“I can’t have you knowing those things.”
“You think I’d tell someone?” She couldn’t say which hurt worse now, that or the fear of hearing the details. Do I even know who I’ve been sleeping with? Who I’ve let into my life, and my daughter’s?
She did know who Casey was, in some ways. Knew he was kind, funny, patient, caring, passionate. She’d finally done it, it seemed. After years and years of falling for bad boys, she’d found a good man—good in the here and now, if not in his past. A good man who lit her up, and who seemed lit right back. She refused to give up on that dream, not until she knew the ugly truth.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he said. “Not at all. But if you knew, and somebody came investigating me in a few weeks or months or years, that could make you complicit.”
“Jesus, Casey. What on earth did you do?”
He smiled his apology, the gesture tired and sad.
“You promised me you didn’t hurt anyone.”
He shook his head. “Not physically, no. I was a thief, but in exactly what way, I can’t tell you. Not yet, anyway.”
“Okay.” A thief, just as she’d suspected. Her chest loosened, if not completely. “Would you at least tell me what it is you served time for?” She could probably go online and find out, or ask one of his friends, but she wanted to hear it from Casey.
“I did six months, when I was twenty-two,” he said, then smirked. “The charge was impersonating an officer.”
She blinked. “What?”
“It’s a long, ridiculous, blurry story. I was pretty new to Vegas. There was a lot of alcohol involved, and a girl, and me agreeing to pass myself off as a cop to try to keep her friend from getting the real police called on him by a pit boss. I was young and dumb—it didn’t occur to me that she was asking me to commit a felony. But anyhow, I did my time, and the friend I got busted trying to help, he wound up being my in with all those card-counting folks, so there was that, at least.”
Her nerves unknotted. “That doesn’t sound so terrible.”
“Nah, it was just stupid as shit. My first attempted con, you might say. I learned a valuable lesson at least—don’t drink on the job.”
“Thanks for telling me that much, anyhow . . . I can’t pretend I’m not curious if whatever we are to each other goes deeper than I was ready to admit. And if you decide you agree, I want to hear about you. And I have skeletons in my own closet that you’d deserve to know about.” She couldn’t say whose past should give the other more cause for misgiving, but she was sick of hiding. She was ready to find out, if being with this man was the prize up for grabs.
“I think I’d better head downstairs,” Casey said lightly.
Her heart went still between her ribs. “Oh. Okay.”
“Miah and his dad are still up,” he added, a little too quickly, and stood from the bed. “No need to start rumors.”
She sat up and watched as he dressed. “No, I guess not.” But she knew Casey well enough to guess that under normal circumstances, the comfort of a warm bed and the haze that followed sex would easily trump any worries about seeming improper. No, he was leaving because he needed distance, space. He was leaving because she’d spooked him. She’d told him she cared; she’d made the beginnings of demands. She’d pried, and she’d scared him away.
“If I wind up on the couch,” he said, buckling his belt, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
She nodded. “Sounds good.”
With a final, tight smile, he added, “Sleep well,” and shut the door behind him.
But she knew already, she’d sleep like absolute shit.
Chapter 20