Page 11 of Quicksandy


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“Sure. Just don’t leave your dirty undies on my bedroom floor.” She rubbed her head against his shoulder in a clear invitation.

“Well, at least I’ll know where to drop off your duffel.” Tess stood and began clearing the table. “Chocolate cake? Val made it.”

“Don’t tempt me. I’m stuffed. I’ll need to figure out how to keep in shape while I’m mending.”

“Jack’s old exercise equipment is still here. Shane uses it every day. I’m sure he won’t mind sharing.” Tess rinsed the dishes and added them to the load in the dishwasher. “Early bedtime for me. I’ll see you two in the morning.”

Picking up Casey’s bag where she’d left it on the couch, she carried it down the hall, opened the door to Val’s room, and tossed it on the bed. Having Casey here would be good for Val. Maybe with time together, away from the arena, they’d be able to make some solid plans.

Hopefully, those plans would include a wedding. But if her sister and Casey married, she couldn’t expect them to make their home here with her. They would go where Casey’s work took him—whatever that work might be. And if Brock managed to lure Shane and Lexie to a life of abundance on his ranch, what then?

Tess knew the answer to that question. Her entire family would be gone. Except for the hired help, she would be here alone—the last of the Champions on the Alamo Canyon Ranch.

* * *

As the full moon climbed the late-night sky, Val lay curled against Casey’s naked body, warm and utterly content. It seemed that there was always an abundance of things to argue about. But when they made love, they became one. Nothing mattered but this sweet, burning passion that never failed them. She was his woman, heart and soul. He was her man.

He chuckled, his lips brushing her tangled hair. “You’re quite the rider, lady,” he whispered.

“I’ve got quite the bull here,” Val teased. “I hope you like it this way. Until your ankle’s healed, this is how it’ll have to be.”

“No complaints. None at all.”

He stretched onto his side and turned her to spoon against him. His hand splayed over her belly, spanning the ugly scars from the C-section she’d had at eighteen. Val couldn’t look at those scars without remembering the baby boy she’d given up for adoption nine years ago. She’d been alone in Hollywood then, cast out by her father, with no resources to care for her child.

Casey’s child.

Val nestled into his warmth and closed her eyes. Casey hadn’t known about the baby until she’d told him a few months ago. Hurt and angry, he’d said some ugly things before finally coming to understand how desperate she’d been.

After some deep pain, they’d made peace and moved on. But the loss would always be there, like a dark layer between them—especially since the complications Val had suffered giving birth meant that she could have no more children.

Maybe that was why she could never bring herself to set a wedding date. What if, deep down, Casey still resented what she’d done? What if it turned out that he wanted a family more than he wanted her?

Val willed herself to take deep, slow breaths, a technique she’d learned from the yoga sessions in rehab. The breathing helped. She could feel her anxiety easing, feel herself sinking into sleep.

“Val?” The tension in Casey’s voice yanked her back from the edge of slumber. Even before he spoke again, she sensed that the unspoken words would change their lives.

“What is it?” she murmured. “Is something wrong?”

He hesitated. “No, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“This sounds serious.” She sat up, her pulse racing as she turned to face him. What was it? Had he slept with another woman? Was he suffering from some fatal disease?

“Tell me,” she said.

“I know I should have asked you first. But I was afraid you’d say no.” He took a deep breath. “Val, I’ve hired a private investigator to find our son.”

Val recoiled as if she’d been rammed with a two-by-four. She felt dizzy—almost ill. Struggling, she found her voice.

“You were right about two things, Casey. You should have asked me, and I would have said no. There’s a reason for closed adoptions like this one was. If I’d known where my baby had gone, I wouldn’t have been able to stay away. It would have been torture—for me and for the parents who adopted him. I had to let him go. It broke my heart, but I knew it was the best thing I could do for him.”

“But you knew him, at least,” Casey said. “You carried him, you gave birth to him, held him in your arms, and decided his future. He’s my son, too. But I never had that chance.”

Oh, Casey, please don’t do this—to me, to yourself, and to our son!

Val clutched the sheet in front of her, feeling more vulnerable than she had ever felt with him. “What do you plan to do if you find him? Knock on the door, introduce yourself, and demand to be part of his life?”

Casey exhaled, shaking his head. “Give me some credit, Val. I’d never do anything like that. I only want to know what he looks like, where he lives, and what sort of life he has—maybe even see him from a distance.”

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