“Yes,” Gizzy said.
Casey yelled, “Now!” and the three men began pulling, two on the rope, with Tate holding Casey’s legs and drawing her in. It hurt. The rough surfaces of the tiles and the old window took off a layer of skin on Casey’s arms. She couldn’t imagine what was being done to Gizzy’s bare legs.
When Casey was nearly inside, Tate pulled her the rest of the way through the window. She never let go of her sister’s arms, didn’t break eye contact with her.
Jack leaped forward to grab Gizzy’s arms.
The door burst open and the boy’s mother ran in, her arms outstretched, her voice hysterically calling her son’s name.
Only when Gizzy was standing in the room did she finally loosen her grip on the little boy. He fell into his mother’s arms.
Behind them, Tate pulled Casey to him. Her heart was pounding and she was shaking. Tate’s hold on her was
comforting—with no electricity.
He bent his head so his cheek was on her hair. “You didn’t inherit your dad’s love of adventure?”
“None of it. I’m a total coward.” She knew she should break away from him, and she could hear Jack and Gizzy and the deputy talking. They said they were taking Gizzy to get medical treatment. Casey knew she should go too, but she didn’t move out of Tate’s arms. They seemed to fit together perfectly, and it had been a long time since a man had held her. Tate’s laughter at the story of her breakup had made her remember things that she’d blocked out. Maybe it was what she’d just been through or Tate’s humor, or maybe it was being held after so long without, but she thought about what had happened with her and Ben. Months before he moved out, he’d made some very unpleasant gibes about how Casey was the only one who could run the restaurant. She knew he’d been passed over for promotion, and she’d done her best to make it up to him. There had been fabulous dinners followed by great sex, followed by days of ego-boosting, but nothing she did stopped his endless little snipes.
Before she knew it, tears came to her eyes, and she tightened her arms around Tate. He buried his hand in her hair and held her, saying nothing, just standing there with his arms around her.
The tears lasted only seconds, then she became aware of where she was. It was silent in the room. Had the others left or were they watching?
When Casey gazed up at him, Tate kissed her forehead—and electricity shot through her.
She pushed away from him and glared. “You had to ruin it, didn’t you?”
He didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “I did. My arms around a beautiful woman who I like very much turns me on. Sorry. My weakness. Are you okay?”
She took a breath. “Yes.” Except for deep embarrassment, she thought. “We better go. The owner will sell everything and we’ll have a bare stage for the play.”
“No. Jack will take care of him. That fierce act he shows in his movies is real. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” As he opened the door for her, she looked at him. “I’m sorry about falling apart.”
His eyes were serious. “You were very courageous. If I’d let you go, you would have slid down the roof and hit the ground headfirst. It takes a lot of trust, as well as faith, to do what you did.” He smiled. “And a lot of muscle on my part. Where did you get quads like that?”
Casey went into the hall. “You make me sound like an Olympic lifter. I just haul big, heavy pots off the stove, and I run around the kitchen for sixteen hours at a time.”
“The trainer gets here tomorrow. Maybe you can tell him your technique. I want muscles like you have.”
“Why, you—” She started to smack his shoulder but drew back.
“Wise,” he said. “That electricity you put out hurts weak little me.”
“That I put out? It’s you who thinks he’s Benjamin Franklin.”
“Is that the Ben who was so jealous of you that he left in a very cowardly way?”
Casey stopped at the head of the stairs. For months she’d been living with guilt, thinking that she’d been terrible to a really nice man, but Tate was making her see things differently. She smiled at him. “Thanks,” she said softly. “Thank you for not dropping me off the roof and for making me feel better about Ben. It was very kind of you, especially after I…I…”
“Bawled me out after I saved your house from total destruction by a rampaging bird the size of a bear cub?”
She laughed. “More or less.” When she went down the stairs, Tate was close behind her.
Laughter, she thought. It’s what she most needed after the harrowing experience on the roof.
At the foot of the stairs, she started toward the kitchen, but Tate stopped in front of her. He nodded toward her bare forearms. They were bleeding. Tate had so distracted her that she’d forgotten about them, but the sight of the blood brought it all back and she felt her knees giving way.