go. “But I have a condition.”

“What is that?”

“We make this seem even more real. We lead Sam to believe that if he wants you he’ll have to pull out all stops to steal you away from me. Starting with you staying at the ranch with me every night until we... until we’re done with this farce.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she says. “When what we really need to do is break up.”

“Break up?”

“Right.”

Because this is a charade. One I have to get away from before it does me in. “Of course. We have to break up. The sooner we do that the better.”

“Exactly.” She gives a sharp nod of her chin. “You’ve already taken Soldier away from here. I can only imagine you’re restless and impatient to move on as well.”

Then I can work on forgetting her. “So how do you want to play this out?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“What? You don’t have a plan for how this is supposed to go?”

“No.” She looks at me uncertainly, expectantly.

“Okay.” I exhale. This is happening and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it, which means it’ll go easier if I just give in to the fact that she isn’t meant to be mine. “We should go into town and make sure we’re seen by your Sam. Wouldn’t want to deprive him of front row seats.”

“Tonight then?” She cocks an eyebrow and waits for my answer.

“Absolutely.” I step away from her. And then tomorrow I’ll take Soldier and move on. The same as I always have. Like I planned to before I started wondering what it would be like to stand still with Mandy Pearce. “Mayhem?”

“Yes. I’m going to go home and primp. I want to be at my best.” She swipes her hands down her skirt as she walks away, and it hits me. It knocks my breath clean out of my lungs. I’m never going to be able to touch her again. This might well have been the last time. I’m not going to get to savor her taste or the way her skin blushes all over when she cries out my name. I don’t get to kiss her anymore, or listen to her voice, or tell her what to do in the kitchen. Or feel ten feet tall when she looks at me like maybe I’m better than perfect Sam.

How can I possibly feel more for Mandy Pearce as she walks away from me than I did for Juliette when she died? How can the second time my world stops be so much worse than the first?

***

Mayhem is pure chaos. I guess they got the name right when they chose it. Out on the vinyl dance floor Mandy and Summer and this other girl named Ashleigh who’s apparently Summer’s other best friend wiggle to the music while I play pool with Gabe and Dylan. Any other night and I’d maybe say the two guys are enjoyable company, but everything is sour tonight. Even the beer I’ve been nursing for almost thirty minutes now.

Mandy looks so damn beautiful. She practically glows and she’s wearing this ridiculous silver mini dress that is just killing me inside. The back drapes open almost to her ass and it’s clingy in all the right places and her pink lace bra peeks through in a way that leaves me uncomfortable as well as ready to rip the limbs from anyone who looks at her. Which basically means I’ve been death glaring Sam fucking Sweets all night.

And he’s been glowering back at me. It’s funny, when you think about it. He’s the one who told Mandy she wasn’t good enough for him. He’s the asshole who made her feel rejected. And still he’s the one she’s choosing to be with. But right now, he’s jealous of me the way I am of him. He’s wondering whether she could ever feel about him the way she supposedly does about me. He hasn’t got a fucking clue that I’m nothing to her.

My cell rings and I put down my beer before I answer. “What’s going on?”

“There was a woman here looking for you.” It’s hard to hear Claire with all the noise. “She said her name’s Moira, and that she’s here for the horse. She was quite adamant that I hand him over.”

My heart jack-knifes before I recall that Soldier isn’t at the ranch. I took precautions. I moved him as soon as I chose to stay. I march around the crowd in the middle of the room, slip through a door that leads into a tight corridor behind the main area, where it’s quieter. “Tell her he’s not on the ranch and that she should discuss our business with me.”

“I tried to tell her that he’s not stabled here, and that she should come back and talk to you in the morning,” Claire tells me.

“Good.” I exhale. I took a risk staying here after she showed up. I couldn’t say no to Mandy. Or maybe I couldn’t say no to the way she makes me feel, but I should have known better. Sticking around wasn’t smart. It won’t take Moira long to find Soldier when there’s only a handful of stables close by. “I’ll deal with it. She won’t bother you and Razer again. I promise.”

“I’m more worried about you. She left threatening to call the police on you, Cas. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Yeah. Mandy Pearce is some kind of trouble. I knew it from the start. Doesn’t help me now, though, when I’m tied up in knots over her. Watching her with Sam is killing me. Knowing I’ll lose her by the end of tonight is twisting me up inside. Knowing I could lose Soldier because I couldn’t live without the way Mandy Pearce makes me feel is terrifying. And what if Moira actually meant it when she threatened to involve the cops this time? “Nope. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Are you going to be leaving soon?” Claire asks.

“I think I might be.” I lean against the wall and scrub at the top of my head. There’s no point in staying any longer anyway. “Mandy’s good in the kitchen, though, and she’ll be able to wrangle you some help for the last week of camp, I’m sure.”

“We’ll survive. It’s only a few more days,” Claire says. “Will we see you before you go?”

“I don’t know.”

“If there’s anything we can do…you’ve got Razer’s number.”

“Yes. Absolutely.” I try not to let the thickness in my throat, and the slow, tight way my lungs squeeze come through in my answer. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Cas?” Mandy says as I hang up and slide my phone into my pocket. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I respond, still facing the wall, concentrating on breathing in and out. I’m perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like three months with this beautiful, maddening girl didn’t spin my world like a top. Whichever way I turn I lose something important to me tonight. The past, the present, the future. It’s all on the table.

Juliette’s laughter fills my head. The memory of her hands finds my skin. She’s whispering dirty words in my ear with her atrocious French accent. It was so bad, so, so bad. Remembering it now makes me snort.

“How is it we’ve lived in Paris for three years and your accent is still as twangy as it was the day I met you?”

“It’s not,” she says, grinning up at me. “Memories are funny, don’t you think? Right now, this memory didn’t happen quite like this. You were so angry, Casper. You had plans. Big plans for the two of us.”

“Because I loved you. I wanted everything with you.”

“You were blind.” She shakes her head. “You still are.”

“Cas?” Mandy touches my shoulder and I jump. My thoughts fall away like crackling leaves.

Locking my arm around her waist, I pull her between me and the wall. Her skin is hot and damp from dancing. Her dress clings to her curves, iridescent and glittery. Pale bangs hang like a wave across one eye, and I push them out of the way so I can stare into those pretty greens. Was I blinded? Am I still? Mandy Pearce is so dazzling that I can’t see anything but her when she’s in front of me. I ache to hold onto that bright spark she lights inside me when she’s in my arms. In my bed. In my life.

“Are you okay?” She repeats herself, touching my face much like she did the first time I forgot to be surly with her. She’d surprised us both. Taken my breath away. Just like she does now. She may as well be a lightning strike.

“ de toi.” I exhale the words like a prayer.

“What?” She stares up at me with wide eyes that crinkle around the corners. “What does that mean?”

“N-nothing.” I brush off her curiosity with a shake of my head. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I didn’t even know you knew another language.”

“French,” I say. “From my years abroad.”

“In Paris,” she corrects. “When you were actually happy. Do you think I would have liked that, Cas?”

“I don’t know.” Funny how these last few weeks I suspect I wasn’t as miserable as she makes me sound. “But I would have liked you. I like you now. I suspect I always will.”

“That’s good,” she says. “Because I want to be your friend. I want you to call me when you’re on the road with Soldier. I want you to text me, or email me, or send smoke signals.”

“Friends? That’s what you want?”

“Uh-huh.”

I study her face, searching for something. A spark, an inkling that she’s holding back on me, but Mandy Pearce doesn’t hold back. She’s insufferable with the way she puts her thoughts into words. I clear my throat. “You were looking for me. You need something.”

“I do. Yes.” She swallows and I want to chase that supple movement of muscles with my mouth. “You think I’m wrong, don’t you? Is that what you just said? Tell me what it means. Je suis amo—”

“Does it matter?” Because if it matters—

“No, I guess not.” She lifts a shoulder and drops it as she glances at our feet. We’re toe to toe, but we couldn’t be further apart. “It’s time to break up, Cas.”

 “Is it?” When it’s the last thing I want to do.