Her eyes clouded up with tears and she didn’t finish her sentence. One tear fell onto her cheek. Oh, man. Why’d he have to ask her about her business? Audrey had already filled him on some of her story. But was it a sin to try to get her to speak to him? Or even look him straight in the eye? Protective urges warred inside his acid-drenched gut. It was all he could do to keep from reaching for her to give her the comfort she needed.
To help make the sadness go away.
He knew the pain of losing a parent. When he was a teenager, a deadly storm had taken the lives of both of his folks. The ache never fully went away. It was there and sometimes a random memory would come out of nowhere and shatter him.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She straightened and pulled herself together, using the back of her hand to wipe moisture from her eyes. “I will be. I...I don’t usually do this. It’s just that...sometimes it hits me all over again.”
“I know the feeling.”
A sigh wobbled from her lips. “I know you do.”
Keep her talking. “Audrey told me after George died, you continued living here to help your mother adjust.”
“Yeah, I did.” Susanna leaned forward, braced her elbows on her knees and cradled her face with her palms. Gazing straight ahead, she went on, “Mom was a mess. She needed me, so I stayed, but I had to earn a living. We’d been scraping by and we really needed the money. That’s when Sweet Susie’s was born.”
“You put your life on hold for your dad and mom.”
She shrugged. “I wanted to do it. To me, there was no other option.”
She wasn’t his sister’s silly young friend anymore. Her loyalty and dedication to her family was admirable...and rare. Just when she had an opportunity to branch out on her own, she’d taken Ally in because the child had nowhere else to go, as Audrey had put it.
If only he wasn’t noticing how Susanna Hart had grown into a pretty sensational woman all around.
He studied her profile. Her chin was delicate, her cheekbones high, her skin dewy soft. Her ponytail hung loose. Long wispy strands of hair framed her face, the color reminding him of autumn leaves right before they turned, golden in some spots, red in others, blending naturally into something phenomenal.
His gaze dipped to her soft shoulders exposed by the cotton tank top she wore and then farther down to where her top dipped into a smooth valley covering her breasts, which were round and amazingly full for her small stature. She had to be five-foot-four to his six-foot-two. Because he was a glutton for punishment he gave her legs a quick once over. She was wearing shorts. It wasn’t her fault it was summer and she had long, gorgeous, tanned legs. He tried his damnedest not to stare at them.
Ten years ago, those legs had wrapped around him. She’d fit him perfectly and it hadn’t been awkward making love to her. No, the awkwardness had come immediately afterward, once he’d realized what he’d done.
Crap. He had no business going there. No business stirring up trouble in his head.
He took a swallow of his beer and pulled his gaze away, looking out at the same aggravating tree she’d been focused on since she stepped out of her house.
No one said another word.
Casey sipped his beer quietly and put his thirty-five-year-old hormones on notice. He’d be damned not to say what he’d come here to say to Susanna. His mission was clear. First he needed to break the ice and gain her friendship back. He saw no way around it.
He set his bottle down, stretched out one leg and pivoted his body toward her. “We should probably talk about it, Susanna,” he said quietly.
Her eyes squeezed shut. She made no effort to conceal her dismay and when she opened them again, that damned tree still held her attention. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”
“I do.”
“Why? It’s in the past.”
“Because we’re neighbors again and you haven’t looked me in the eye since I got here.”
“Have too.”
“Not for more than a second and only when you had no other choice.”
Her mouth twisted and she turned sharply, forcing her eyes to his. “I’m looking at you now.”
He nodded. “That’s a start.”
* * *
“A start?” she asked.
Her heart beat wildly in her chest, her pulse pounding in her ears. Casey had no idea what he’d done to her that night. Or how hard it was for her to face the man she’d wanted for so long. That night, he hadn’t taken her virginity. She’d offered it to him without words, but with every emotion she’d held inside. She’d wanted him to be her first. She’d needed his comfort and his body and hadn’t felt an iota of guilt about what she’d done.
But she’d had no idea that he would rebuke her so harshly right afterward. She had no idea how many years the hurt would linger.
“We were friends once,” he said.
Her eyes begged to narrow, her lips warred to tighten but amazingly she kept composed. “You want us to be friends again?”
There was a long pause before he nodded. “Yeah.”
Why had he hesitated? This meeting had been all his idea. Was he allowing the idea to sink in with her? Or was it something else?
“Is it because Audrey and I are friends?”
He gave that some thought. “Partly, but mostly it’s because you ran out that night and we...I’ve always felt badly about the way things ended up between us. When you came looking for Audrey that night, I saw how upset you were. All I wanted to do was comfort you in Audrey’s absence. I wanted to help. I never thought it would lead to...to—”
“I get it, Casey. You gave me pity sex.”
“Crap, Suse,” he shot back as if she’d set him on fire. “I didn’t say that.”
His eyes darkened, but she didn’t back down. He didn’t intimidate her. He wanted this conversation and now he was going to get it. “You thought you took advantage of me? You feel guilty as hell about it, don’t you?”
“Hell, yeah...I do. I called you that night to apologize. To make sure you were okay.”
Susanna took a deep breath. “I wasn’t okay.”
Casey shut his eyes and rubbed at his temples. “Oh, man...I know.”
“You don’t know, Casey. You haven’t got a clue.”
“I know I hurt you...I spoke harshly to you afterwards. I was mad at myself more than anything and everything I said to you that night came out wrong.”
“You got that part right.”
“I should’ve known better. I mean, you and I...we weren’t anything but—”
“But what?” A short gasp escaped her throat. “We were never really friends. I was your little sister’s good buddy and you mostly tolerated me.”
“Not true. I liked you. Those last few years, we hung out. You, me and Audrey.”
“You treated your sister like a baby and so you thought of me in the same way.”
“I know I was hard on Audrey. I tried to raise her right, but what the hell did I know about raising a kid? A girl, no less. She was so much younger than me and I felt I had to