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“Hey!” Dev protested. “I was working on that.”
“It’ll still be there when you turn the monitor on again. Look.” He took a huge breath and blew it out. “That kiss was more than I’ve ever done with Bradley. For that matter, it was more than I’ve ever wanted to do with Bradley. This alleged engagement is all in his head. Well, his head and my uncle’s.”
“Did you ever tell them that?”
Casey rolled his eyes. “So many times. But telling somebody something doesn’t do much good if they don’t listen. And Uncle Walt and Bradley have this kind of… selective audio filter. If what you say doesn’t align with their plans, then they just don’t hear it.”
“Mmmphmmm.”
“Eloquent, Dev. Real eloquent. Although I suppose I should take it as a good sign that you haven’t run away again like the last the last two days.” He scooted his chair closer. “Granted, I am blocking you in your desk, but you’re big enough that you could move me aside with no trouble.”
“I would never touch you without your permission, Casey, and never in anger. If you believe nothing else about me, believe that.”
“Okay, then, as long as we’re talking about beliefs, let me be clear.” He leaned forward, gaze fierce and intense. “I am not now nor have I ever been engaged to Bradley. I am not dating Bradley. I have never dated Bradley and I never would, because he’s a total dickhead. Believe that.”
“No argument there,” Dev muttered.
“Furthermore, he is the king of entitlement, the emperor of condescension, and the grand freaking poobah of self-importance.” Casey stuck his nose in the air. “And frankly, I’m a little insulted that you think I’d fall for any of that.”
Dev’s lips twitched. “You have to admit, I had reasons.”
“Only Bradley’s words.” He jabbed a finger at Dev’s chest. “Need I remind you that you bolted before you bothered to hear mine? Because if you’d stayed, you’d have heard me totally reading him the riot act.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “Although, even if Bradley heard what I said, there’s no telling whether he paid attention. Selective audio filter, remember?”
The back of Dev’s neck burned like it always did when he was ashamed of himself. “That’s fair. I’m sorry I ghosted you. I’ve been told I have… trust issues. And perhaps an occasional problem with self-worth.”
“Apology accepted.” Casey smiled tentatively. “So we’re good now?”
“We’re good.”
Casey waggled his eyebrows. “Seal it with a kiss?”
Fuck, but I want to. However… “I don’t think that would be such a great idea.”
Casey’s face fell. “So you don’t want me.”
“Whether I want you or not is not the issue.” Dev punched the monitor’s on switch, sending it flickering to life. “I’ve got duties. Responsibilities.” Burdens. “Home is not just my home, it’s my family’s legacy. I can’t fail the town just because I’m a lousy bookkeeper and suck at managing money.” And besides, you’ll be leaving in two months.
Casey’s smile grew and gained an edge that made him look less like a rescue kitten and more like Randolph Scott on the trail of a particularly tasty mouse.
“You, Dev Harrison, are in luck. I may be culinarily clueless, but I’ve got seven-eighths of an MBA and I aced all my accounting and financial management classes. I don’t have an ounce of my father’s cooking talent, but I totally inherited my uncle’s financial savvy. I bet I can get your books under control in no time.”
The flutter in Dev’s middle—was that hope or lust? Probably a little of both, because he’d totally get on his knees for a guy who knew how to vanquish this fucking budget—especially if that guy was Casey. “You’d do that?”
“In a heartbeat.” His expression turned serious. “This isn’t a quid pro quo, by the way. I’ll take it on even if you don’t want to kiss me again. I’ll do it because it’s something I’m good at and because you need the help. If you don’t trust me with your financial data—”
“No! It’s not that. I do trust you. It’s just…” He scrubbed his hands across his close-cropped hair. “I ought to be able to handle this myself.”
Casey regarded him for a moment, deadpan. Then he asked, “Why?”
“Because all the Harrisons before me have managed with no trouble.”
“How do you know?”
Dev spread his arms, as though encompassing Harrison House and everything beyond. “Because Home is still here, and it’s still the haven Persistence dreamed it would be.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that your forebears found it easy or did it all alone. Come on, Dev. Let me help.”
“I—” The landline on the desk jangled, which meant it was town business. Dev grimaced. “I’ve got to get that.”
