Page 22 of Catching Mr. Right

Chapter Nine

CASPER

Christ, I should be happy she doesn’t fucking disagree. The minute I disentangled her body from my arms, I strode across the kitchen to get away from her. The more space between us the better. The physical barrier of the island counter helps, too. Anything to aid me in keeping my hands off her.

My muscles are vibrating with my need to catch her up and hold onto her. I’m breathing like I’ve run a marathon and not just helped her rub her sweet, hot snatch against my leg while she made these noises that could send a guy insane. I need to adjust the bulge of my erection, pressed painfully against my thigh, but don’t dare because I don’t want her to see that she still affects me, even with this distance between us.

Mandy fucking Pearce might make me crazy. Which is why I tell her we can’t end up that close again. It’s why I tell her I can’t stand her, when I’m pretty sure it’s a big fucking lie. Surely, she can see straight through my words, but I have to try.

And then she winces, hurt flashing in her eyes before she brings us back to Sam. Sam Sweets. Mister Right. Mister Perfect. Her dream guy. The man I should be grateful for, but instead want to beat the crap out of because I don’t want her to want him.

But what do I have to offer her? Nothing. Less than nothing. A couple weeks over the summer before I’m forced to move on? A few kisses that leave us both shaking and confused?

“Have you got a minute, Casper?” Razer steps into the kitchen, right between us. He glances at me, then at Mandy, then back to me. As though checking for oncoming traffic. Like he can gage by standing between us how intensely attracted to her I am. His gray eyes widen, then narrow. “Everything okay in here?”

“Perfect,” Mandy says. “I love working with Cas. We have so much fun.”

“It’s fine,” I grouch. Razer knows Mandy better than me, so he probably understands how frustrating she can be, and that she’s overplaying it. I hope so.

One of his brows arrows up, his lips twitch. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh,” Mandy enthuses.

“Can I have a minute?” Razer picks up an apple and bites into it. The flesh crunches between his teeth as he strides to the Dutch door and outside.

With a shrug at Mandy, who stares curiously at me, I follow him. Pausing at the door, I turn around to speak to her, “Finish up those sandwiches, okay?”

“Yes,” she says, picking up the butter knife. Staring at it.

I exhale, suddenly deflated. “I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

“I should probably be more careful.” She glances up, and there’s a softness in her gaze that makes me want to tell her she should be very careful around me.

Shutting the door behind me, I chase after Razer who is marching toward the barn. “What do you need to speak to me about?”

“I wondered if you were ever going to return to the land of the living,” he says with a quiet sort of grin. “I guess we’ve got our answer.”

I shake my head, push both hands in my pockets. It feels like a lifetime ago when the two of us met. One of Juliette’s friends had dragged him along to dinner with us. He’d been on leave, I’d had a random night off from kitchen duty. We drank too much. Over the years it had become habit. Until Juliette died, and I stopped returning phone calls and texts and emails. “Mandy is a pain in my ass.”

“Probably. I did hear you screaming at her.” He drags open the door of the barn, and steps inside. “But you like her.”

“She wants someone else.” I shrug, looking around the large, sun-drenched space. “And I can’t. You know why.”

“I know that you believe it,” Razer says. “But that’s something you have to find a way to deal with.”

How many times has someone said those words to me? As though I could ever get over what happened to Juliette.

“I lost my fucking mind over a blunt knife,” I admit. “I screamed at Mandy because I was scared she was going to hurt herself with the one she had in her hand. A blunt fucking knife, Razer. Because any time I see potential for an accident, I see what I did to Juliette.”

My vision goes dark around the edges, the way it sometimes does when I’m struggling to keep a tight grip on my emotions. My chest rattles with each breath.

Razer’s hand clamps down hard on my shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay.” I am always going to see Juliette in my head. I am always going to remember those last moments with her. I am always, always going to overreact. Especially where my dick is involved. And when it comes to Mandy fucking Pearce it’s more than involved. It’s running the damn show.

***

“Do you see him?” Mandy stares up at me with those green eyes that jumpstart my pulse each time I get caught in her gaze. We’re at Mayhem again, where we seem to end up every Friday night. Her fingers are laced behind my neck, her body pressed closely to mine, the wall at her back. Loud music blares from the stage, the usual guy’s voice a deep croon accompanied by guitar, bass, and drums.

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