“Teagan, just hold it still.”
The redhead wrestled her end of the shelf to make it even with Casey’s. “I’m trying, Case. You’re the vertically challenged one standing on a desk. I can barely reach this high on the wall.”
Sure enough, Teagan was stretched out on her tiptoes, her Toms buckling under her feet. Casey envied her long, pale legs. Teagan was a good six inches taller than Casey’s five-foot-two frame, and Casey cursed her friend’s height and ability to reach places outside of Casey’s reach. And loved her more than she could ever put into words.
“Well I guess height isn’t good for everything.”
Teagan rocked back on her heel, and Casey caught the full weight of the shelf with an umph. Casey fumbled to keep the shelf straight as Teagan stepped back to observe, a grin on her face. “And that would be why you called Shawn for backup?”
Casey gave up, letting the shelf bump to the floor. She plopped down on the desk, her legs swinging. Anytime she or Teagan needed help, Shawn was their first call. She’d thought about calling Micah, but common sense convinced her otherwise. The guy got under her skin like no one’s business. There was that broken thing. That cocky thing. That sarcastic thing. Oh. And that attraction thing. Wouldn’t want to forget about that.
Casey couldn’t forget about that.
“Hello, earth to Casey. Have you heard from Wonder Boy since you texted him an hour ago? We are no closer to getting these shelves on the wall.” Five floating shelves sat in disarray around their feet. Casey loved to decorate—watch a space come alive with personality—and she’d been dying to finish her office at Ellie’s Place. Now, she officially hated her decision to use the shelves. But she’d committed, and she didn’t back down on a commitment—even if the commitment only extended to sleek, wooden shelves that aggravated her.
She fired off another text to Shawn. “Let’s try again, Teag.”
Casey stood, trying to balance on the desk. It wobbled beneath her feet. She overcorrected and flailed her arms but no use. She shrieked, tipped backwards. And landed against something much too warm and muscled to be the floor.
“Looks like I arrived just in time.”
That smooth, teasing voice. Casey wished she’d just smacked the tile.
She fought to untangle herself from his arms, ignoring how strong they felt, how familiar. How utterly, annoyingly wonderful.
“What are you doing here, Richards?” She snapped.
His brow arched into that rich, dark, annoyingly attractive hair of his. “I believe you rang for a hero? Shawn couldn’t make it so he sent the better option.”
“You mean his sidekick?”
Point one for Teagan. Casey almost forgave her for being tall and gorgeous. Almost.
“Sidekick? I’ll have you know that heroes have other hero friends, which is why Shawn sent me.”
Casey rolled her eyes. “Well, Captain America, we need help hanging these shelves. Think you can manage that?”
Teagan snorted. “Correction: Casey needs help hanging these shelves. Her short legs can’t keep up.”
Micah’s mouth tipped at the corner just barely as the full weight of his stare met hers. “I bet she can hack it.”
Casey went warm all over. She didn’t like it. Most guys who looked at her like that took in every inch of her body, and a hunger grew in their gaze. Micah looked at her and through her, and his gaze felt all too knowing, all too observant. And all too comforting.
Get a grip Casey Denae Stewart. He’s not staying. And he’s just like every other guy.
But every other guy would have visually undressed her. Under Micah’s warm gaze, she just felt beautiful. Strong. Capable.
A throat cleared on the other side of the room. Casey snapped from her thoughts and whirled to confront Teagan. She shot daggers at her best friend, an all too knowing smile gracing her face. These warm, nice, terrible feelings about Micah Richards ended now. The butterflies in her stomach had been replaced by moths long ago. She didn’t have room for romance. Didn’t have anything to give. It had all been taken.
“Put me to work, Shorty.”
A few more comments like that and all the warm feelings would quickly disappear. She just needed to treat him like every other man. Every other red-blooded man who had ever walked through her home as a kid.
One problem. Micah Richards wasn’t like every other man. He helped. He teased without expectation. He cared. In another life she could maybe like him but not in this one. Micah waltzed over to the pile of shelves and picked up a smaller one. “Here?” He motioned to the marks on the wall and then began to hammer.
Casey only nodded as she eyed the blank wall flanking her desk, imagining what the space would look like once complete. Rays from the gentle autumn sun filtered through the blinds on the rectangular window set level with Casey’s shoulders. It overlooked the basketball courts, her favorite place to watch the kids and do a little mentoring or reading. She shivered a little, the air growing cooler just in time for Thanksgiving week. It was Saturday morning, and they’d cut back on the heater since the kids who visited the center on weekends usually came to play a game outside.
“So what do I get in return for getting me out of bed this morning?” Micah said above his hammer strokes.
“You weren’t out of bed yet?” She rubbed her arms, the friction providing temporary heat. She slouched against the wall. “It’s ten in the morning. You’re wasting good daylight.”
Micah winced but hammered another corner of a shelf into the wall. She bent down and handed another shelf to Micah. “Let’s just say after years in the military and early morning workouts or assignments on deployment I am experiencing what it feels like to sleep in on the weekends for the first time since high school.”
“Ah, back when you were a big star athlete?”
The bang of the hammer smacked the wall harder, louder. Micah’s knuckles turned white. Teagan turned around and frowned. “Play nice,” she mouthed.
But Casey didn’t know how to play nice with Micah. She could handle the sarcasm, the nicknames, the bravado. But this Micah who got up to help, the one who taught the kids, the one who saw more than her body—that Micah was dangerous. Taunting was the only defense she had.
“I don’t know about star. What about you, Doc?” He motioned to the graduate diploma on the wall and the leadership and counseling books on her shelf. “Always want to be a shrink?”
Casey held up a nail. A few more strikes and the fourth shelf hung secure. “First of all, not a doctor or a shrink. Just a licensed counselor, which looks a little different in my role here.” She studied the staggered pattern of the shelves and nodded in satisfaction. Micah pinned a couple more nails between his lips and held the last shelf in place.
“So why that?”
“I guess you could say high school was a catalyst for me.” She tossed a quick glance to Teagan who now studied her carefully. Thankfully, Casey no longer fell apart when mentioning those years. Few knew the full extent of her story. She guarded her past carefully.
One more tack of the hammer, and five floating shelves graced the wall behind her desk in the small office. A decorator she was not, but she knew how to pick out the things others overlooked and polish them until they were something unique, something beautiful. Teagan said it had always been Casey’s gift. She’d been alley shopping and dumpster diving more times than she could count, dragging Shawn and Teagan until she found diamonds in the trash.
In fact, her whole office was filled with knickknacks she’d found and refurbished. A bookshelf from an alley in Highland Park. An end table from the dumpster at an apartment complex in Uptown. Lanterns from an alley in the Bishop Arts district. The desk from the front yard of a home in North Dallas. What people threw out, she rescued and made into something beautiful. She studied her office. It almost felt finished.
A chuckle made her spin right into that hard chest again. His arms steadied her before she took a few steps back, her neck tipping to take in his tall frame. Maybe she hated him for being tall, too. “Have you ever heard of personal space?”
His lips spread into a wicked grin. Casey had to force herself not to focus on his mouth. She squirmed. She hadn’t wanted a guy to kiss her since high school. And she didn’t want Micah to kiss her now. Not even a little.
As if sensing her struggle, he edged closer. “You don’t listen well, Doc. I asked what I get for getting up early to come do manual labor?”
Treat him like a friend and kissing feelings would go away. She could do that. Casey patted his shoulder. “Well done, sidekick.”
She spun on her heel but was yanked back. That chest and that cocky attitude again.
“Ok, lesson one, Soldier. Put a bubble of space between you and the person you are talking to.”
Micah shrugged but dropped her arm. “Space is relative. Besides, it’s much more fun to see you squirm.” This time, he cast a wink at Teagan.
“Oh, yeah. She’s real cute when she squirms.” A grinning Teagan stepped up next to Micah, forming a wall of “make Casey uncomfortable.” She didn’t like this game.
Casey looked back and forth between the two. Now they would make a cute couple. Teagan was tall with ivory skin, bright red hair, and a personality that lit up a room. He was tall, dark, and handsome, with wicked charm and the ability to sweep any girl off her feet. And he smelled good, too—like spice and forest—and she hated him again.
Hated herself for noticing.
And liking it.
“Okay, okay, how about breakfast on me?”
This time, even his grin was dangerous. “Oh, no, princess. You woke me up. I get to pick. Dinner and the drive-in. Tonight. Shawn told me it was a nice way to spend the weekend, and I want to get out of the city.”
Casey had to snap her mouth shut. Had he just asked her out on a date? Based on Teagan’s glowing smile, she knew her suspicions were accurate.
“Let’s just stick to breakfast.”
“Don’t I get to choose my reward?”
Casey crossed her arms and planted her feet, not caring that he was a Navy SEAL and a good foot taller than her. “No. That wouldn’t be fair to Teagan. She helped, too. I can take you both to breakfast as a thank-you.”
“Oh, by all means, be unfair to Teagan. This one time it is totally okay.” Her best friend grabbed her purse from the chair and practically sprinted from the room with a wave and a quick wink.
Traitor.
“I’ll pick you up at six.”
“This sounds a little too much like a date instead of a thank-you.”
Micah took a step closer, his face now hovering right above her. His voice lowered to a husky monotone. “So what if it is? C’mon, Casey. What have you got to lose? I promise it’ll be fun and relaxing. Just what you need right now. Please?”
Again, not like any other man. Despite his closeness, she knew he wouldn’t push her, knew he would challenge but back down if necessary, because despite his charm, sarcasm, and annoying ability to set those decrepit moths fluttering, she knew he was a gentleman.
And she wanted to trust him.
What would it hurt to go out and have fun like a normal young adult on a date on the weekend? Just this one time. He was leaving anyway, so it would be an isolated incident.
Casey wrapped her arms around her waist and took a step back. “Fine. I’ll be ready at six fifteen.”