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  "And what?" Gabe tightened his embrace.

  "And because I trust you," Casey whispered. Then she closed her eyes and fell asleep in his arms.

  Gabe lay awake for hours tormented by her words. He'd finally won Casey's trust.

  But he would lose it if she ever found out the truth about why he had first come to her house.

  Chapter 9

  Casey trusted him.

  He should tell her the truth. But if he did, she would probably throw him out.

  She sighed and curled up against him, and Gabe choked back the words. He watched her chest rise and fall in sleep, heard her tiny purr of contentment, and cocooned her in his arms.

  Nothing was going to hurt Casey ever again.

  Tomorrow he would interview more victims of the robberies, talk to Lt. Harper, try to figure out if or how Satterfield might be connected to the crimes and solve this case so he and Casey could make plans for the future.

  Shortly before dawn, he eased out of bed, slipped on his clothes and tiptoed back to Casey's side. He'd promised her he'd leave before Henry S. woke up, and he intended to keep his promise, even if his body ached to have her again.

  He stood watching her sleep for several minutes before he finally kissed her goodbye. As he leaned forward, his foot landed on a small robot lying on the floor. A loud screeching sound followed. Then a commanding, computer type voice issued orders about an impending attack and blinking, swirling lights blinded him.

  Gabe hissed. He half expected Casey's dog to leap up at the loud noise, but Dog swatted one paw over his floppy ear and his snoring merely rumbled louder.

  "Gabe?"

  He turned, then stumbled against the bed and fell on top of her.

  "It's Henry S.' transformer," Casey said.

  "I'm sorry," Gabe mumbled. "I didn't mean to wake you."

  Casey laughed as Gabe righted himself and moved over her. She slid her arms around his neck, then kissed him soundly. "You really know how to wake a girl up."

  "Did I hurt you?"

  Casey laughed. "Are you kidding? Waking up with you on top of me is better than my first cup of coffee." She touched his cheek. "Oh, no, Gabe look at your eye. It's purple."

  Gabe nuzzled her neck. "It doesn't matter. I'll tell everyone it's a love bruise, that this wonderfully passionate woman couldn't resist me."

  "That's true," Casey whispered.

  Gabe moaned. He wanted to stay in bed with her all day. But what if Henry S. came in? "I'd better go, sweetheart. It's almost morning."

  A sleepy contented look stretched across her face. "Gabe?"

  "What?"

  "You'll call, won't you?"

  Gabe took her in his arms. "I'll call." Then he kissed her again, stepped over the snoring Dog and tiptoed from the room before his resistance faded, and he dove back on top of her.

  * * *

  Casey couldn't get the image of her night with Gabe out of her mind as she and Henry S. settled at a table for lunch with her friends. She missed him already.

  "Okay, so what happened last night?" Jenna asked.

  Casey shrugged. "We went to the ballgame. The Braves won, and Henry S. had a great time, didn't you, buddy?"

  Henry S. swallowed a mouthful of hamburger and burped. "Woud, Mommy, wike Gabe."

  Casey patted his back. "Oh, Henry S., that's not one of the finer things Gabe taught you."

  Jenna rolled her eyes. "Gabe didn't have to teach him that. He's been doing it since he was born. Besides, I wasn't talking about the ballgame and you know it."

  Jill picked at her salad. "You really like this guy, don't you?"

  Casey traced the beads of moisture on the side of her glass of tea with her finger. "Yeah, I do."

  Jenna nudged Casey's arm. "Details, Case, come on spit 'em out."

  Henry S. spit a french fry onto the plate.

  Casey and Jenna laughed. "No, Henry S., Jenna was talking to me."

  "Mommy spit?" Henry S. asked, puckering his lips again.

  Casey shook her head. Sometimes having a two-year-old in the conversation really complicated things. "No, sweetie. She meant she wanted me to tell her something."

  "You're in love with him, aren't you?" Jill asked.

  Casey wiped a stream of ketchup off Henry S.' mouth and sighed. "It shows, doesn't it?"

  Jenna clapped her hands. "I knew it. Listen, Casey I'll take Henry S. tonight."

  "Gabe didn't mention anything about tonight," Casey said.

  "You could ask him over for dinner, you know."

  Jill slathered butter on a roll, then tore it in two. "She shouldn't chase him."

  "Inviting him to dinner isn't chasing," Jenna argued. "Besides, Jill, just because we're acting like a couple of wallflowers doesn't mean Casey has to."

  Jill frowned and chopped her cantaloupe into tiny bits.

  Casey pondered the idea. Maybe Jenna was right.

  "I guess Henry S. and I could stop by his office and ask him." Casey snapped her fingers and brightened. "I know. We're making pasta pictures this afternoon for my activity book. I'll invite Gabe over for pasta."

  "I'll pick Henry S. up right after I close the shop," Jenna offered.

  "Thanks." Casey studied her friends. "You know I've been thinking about the awards dinner at home."

  "Not that again?" Jill mumbled.

  Casey wiggled her eyebrows. "Gabe said he'd be my escort."

  Jenna squeezed her hand. "That's great, Case."

  Casey nodded. "Yeah, but you two still want to go, don't' you?"

  Jill sighed. "We want to see you get the award, but we could care less about those old high school kids."

  Casey wiped mustard from Henry S.' mouth and hands and picked him up. "You're right, Jill. I don't know why I was so worried about proving myself to those guys. We haven't seen them in ages."

  Jenna flashed her a grin. "True. When you have someone like Gabe Thornton, why would you even think about Dillard Drake?"

  Jill mumbled an amen. "We used to think he was a hunk. But he's probably completely bald and fat by now."

  Casey raised her glass and they clinked them in a toast. "We don't need them anyway."

  * * *

  Gabe hung up the phone and stared at his computer. Something strange was going on. He'd called Lt. Harper again and learned there were two more robberies.

  After plugging the information about the victims into his computer, he searched for similarities linking the victims. The items stolen were mostly electronics: televisions, computers, Ipods, cell phones, Ipads, ebook readers, fax machines, things that could be sold quickly. He'd called sources he'd dealt with before and hoped to get a line on a description of anyone currently selling stolen merchandise. Quickchange was checking out all the local pawn shops. Perhaps, the Switchblade gang committed the robberies.

  But why would they implicate Casey? And was there a connection between the story and Satterfield?

  The only similarity he'd found was that they all lived within ten miles of Casey.

  Now the police were investigating employees of local merchants to see if one of them was accessing addresses to make the hits.

  The telephone interrupted his thoughts. Lt. Harper's voice broke into a winded discussion about the case and ended with questions about Casey. Shoving his chair back, Gabe suddenly noticed he had on two different colored socks, one black and one brown.

  Being around Casey must be rubbing off on him.

  "I told you Casey McIntyre is not involved," Gabe said. "I've investigated her, Harper. You'd be wasting your time if you talked to her. I have a hunch though."

  A loud knock brought his head up, and he noticed Casey and Henry S. standing in his doorway. He covered the phone with his hand and motioned for them to come in.

  "Are we disturbing you?" Casey asked.

  "No, it's fine." Although he quickly stacked the folders on his desk, hoping to hide the ABC file. "I'll call you later and let you know if anything pans out."

  Henry S. wiggled f
rom Casey's arms and darted toward him. "Puter. Games?"

  "Yes, sport, " Gabe said as he ended the call. "That's my computer."

  Casey frowned and reached out to pull Henry S. away from his desk. "No, don't touch it, Henry S. We're not staying."

  Gabe scooped up Henry S. "I'll show you some games later, sport." He glanced at Casey. "This is a surprise."

  Through the glass window, Gabe saw Hank coming toward his office, and anxiety tightened his shoulders. "What are you two doing here?"

  Casey's smile faced. "We were close by and wanted to invite you to dinner."

  Gabe glanced anxiously toward the door. "Uh, sure. What time?"

  He ushered Casey and Henry S. out of his office, hoping to ward off Hank. If Hank saw Casey, he might realize she fit the description of the suspect the witness had sent in.

  "Seven?" Casey gave him a puzzled look.

  "Dwink." Henry S. pointed to the hall water fountain.

  Gabe tried to contain Henry S., but his wiggling body demanded freedom, so he sat him down on the floor. Henry S. toddled toward the water fountain.

  "Gabe, what's wrong?" Casey asked, searching his face. "If you don't want to come, that's okay."

  "No, I do." Gabe eyed Hank as he approached the fountain. "My mind's just preoccupied with this case I'm working on."

  Casey fidgeted. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have stopped by."

  Gabe started toward Henry S., but Casey caught his arm. "I obviously overstepped the boundaries by coming by your work."

  Stunned by Casey's question, Gabe halted. "No, no, I don't mind. Like I said, I'm just busy."

  For goodness sakes, he was doing everything in his power to protect her. "Casey, listen to me." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "Honey, I really want to come tonight, okay?"

  Casey relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Okay."

  "Wook!" Henry S. yelled.

  Casey and Gabe glanced up to see the toddler running toward them.

  "Wookie, Mommy! Fur."

  "Oh, no!" Casey shrieked.

  Gabe groaned. Henry S. was running toward them waving Hank's toupee in the air.

  * * *

  Casey tried to get over her mortification from Henry S.' stunt at Gabe's office as she and Henry S. parked at the store. "Come on, Henry S. Now, be good for Mommy in here."

  "Sucker?" Henry S. asked with innocent eyes.

  "Okay, Mommy will buy you one if you don't touch anything. We just have to pick up a couple of things." Casey scanned the aisles, her cheeks flaming when she finally spotted the display of condoms. Henry S. grabbed her leg and wiggled up and down.

  "Be still, sweetie. Mommy has to see which kind to buy." Casey stared at the dozens of boxes, amazed at the different brands. Extra thin, super thin, super sensitive, lubricated, non-lubricated, Classic Fit (was that like the blue jeans?), large, extra large, ribbed? Good grief—she didn't have a clue as to which type to buy.

  Henry S. tugged at her hand. "Mommy, pway!"

  Casey pried Henry S.' fingers off her leg. "We'll play when we get home. Just let Mommy get a box of balloons."

  "Bawoons!" Henry S. barreled forward to grab a box and tripped.

  "No, Henry S." Casey reached for him, snatching the end of his t-shirt as his fists rammed into the display. Condom boxes toppled over everywhere. A smocked clerk sighed and reached for a microphone.

  "Assistance needed for clean up in aisle three." Her loud voice boomed over the speaker and several people turned to stare.

  Casey grabbed a box of condoms, Henry S., and ran toward the checkout counter as fast as she could. Maybe she could get out of the store before anyone recognized her.

  * * *

  Hoping to distract herself from Gabe by focusing on work, Casey and Henry S. spent the afternoon gluing and painting different kinds of pasta into designs and shapes for the letter "p".

  She was still grimacing at the condom and toupee disaster. Thank goodness, Hank had laughed the matter off, although his slick bald head had turned a brilliant shade of red. Henry S.' attempts to place the shock of fake hair back on Hank's head had caused Casey to bite her lip in order to stifle the laughter. Could she help it if her son thought the toupee looked better covering one of Hank's ears?

  Gabe had quickly steered her outside, and once again Casey's insecurities had surfaced. She'd had the uneasy feeling he hadn't wanted his boss to see her. But why?

  Get over it, Casey, The man told you his mind was on his work. Accept it, he's a nice man, and you deserve some happiness. He didn't even get angry with Henry S.

  At four o'clock, the doorbell rang. Casey greeted a delivery man and signed for a package.

  She tore open the packaging, touched by the kaleidoscope Gabe had enclosed for Henry S. The tin of candy M & M's would last a month, that is, if she hid them from Henry S. Maybe she would make M & M mountains with him for the letter "m" in her activity book.

  Peeking under the tissue paper, she discovered a surprise for her. A lovely green halter dress. Underneath the dress, she found a small jewelry box. Her hands shook as she opened it, her breath catching.

  A small emerald centered on a delicate gold chain glistened back. A lacy note card held a message from Gabe: Here's "g," "h," "j," and "k and m". I'll bring "I" ice cream for dessert. "L" is a surprise. Wear this dress tonight, and we'll work our way to the letter "n." The colors of the card remind me of your eyes. Guess which color they turned last night when you were in my arms?

  Casey's heart pattered. Filled with passion, what color did her eyes turn? And what was the letter "n"? Her "n" was neverending—what was Gabe's?

  Excitement filled her, then plummeted to reality when she heard Henry S.' laughter. Sensing trouble, she rushed to the kitchen and groaned.

  "Wook, Mommy. Pasta piggie."

  Multi-colored noodles arranged in a pig's shape decorated her wall. "Oh, Henry S., it's a pretty piggie, but you glue the pasta on the paper to make pictures, not on the walls, buddy!"

  * * *

  Gabe was running late. He rubbed his hand along his jaw, hoping the extra time he'd taken to shower and shave again was worth it. At least his socks matched now.

  Picking the last piece of tissue off his face where he'd nicked himself with his razor, he dodged Casey's beast of a pet as Dog racing around the yard as he made his way to the front porch.

  Mentally he ticked over details of the case as he climbed the steps. He'd spent the afternoon in some hole in the wall joints and alleys meeting contacts, and the smell of garbage and cheap liquor had permeated his clothes. At least he was finally making progress with the story. All the stolen merchandise had been traced back to the media warehouse on Fifth Street. Harper had checked out all the employees, but so far zilch, although he had a feeling that was the lead they needed. He and Quickchange met pawnshop dealers and had identified three teenagers with priors as suspects, but he had no evidence.

  He had a feeling he was on the brink of cracking the story. If Casey hadn't looked so uncertain this afternoon, he'd skip dinner and still be working.

  The fresh flowers in his hand and the gift were meant as an apology for his abrupt behavior at his office. Hank had questioned him about Casey after she left, and he hoped he'd satisfied his boss's curiosity.

  When Casey opened the door, his lungs tightened. She looked stunning in the green dress and necklace he'd sent. The neckline of the dress dipped to a tantalizing low, exposing her creamy flesh.

  The temptation to ask her if they had to have dinner first before he stripped her hit him. He'd have her for dessert.

  Casey waved him in. "It's nice to see you tonight, Gabe. I... thought you might change your mind."

  He narrowed his eyes, although his tone was teasing. "Why? Because your little boy stole my boss's hairpiece?"

  Casey relaxed. "Thanks for taking it so well."

  "Hell, it was funny," Gabe admitted. He remembered the flowers and held them up to her. "These are for you."

  Casey sn
iffed the fragrant petals. "You didn't have to bring me gifts. You've already sent me too much."

  Gabe pulled her into his arms. "We're not finished with the alphabet yet, are we?"

  Casey smiled and kissed him tenderly. "No, and I've had fun all afternoon wondering what you meant in your card. What is the letter 'n?"'

  Gabe tickled her earlobe with his tongue. "Any ideas?"

  Casey seared him with a kiss. "A few, but we have to eat dinner first."

  Gabe grinned. "Okay, food first. Then you can open your presents."

  She took his hand and led him in, and while she put the flowers in water, he studied the room. Something was different.

  Then it hit him. The room was clean, neater than usual. He didn't have to dodge toys or clothes or any of Henry S.' other items. "The house looks nice."

  "Henry S. and I picked up," Casey said with a shrug. "I bought some storage bins, and I'm going to teach him to clean up. We wrote names and pasted pictures on the boxes this afternoon so he knows where everything goes." Casey pointed to several brightly colored plastic tubs. The fluorescent yellow and green didn't exactly match her country décor, but she obviously didn't seem to mind.

  He was impressed at her way of handling the problem. In his house, everything had its place. His mother had been rigid. This house looked like a happy home for a little boy, not a showcase.

  Casey led him to a candlelit table and poured them both a glass of wine.

  "I'm sorry I was late," Gabe said, taking his seat. "I got hung up on my assignment. Where's Henry S.?"

  "With Jenna. I swear she begs to babysit. She needs to have her own children someday."

  Gabe's dimple twitched. "Remind me to thank her."

  Casey claimed the chair facing him. "I heard you visited her shop."

  Gabe accepted the heaping plate of stuffed shells from Casey, his eyes widening with appreciation. "Yeah. It's nice. As a matter of fact, that's where I bought your gift today."

  "Really? Lace from the Love 'N Lace, how clever," Casey said.

  "Well, you had laughter on your list for 'L,' but I couldn't buy that. Besides, that's the gift you've given me. You've shown me how to laugh again."