Ghosts that Haunt—20
The week before Valentine's Day, Casey's casts were removed. He was glad to be able to return to his usual work, though less glad to return to the Buy More.
Milbarge had looked him up and down and sniffed that Casey could have light duties until he was fully recovered. Casey wondered if he could "accidentally" knock a refrigerator over on the man.
Riah's plans for Valentine's Day were interrupted by a misadventure in a Fulcrum cul de sac, and Casey wound up with a broken thumb. Riah had given him a look that straddled concern and amusement and asked if he intended to break many more parts before they got married. He proceeded to demonstrate that broken bones weren't an impediment to anything she might need to worry about.
Beckman had begun sending him sensitive reports on Afghanistan, and Casey knew what that meant. Operation Bartowski was about to end. He didn't like the idea of being the one who put the bullet in the kid, but he supposed better him than someone who might hesitate, whose hand might not be steady, who might only hurt or maim Chuck rather than kill him outright.
Casey still thought the kid deserved better, deserved a chance to prove he was more than just a data-regurgitating cyborg (and if Bartowski ever found out he even knew that word, Casey wouldn't hesitate to threaten a bullet).
No, Casey knew what the reports meant. Beckman was planning an endgame, and Bartowski's attempts to find Orion were going to seal the kid's fate. He knew Chuck thought no one knew what he was doing, and if Casey was aiding and abetting by refusing to disclose, well, as long as it didn't affect Casey's assignment, he could live with it. After all, Casey would get to go back to his unit when it was all over, and that was fine with him—or it would have been under any other circumstances.
He weighed the wisdom of pissing off one woman in the form of his boss against pissing off four women planning a wedding—his.
Truthfully, he'd rather deal with an angry Beckman than face down Emma MacKenzie, Ariel Taylor, and his own mother. Riah would be upset, but she'd let him go unharmed. He couldn't say the same for the other three.
Add to that he was worried about Riah, and Casey began to realize why Beckman had wanted him to get some distance from her the year before.
There was something wrong with her, but he couldn't quite figure out what. A few mornings earlier, she had come downstairs and almost immediately run right back up. When she came down again, she was pale, waxy. She looked ill. When he asked her what was wrong, she would only say she didn't feel well. When she pulled the coffee pot from the maker's burner, she shoved it back and ran for the downstairs bathroom. He could hear her retching over the morning news, but she refused to stay home when he suggested she do so. She looked sick most of the day, and she barely ate lunch, examined every bite as if it were a personal enemy before she put it in her mouth. He noticed she rushed for the bathroom a couple of times before their shifts were over, and he was pretty sure she'd thrown up each of those times.
Home again, while he watched her pull on pyjama bottoms and a tank, he offered, "I'll fix dinner."
She looked ill, paled again. "I don't feel like eating. I think I'm coming down with something."
Casey refrained from telling her she should have stayed home, then. He ate a solitary dinner while she went to bed early. When he joined her, she was asleep. Her body felt no warmer than normal, he noticed, and as he turned the puzzle over and over, tried to fit the pieces together, he reached an uneasy conclusion.
He thought about what he'd told her the day after Christmas.
Faced with the actual possibility, Casey was a bit more ambivalent about the idea of being a father. What he did put her and any child they might have at risk. He fully understood that, but he wondered if his reassurances to Riah had been more about knowing she wanted to be a mother and less about what he wanted. He also knew being a parent would distract him from the job—both jobs. He'd miss them when he had to strap on the gear and go, and he'd worry about them.
For a moment, he thought about the fact that plural was no different than singular in this case. He'd miss Riah, had before, and he'd worry about her. With good reason, he knew, though that didn't make it any easier, and that was without a baby in the mix.
It was supposed to work that way, he knew. He was supposed to miss her—them—but he worried that it would make him be far more cautious than he often needed to be to get the job done.
The truth was, he could rationalize all the reasons why they shouldn't have children: Riah was still emotionally fragile, and a child might exacerbate that; his work might well take him away from her for long periods of time, leaving her to raise their child largely alone; he was firmly middle-aged; his job—both his jobs—had enough risk he could get killed or hurt badly enough she would have to raise a child entirely alone; there were real risks to her in carrying a child, risks he could do nothing about; their child or children could become pawns to be used against him or against Riah's father or, for that matter, Riah herself; a child could expose him to others for what he was.
After all, kids couldn't keep secrets for shit.
Then, he considered the ramifications of having to lie to a child about what he did, about what that might do to their relationship. He considered the cost of frequent absences, considered what would likely happen when his child realized he lied about the most fundamental thing—what Casey did and was. He'd loved his father, but he'd resented the hell out of him, too. He'd known what his old man was, but he'd never understood how James Casey could have left his family as he'd done, checked out of their lives despite remaining physically there. Casey was much more likely to be really gone, and he wasn't sure that was any better, no matter how much he might try to do things differently than his own father had.
As he lay sleepless beside her, he calculated risks, and somewhere near dawn, he realized they didn't matter. If Riah was pregnant, they were having a child. A smile tugged at his mouth, and he felt a foreign emotion spread through him. He had told Chuck when Ilsa turned up that he wasn't father material and that it wasn't what he wanted. He was pretty sure the first part was true. After all, he hadn't had the best role model when he was a child, for the most part, but the last had been a lie.
They would deal with it, one way or another, he thought as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Riah was fine, dismissed her nausea the day before as something she must have eaten. Casey didn't point out they had eaten the same things, but he had experienced no ill effects. He swallowed the urge to ask what he wanted—whether she might be pregnant.
A little over a week later, she was sick again. Casey wondered, looking at her wan face and the edge of fear in her eyes, what she thought. He could usually read her, but her face was closed, miserable, and he considered the possibility she had decided, for whatever reason, that she didn't want to have children with him.
She had to have thought of all the reasons he had why they shouldn't become parents, and she had experience of what it would be like to do this alone. He was more certain than ever Beckman would soon give him orders for Bartowski and reassign him to his old unit before sending him back to Afghanistan. He could hardly refuse to go because Riah was pregnant, especially if Operation Moron was over. He didn't want to retire, wasn't ready to hang it all up, but he might have to.
After Riah gingerly ate a bowl of soup that evening, he pulled her down on the sofa with him, held her while they watched television, and wondered how to broach the possibility with her.
As they lay there, it finally occurred to him that it might not be so much she didn't want to be pregnant as she might be afraid to be pregnant. It had ended badly the last time, and there were no guarantees it wouldn't happen again.
Perhaps he should talk to her aunt Lydia. Since Riah had rarely mentioned her since they'd first started sleeping together, he'd need to find out if her aunt was still at UCLA, but that was a simple search, could be done without the government resources at his disposal. Riah would be pissed that he went around her, angry that he didn't simply ask her, but Casey had a feeling she might not be completely honest with him if he did ask. She had to be suspicious, he thought, but she hadn't even raised the possibility. He wondered if she was trying to ignore it, trying not to get excited in case it went wrong again.
He pulled her closer to him, and she looked over her shoulder, frowned at him. Okay, so this might not be completely normal behavior for him, but this was far from a normal circumstance in his life.
Casey had to admit he'd never planned on marriage, a family—not after Kathleen, at least. As a result, he'd never really thought about what they might mean, what changes would have to happen and how he would have to adapt. Even after he asked Riah to marry him, he really hadn't worked through all the changes having her permanently in his life would mean.
He lay there, his body cradling hers and finally did what he really should have done sooner, considered whether a wife and family were truly what he wanted at this point in his life.
The funny thing was, his answer didn't change. He wanted Riah in his life, and much as the possibility scared the hell out of him, he really did want a child with her. He smiled into her hair, considered the pros and cons of a son or daughter and realized he could be perfectly content with either one.
He also decided to give Riah space, to give her time and let her choose to tell him. He wouldn't push her, no matter how much he wanted to, would let her be comfortable with the idea before she told him. He suspected she'd be spooked, would want to keep it to herself a while, and he considered ways in which he might get her to spill her suspicions, suspicions he knew she had to have.
Riah remained silent, though, moved forward without a word. Casey also realized she tried to hide the nausea and the increased tiredness, and that just pissed him off. He wondered if it was because she was afraid he didn't want this after all, because she didn't want it, or because she was afraid of being pregnant. Regardless of what it was, he had to put a tight leash on his temper to keep himself from demanding she confirm what he firmly believed to be the case: she was pregnant.
Bartowski, predictably, noticed the tension, and if Casey was back to his default position with the kid—angry with a side of sarcasm—then he tried not to feel guilty that he took his frustration with Riah's silence out on Chuck. This was one of those times when he didn't want the kid's overwhelming concern, and somewhere in mid-mental bitch, Casey realized he might be able to use Bartowski to force the issue. After all, Chuck had known before, so it wasn't much of a stretch to think he could figure it out a second time.
Casey gave some thought to how to manipulate Bartowski into forcing Riah's hand.
In the end, it didn't come to that. That evening Casey followed Riah to their bedroom after work. She had been distracted since they left the Buy More—before that, if he were honest. She went to the bathroom while he changed, and after he checked for messages and replied to a couple that needed immediate responses, she was still in there. Despite his certainty that she was pregnant, he had begun to worry that she was sliding back into the depression that had plagued her. He could understand it. After all, she had to give up her job soon, leaving her with only the Buy More or whatever job she could find in its place, and if she really was pregnant, then it had to be bringing back what had happened the last time.
He rapped his knuckles against the closed door, yet she didn't respond. He knew she hadn't come out, and that worried him. He called her name, but she still didn't answer. He reached for the doorknob, and when he entered, she sat on the side of the tub, white-faced, and leaned against the tiled wall. He vividly remembered the panic attack she had had in Chicago, and this looked very much like that. She struggled to breathe and hugged herself tightly. Rushing over to her, he watched her mouth move, but no sound other than her ragged attempt to breathe escaped her. He lifted her to her feet. She stared at him in agony, and for a moment he couldn't breathe, either. "Riah," he said, trying not to panic with her, "Riah, breathe."
She still fought for breath, and he pulled her to him, careful not to squeeze her so that he didn't in any way constrict her ability to breathe. "Breathe," he told her. "Please, just breathe."
After a few moments of coaxing her to relax, to breathe, he wondered what had caused this. "Riah," he asked, leaned down to look into her agonized eyes, "what's wrong?"
Riah shook her head faintly. Her mouth moved. Two words, he thought, frowning. Her mouth moved again, and he thought, no, two syllables. He was about to ask her again when a faint sound accompanied the movement of her mouth.
Casey's chest seized when he realized what she was trying to say. He understood fully her panic. "You're sure?" he asked, an edge to his voice he hadn't intended. It had been one thing to believe it was so, but it was an entirely different one to have her confirm it. She nodded, white-faced. He pulled her back against him. He resisted tightening his hug. He wanted to laugh. He felt faint. He wanted to kiss her breathless—but she already was.
She had been trying to say baby.
His hand slid from her back to her abdomen, and though she felt no different to his touch, he still held his hand there, his palm roughly where he thought their child grew. He had a million questions roiling in his head, and he was barely able to stop them all tumbling out. There was plenty of time once she calmed down, once the panic subsided. That didn't stop him from pressing kisses against her face. He avoided her mouth for the moment, not wanting to impede her fight for air. Finally, he felt her relax into him, and when he was sure her panic had receded, he took her mouth, kissed her gently.
It had nearly killed him to learn she had been pregnant the year before and had miscarried. He had hated that he hadn't known and hadn't been with her. That, he was determined, would not happen again. He wondered, though, why finding out she was pregnant had set her off like this. They had both agreed they wanted children, had both agreed to let what happened happen. He realized his lingering uncertainty vanished now that it was a certainty and not a probability. He pulled her back against him and rubbed her back.
"Christ," he breathed and pressed his lips against her forehead. "You scared the hell out of me." He held her for a while, and when she finally fully relaxed, sagged against him, he asked, "What happened?" She tensed and Casey eased her away from him to once more search her pale face.
Once more her mouth moved, but no sound escaped her. He watched her closely, frowned as she tried once more: "Baby."
He was overjoyed he hadn't misinterpreted her. He cupped her cheek. "Riah?"
She closed her eyes and whispered it again. "Baby." He sealed his mouth to hers before she could say any more. She responded, and he slid his hand over her abdomen again, let it rest there. For a while, he just held her, and she relaxed more. "You're sure?" he asked again. She nodded. He lifted her face. "Absolutely sure?" She nodded once more, and he kissed her again.
Casey wanted to ask why that would induce a panic attack, but he bit back the words. Her first pregnancy had ended badly, and he figured she was simply afraid history would repeat itself.
He fished his phone out of his pocket. He couldn't wait to tell his mother, and he wondered if he could convince Riah to let him be the one who told Ariel. He thought he might enjoy testing whether or not she would put Riah's happiness first. If she didn't, he knew he would enjoy teaching her to have more respect for her daughter and her choices. He definitely intended to be the one who told V. H. Riah, though, snatched the phone from him and quickly turned it off—kept it, too, rather than return it to him.
Before he could complain, she said, "I don't want anyone to know, not yet."
He blinked, taken aback. Why on earth would she not want to tell their families at the very least? It wasn't like it was something they would be able to hide. As the child grew, so would Riah.
"I don't want to tell anyone until we know it won't happen again," she said, and he heard a hint of a wheeze in her breathless voice. "I can't bear it if it happens again," she whispered brokenly and clung more tightly to him.
Casey gathered her closer. He could understand that. He wasn't sure he could, either, but that didn't mean he didn't want to tell nearly everyone they knew they were going to have a baby. "Riah?"
"I just panicked, John," she told him. She breathed deeply a moment, and he focused, watched to see if she would panic once more. "I want this. I really do. I just can't—I just don't want—" He listened as patiently as he could manage as she breathed in once more, tried again. "I want to keep it between us for now. When we're sure I won't . . . lose . . . won't mis- . . . ." She floundered to a stop.
Casey wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up. She wound her arms around his neck, and he promised, "Whatever you want." He sealed that promise with a kiss.
"You're okay with this?" she asked when their mouths parted.
Casey was more than okay with it. He wondered how best to convince her, especially since her words and her tone indicated she wasn't sure despite the things they had said to one another when he asked her to marry him. He wondered that she could doubt, conveniently ignored his own doubts, especially since he thought he'd more than made up for having convinced her he didn't want to be a father before he admitted he fell in love with her. He hadn't wanted to impregnate her when he wasn't sure what it was he felt for her, but now the idea that he could have a family sent intoxicating emotion coursing through him. "Yes. Yes," he told her fervently and kissed her. Then he deliberately echoed her words. "I want this."
It was funny, he thought, how he'd never imagined the news that he would be a father would make him want to reinforce how he felt about her, but somehow all he could think about was showing her how much he wanted her, how much he loved her. Casey had never been a man of words, so he carried her to bed, stripped her and worshipped her body with his. Riah apparently felt the same way since she tore at his clothes and did her best to return the reverence with her mouth, hands and body. Despite the urgency to reach skin, once they did, they took their time, and Casey forgot about everything but her, this, the feel and taste of her.
When they were both satisfied, he grinned down at her, and she looked almost drunkenly happy as she smiled widely up at him. Riah reached up and kissed him. "You know," she said, and her voice was low, smoky. It did things to him, and he put his mouth under her jaw, kissed a line along her throat. "This is what got us in this condition in the first place."
He made a satisfied rumble against her throat, and then he lifted his head and raised his brows as her words sank in. "Us?"
She lifted a brow of her own, and he liked the self-satisfied little smile that curved her mouth. It was a decided improvement over the terrified expression she had worn earlier when she told him. "You're in this as much as I am, Major, and since I get the harder part of the job, you're going to have to spend many, many months appeasing me."
That was an idea Casey rather liked, he realized. He did, however, wonder how long he could appease her. Her words implied for a long time, but he decided it was time to find out what was going to happen to her and to her body over the next several months. He didn't want to do anything that might cause her to lose the baby, and he didn't know if sex would be good for her given she had had one miscarriage. He had his own moment of panic as he wondered if what they had just done might not cause problems.
She didn't seem anything but sated, pleased, so he dropped a kiss on her breast, ran his tongue around her nipple, and smiled when she arched into him with a soft moan. "I take it that appeases you?" he said against her skin and then drew her nipple in his mouth. He suckled on it, wondered a moment if she would choose to breastfeed their child rather than use bottles. He decided he should enjoy the privilege of having her breasts to himself while he could.
Her fingers threaded through his hair as he suckled her. "It's a good start."
When he released her breast, he reached a hand up and softly stroked a piece of hair out of her face. "Think we should move the wedding forward?" He would move heaven and earth to do it for her, though as they talked through it, they both realized that unless they wanted to rush things, sacrifice the possibility their family and friends could make an earlier date, they would be wiser to stay with the one they had already chosen and for which she had already sent out invitations. It didn't make Casey all that happy, especially when he realized Riah was mortified by the fact she would be several months pregnant when she walked down the aisle, but Casey realized that didn't bother him at all. It wasn't like their family and friends didn't know they slept together, and it wasn't like their families and a handful of other people didn't know she had been pregnant the year before.
As a result, when she asked if it would embarrass him, he honestly told her that it didn't matter to him. She rewarded him by stroking a hand up over his chest and shoulder to cup his cheek. She ran her thumb over his lower lip, and Casey recognized the signal that meant, usually, that she wanted him. Despite his earlier concerns, he was happy to oblige her. He did so slowly, gently, and when they finished, he kissed her before sliding slowly down her body and opening his mouth against her still flat stomach. He kissed her belly and then rubbed his cheek against her abdomen.
"I'll appease you again later," he told her, "but for now, I think we should celebrate."
It took some time to persuade her to get dressed and go out to dinner. She chose the little Italian place they both liked. By the time she ordered dessert, he decided he didn't mind keeping this to themselves.
Casey wasn't sure what woke him, but he rolled his face against flesh and remembered where he was and why. They had celebrated again when they got home. He lifted off Riah, who was still asleep. She wore a faint smile and absolutely nothing else. It suited her, he thought. Moving slowly, he rose from the bed and drew the covers over her. She stirred, rolled to her side and he waited, held his breath as she slid further into sleep once more.
He had a few things he needed to do because Riah was pregnant. He pulled on a pair of pants and headed out the door. He couldn't stop the grin. Pregnant. Riah was pregnant. Again. The grin vanished as he realized he couldn't tell anyone, and he desperately wanted to tell a few people. Bartowski and Walker were two he'd like to tell, if for no other reason than they could help watch out for Riah when the job took him away from her. Ellie was another, and not just because she was a doctor. Bartowski's sister was Riah's friend, and she, too, would make sure nothing happened to Riah and their child if she could prevent it.
There were many things to consider, many issues he needed to look into. If anything happened to him, he wanted to know that Riah and the baby would be taken care of. He'd added her name to the things he had, but that wasn't exactly the kind of protection he had in mind.
It took a few hours to answer several questions he had, and when he had the answers, he began setting his plan in motion.
The following morning, Riah told him over breakfast she'd call her aunt and make an appointment. He told her he wanted to be there, and she gave him a thoughtful look. "You know you'll be drowning in estrogen, right?"
He stifled the snort. "I think I can take it."
She made the call, set the appointment for early the following week and early enough in the morning that they could go before they went to the Buy More for work.
Casey quietly continued setting his own plans in place. He slipped away from the Buy More sales floor to make a few phone calls of his own. Riah might be pissed off at what he was doing, but he had a feeling she'd get over it.
She hadn't been kidding about drowning in estrogen, he realized as he sat beside her, the only man in a room full of women. At least the room wasn't pink, and the furniture was comfortable but not girly. The magazine choices included Guns & Ammo, which indicated testosterone occasionally made an appearance in the waiting room. Despite the fact Casey had already read the issues on the table, he picked one up so Riah might relax after they had finished filling in paperwork.
Frankly, Casey thought the U.S. government had been less nosy in his security clearance investigation, but he'd written in what he could answer truthfully.
When they were in an examination room and her aunt and a battle axe of a nurse entered, Casey studied Lydia Pentangeli. He noticed she measured him as well before she turned to her niece and got down to business. Riah blushed her way through the questions her aunt asked, and Casey watched, intrigued that she seemed embarrassed to have to discuss her condition. He wondered if it was because Lydia was her aunt, because he was there, or because she was embarrassed to be pregnant.
Her aunt, though, remained professional and did what she could to put Riah at ease. When Lydia left to check on the test results she had run, Riah had given him an uncomfortable smile.
"You could have found another doctor," he told her.
"Lydia's the best, and she won't tell anyone if I don't want her to."
Why that reminded him of what she had said about psychiatrists betraying her because of who her mother was, he wasn't sure. He wondered, though, whether Lydia might tell Ariel despite what Riah believed, and he wondered what Riah's mother would have to say when she found out. Casey suspected there would be a full-court press to move the wedding up, and he decided he and Riah needed to talk strategy.
When Lydia breezed in, she stared at a chart as she closed the door behind her. "Definitely pregnant," she said and smiled at her niece. "I told you Casey would appreciate the book."
Casey snorted, remembered he'd told Riah he owed her aunt. "Very educational," he said, and Riah's blush deepened.
Lydia snorted in return. "Something tells me your education was not lacking, Casey." She looked at her niece then. "You should deliver some time around November 4," she told her.
"The eleventh," Riah corrected with a certainty that had Casey wondering why she would correct a woman whose business it was to know.
"It could be two weeks either way, Mariah," Lydia cautioned. "We'll have a better idea when we do the first ultrasound." She went on to talk about warning signs, vitamins, iron supplements, diet, and exercise. She talked about Riah's depression, asked if she was still taking anti-depressants or other medication. Riah shook her head. Casey listened as Lydia warned her they might need to put her back on it, that pregnancy could trigger her depression, and since she had miscarried once before, she was worried about Riah's well-being, physical as well as mental.
Lydia looked at him when she told them it was probable the pregnancy would be normal but there were no guarantees. Casey listened closely, and then he asked questions that Lydia took seriously even though he could read amusement in her eyes.
He was relieved to learn they could continue having sex, though Casey would make the sacrifice if he had to. Riah's aunt explained that could change depending on how the pregnancy progressed but, she assured him, there were options. Casey was pretty sure he was the one blushing when she ran through that particular list. She told Riah they would monitor her carefully, that she wanted to see her more often than she had the last time, and she warned her that there was a possibility she might put Riah on bedrest depending on what she saw as the baby developed.
When Riah told her she didn't want anyone to know, Lydia studied her. "Your choice, Mariah, but you should probably let V. H. know. You shouldn't take some of the risks your job often requires."
Riah paled, told her aunt that she would soon resign from ISI.
Lydia, Casey noted, looked relieved. "That's just as well, Mariah." He was a little pissed off by that remark, but he bit back a response when she told her niece, "That's not a comment about your capability to do the work, Mariah, but one directed at your health."
Reassured that Riah was in no undue risk, Casey returned to the plans he had put in place. He asked Beckman for a couple of personal days. When pushed for why, he told her he'd like to take Riah somewhere quiet for a weekend. Since Bartowski was the one in a cast this time after the idiocy with Cole Barker, Casey figured it was a good time for a couple of days away.
To his surprise, Beckman let him have the time off with no complaints. He had several serious suspicions about why, but he didn't ask, chose instead to accept her agreement on face value. Casey arranged their days off with Big Mike, unwilling to involve Milbarge. As a result, Riah sat beside Casey as he drove up the coast on Friday morning. They had thirty-six hours where they didn't need to be with the Intersect, and he told her he wanted to go somewhere, just the two of them, where the phone wouldn't ring unless all hell had broken loose.
The deal he'd made with Beckman meant he only had the two days and had to return to Echo Park on a moment's notice if necessary. Beckman further told him she was evaluating Operation Bartowski and would consider either shutting it down or making changes in the operating procedures. She asked if he was interested in returning to his old unit, depending on proposed changes. He had agreed he'd be happy to be useful again, but he didn't admit that he would agree to practically any terms she offered if for no other reason than he rarely got time where he wasn't accessible to Bartowski or Walker. Casey looked forward to having Riah all to himself. He had to admit he was also glad to get away from Ellie and her fiance and the madness of their looming wedding.
Thankfully, Riah seemed particularly level-headed where their own plans were concerned, and he felt a moment's guilt for largely leaving her to negotiate and restrain her mother's excesses. They had agreed on small and quiet, but Ariel kept managing to try and expand those parameters.
When they finally left Los Angeles, he held Riah's left hand on his thigh as he drove. His thumb toyed with her engagement ring, and occasionally, he lifted her hand and kissed it. He had refused to tell Riah where they were going, but she didn't push very hard to get him to tell her. He'd told her it was a surprise, that they'd be gone two days and one night when she asked. Given how much she hated surprises, he was astonished she didn't insist on knowing what he had in mind. That, strangely, bothered him, though he wasn't sure why.
They stopped on the coast for lunch. He took her to a restaurant an old friend who lived in the area had recommended, and he considered how to broach what he intended with Riah. When they finished lunch and Casey had settled the bill, he took her hand and walked her to a green belt near the restaurant and one of the locations he'd plotted out. He sat her on a bench beneath a large, leafy tree, sat down next to her, and turned to face her. She didn't seem to mind, but he could read the uncertainty on her face. He could tell she was trying to figure out why he would do something so uncharacteristic for him.
Casey trailed the fingers of his right hand along her cheek, bent toward her and asked, "How about getting married today?"