Ghosts that Haunt—15
Casey had a moment of déjà vu when he deplaned. An agent met him, waited while he collected his bags, and drove him to NSA headquarters where Beckman waited for him. He was ushered into a briefing where he was filled in on Gaza.
In his head, Casey could hear Riah's sleepy, Don't get killed, and he was very aware of all the ways this could result in exactly what she'd told him not to do. He clamped his jaw shut and mentally lectured himself for going soft.
He was given photographs to study, street maps to familiarize himself with the location, and dossiers on the people he would have to find, meet, or potentially take out. He was given codes and exit contacts. In short, it was a normal briefing, but it ended very differently than any he had ever experienced.
Beckman finally called a halt, and when Casey returned after dropping the material he'd been given with his bags, the group present was considerably smaller and had changed most of the participants. "Major Casey has made a personal request to marry a young agent who has been working with him," she began.
Casey chafed a bit at the adjective young, but he held his tongue.
One of the DNI guys eyed him and asked who the bride was. Beckman told them. He could read their faces, and it didn't look good.
"Isn't she V. H. Adderly's daughter?" one of them finally asked. During the lengthy pause that followed his question, Casey wondered how many of those seated at the table knew the answer to that before the objections started flying, which answered the question for him.
Casey sat quietly, except when he was asked direct questions. The DNI weasel kept insinuating that there must be something else going on, that because it was known he was friendly with Riah's father, that because of how both V. H. and his daughter earned their livings this marriage was a risk to national security. After considerably more than an hour, the one member of the panel before him who had not yet spoken eyed Casey and asked, "Major Casey, you keep insisting that marriage to Miss Adderly will not jeopardize any operation to which you may be assigned. Would you explain why you are so confident this is so?"
Sitting back, Casey thought this was probably the first intelligent question he had been asked. As he was about to answer, General Beckman said, "Miss Adderly has—"
The man who had asked the question turned to Beckman and cut her off: "Major Casey may answer, Diane." It was obviously a warning despite the man's lazy, indifferent tone. Casey thought a second. If Beckman believed she should answer for him, she probably thought his response would compromise this somehow. Then, given her ongoing objections of the past year, he wondered why she didn't just let him do exactly that.
"Mariah has worked with me on my current assignment. A number of times her assistance has been invaluable, and she has never betrayed any bit of vital intelligence to her father. She has a record of not talking, not even when tortured, and I believe that she will continue to guard anything she might learn." He hoped he sold that. He hoped he wasn't closely questioned about that statement, either. It was correct as far as it went, but there was one lie by omission. He knew she had traded one piece of information off—the mess with Carina. He could live with that. Riah had turned out to be absolutely right, and what she had done had kept them from exposing Bartowski and from looking like morons.
The gentleman who had asked the question continued to shrewdly study Casey, but Casey kept his face impassive. "I understand, Major, that you have twice compromised yourself over Miss Adderly."
The others began to murmur amongst themselves. Casey continued to stare at the man, and he belatedly wondered who he was. Beckman had not introduced the other participants; though admittedly he knew all of them except this man. "Is that a question?" Casey asked.
The man gave a brief, huffing laugh. "No, but this is: your record with the NSA was fairly pristine until Miss Adderly moved in with you. Since then, you've been formally reprimanded for recklessly endangering Miss Adderly, and you nearly faced AWOL charges because of her. How do we know that if the two of you marry, you will continue to do your duty rather than allow your wife and her needs to come first?"
In his head, he could hear Paul Patterson. It struck him as a good answer. "I love my country, and it is my honor to serve it. I do my job. I do my job well. I love Mariah, too. Because she's in the business, she understands that there are times when I can't put her before my duty to my country." The other man was about to say something, but Casey went ahead and said what he figured would probably be the deal-breaker: "But there will be times when she ought to come first. If it does not jeopardize national security, I will put her first when she needs me."
Beckman didn't look happy at all. Casey figured she ought to know upfront that he didn't intend to live the job as he had done. Ironically, the man who had asked did look happy with his answer. It made no sense to him. He would have thought the last thing representatives of his government wanted to hear was that there would be times when the job they paid him to do would not be his first priority. It did seem, though, given the man's two questions, that he was better informed than the others at the table with the exception of General Beckman. Casey had a feeling he was the one who would make the final decision.
The man nodded and said, "If you will excuse us, Major, there are others with whom we need to speak. Please don't go far."
Casey knew a dismissal when he heard one. He stood and nodded to the panel before he left the conference room. To his surprise, the first person he saw outside the room was Riah. He didn't even think about it, just crossed to her and crushed her into his arms and blindly sought her mouth. She wound her arms around him and returned his kiss. He supposed, as he put her back on her feet, that he shouldn't have been surprised she had been sent for. It did, however, occur to him that they could have travelled together.
Before he could ask her, V. H. stepped forward and said, "Mariah, they're waiting for you." Casey gave her an encouraging smile and watched them walk toward the room he had recently left.
He told the man at the desk nearby he was going to his office. It still amused him that he had an office. It wasn't like he spent much time there, and it wasn't like he really needed one. He was rarely at headquarters for any amount of time, but he had a small office nonetheless. He'd get a start on the Gaza assignment, read through the material with which he needed to familiarize himself.
Once there, though, Casey couldn't focus; his attention kept stealing away to what was probably happening in that conference room. He ought to be prepping for Gaza, but he couldn't keep his head in the game. His fate, his and Riah's was being decided elsewhere, and he suspected he would be unable to focus until he knew what their answer was.
Time crawled. He wasn't the most patient of men to begin with, especially when he wasn't on the job, but he would swear someone had broken the office clock given how slowly it marked the passage of time.
He wondered what they were asking her. He wondered if he would have to kill the DNI weasel, and he wondered who the man who had asked him about Riah was. He sat down at his computer, switched it on, logged on, and pulled up the security feed on the building's front door, and when he caught the man's face, he began running it through facial recognition software. Depending on who the man was, Casey had probably just tripped several security alerts, but he didn't much care.
As time continued to drag, he began to prowl the small office. He wondered if Riah had been separated from her father to face questions or if the other man had been allowed to stay with her. He wondered if V. H. was voicing any of the objections Casey had heard from him, wondered if the man would try to undermine his daughter's happiness. He sincerely hoped Ariel had been right when she claimed he would want Riah to be happy.
Then he wondered what, if any, objections the Canadian government might raise and whether or not he and Riah would have to repeat this in Ottawa.
Casey wasn't surprised he didn't return an ID on the man in the conference room. He was surprised to realize it had taken well over two hours to say there was no result. He got antsy, then. The panel in the conference room had talked to him for slightly less than two hours; Riah had been in there for more than three at this point.
After another half hour, his phone rang. It was Beckman asking him to return to the conference room. He entered, and his eyes immediately found Riah's pale face. Just to annoy her father, he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were cold, and his heart sank. He had a feeling they were about to be told their relationship was at an end.
Riah's hand trembled in his as he pulled hers onto his thigh when he was seated beside her. She looked at him, but her smile was a little off, her eyes miserable. Beckman spoke, and it only took a few seconds for Casey to feel anger rise. She had told him Riah would have to leave ISI, but it still pissed him off.
As they went through the list, it became increasingly apparent that in order to get married, Riah had to make all the sacrifices. She had to leave ISI, she could not work in intelligence for another agency for at least five years, and there was a moment where he thought they were going to be allowed to marry but not live together until Beckman moved on to say that as long as they could maintain a firewall, they could remain under the same roof in Los Angeles. He noticed Riah would stay in place with the Intersect under that condition, and, apparently, he, Casey, was her only compensation. While he was glad Riah could step in if they needed her, he was pissed off that she got nothing out of it. He opened his mouth to protest, but both V. H. and Beckman gave him looks that told him to simply shut up. He did. Beckman finished with, "Congratulations, Major, Miss Adderly."
The members of the panel shook their hands and filed from the room. When only he, Riah, and V. H. remained, her father looked at Casey and said, "She's paying a high price for you. I hope you're worth it."
"I intend to be," Casey said quietly, and the two men shook hands. That V. H. had echoed his own thoughts didn't surprise him. The man couldn't be happy, regardless of his ambivalent feelings about his daughter's vocation, to have to lose his part of the Intersect project. Casey wondered if another ISI operative would participate or if Riah would be allowed to pass pertinent information on. He had a feeling she wouldn't, that Beckman would use anything she did not personally give Adderly as evidence that Riah wasn't living up to her side of the agreement, and Casey didn't like to think about what that would mean.
He watched her father fold her into a tight hug. "I love you, sweetheart," he said. "I hope you know what you're doing."
"I do," Riah said as he released her.
V. H. gave his daughter that grin Casey hadn't seen in a while. "I see you've learned the important words."
Then it was just the two of them. He was about to speak, but Riah said, "Just shut up and kiss me properly." Casey was more than willing to comply. She met him more than halfway, and he wondered if she had made arrangements to go back to Los Angeles that night or if she could stay. He had work to do, and he was leaving late the next evening. Somewhere in there, he was supposed to go see his mother again.
He asked her when they broke the kiss. She told him she had to book a flight since her father had brought her to D.C. She smiled ruefully. "Apparently, he's just decided to abandon me here."
Casey doubted that. "Call him and ask."
She shook her head. "He'll call me." She breathed in deeply and stared up at him. "Are you sure you don't want to change your mind, John?"
He leaned in for another kiss. He considered making a joke, but it wouldn't be funny in the circumstances, and the last thing he needed was to piss her off or give her a reason to suddenly rethink all she had just agreed to give up. As a result, he decided to say what he honestly thought. "If anyone should be having second thoughts, it's you," he said gruffly, and then he hoped her answer hadn't changed.
Riah smiled. "I'll miss it, I won't lie, but it isn't like I need the money or the risk." She reached up and kissed him deeply, slowly. "I think you're worth the trade-off, John."
"Riah, I'm not sure—"
"I am," she whispered and kissed him again.
They heard the clack of heels on the floor, and General Beckman's voice said gruffly, "This is not a hotel, Major. Take your fiancée somewhere else to celebrate." Riah had gone crimson, and Casey nearly smiled. "We're putting a car at your disposal. Return here tomorrow by five-thirty, Major." She gave Mariah a look. "At your father's request, we've booked a flight back to Los Angeles for you, Miss Adderly. Your flight information is downstairs. When you hand over your visitor's pass, it will be given to you."
Casey took her by his office so he could collect the information he needed to review before the mission, and Riah looked around with interest. She stayed by the door while he pushed files into his briefcase. He knew what she was seeing—a small room with nothing that marked it as a personal space. There had been very little in their apartment that marked the space as his when she had come to him, though that was certainly not the case now, he reflected. He wondered what she would make of his house.
He looked across at her. He needed to repack. What he had in his bags was not what he'd need in Gaza, so he told her, "I need to go by my house, and then I promised my mother I'd go to her place for a while."
Riah looked a little disappointed. "I'm sure I can find a hotel somewhere."
Casey snorted. "That wasn't an excuse, Riah. That was the itinerary. Since you're here, you're going with me."
As they drove up to his house, Riah stared out the windshield. It wasn't anything like the homes she had grown up in, he knew, but she seemed to like what she saw. He liked it. It was a two-story house in a quiet neighborhood. He suddenly wondered if she was about to start redecorating the way she had in Los Angeles. They walked around to the front porch, and Riah stared avidly at the beds in front of the porch. "Azaleas?" she asked, eyeing the bare bushes.
He shrugged. He had no idea what they were. "Someone takes care of the yard, Riah. I'm rarely here, so I don't know what they are." They had flowers; he at least knew that much.
She gave him a funny look and walked up the steps with him. The deck of the porch was wood and painted a complimentary color to the siding. He watched her look at the space as he sorted out the right key, saw she noted the hooks where a porch swing had once been. Something in her look said there would be again. He didn't think he'd mind. When he had the door unlocked, he gestured for her to precede him.
There was furniture, at least, and he acknowledged that was more than she had encountered when she arrived in Los Angeles. She had a bemused smile as she looked at the living room. Casey tried to see it through her eyes. It was spartan, but most of his living spaces were. Then he relaxed. He'd seen her home, and she wasn't exactly into stuffing spaces full of fluff and clutter. He gave her the tour, living room, dining room, kitchen, laundry room, an empty room the previous owners had used as a den, and a room that had formerly been a sun porch where he had set up an office space. He took her upstairs and pushed open the doors of the four bedrooms, bathroom, and master bedroom. Only the master bedroom and one other bedroom had furniture. She smiled at that. "What? I don't have guests as a rule," he said defensively, and she laughed.
He tossed his bag on his bed and unzipped it. He removed the contents and began going through his closet for what he needed to take with him. Riah came up behind him and stuffed his discarded clothes in the hamper and relieved him of the clean ones he pulled from the closet before she crossed to the bed where she began folding and packing. He watched her a moment then finished gathering the rest of his clothes.
Photojournalist. He grimaced at the thought. He would have preferred a different cover, but it did give him the advantage of moving around Gaza City with relative ease. As a result, he had pulled jeans and cargo pants, a pair of hiking boots that would do him well, though he would have preferred his combat boots, and the vest he'd acquired on a similar job years before.
Beckman would provide a press pass, the photographic equipment and the bag for it. That there would be a false bottom holding a disassembled weapon that couldn't be found with x-rays or metal detectors was a given. Riah made room for the other weapons he intended to take as he unlocked the gun safe in the closet and selected from his arsenal. He wished he had brought a couple of things from Castle, but he'd requisition them before boarding the plane. He added his personal body armor. He'd bought it custom-made, preferred it to current government issue. He also knew it was less likely to raise questions than if he wore the same armor the U. S. government handed out.
Riah zipped the bag closed, and Casey was amused when she didn't comment on what he'd chosen to pack. He reached down an overnight bag from a closet shelf and handed her pajamas and what he would need for the following day. Finished, she zipped that closed as well, and when she turned to say something, he cut her comment off with his mouth.
He was tempted to take her to bed and stay there until he had to get her to Reagan the next day. Her flight left a few hours before his, but he had promised his mother he would come home before he had to leave, and since she had released him to Riah for Christmas, he figured they had better go. It would be easier, he acknowledged, if Riah wasn't wearing that pinstriped suit. The first time he had seen her in it—the only other time he'd seen her in it—he had realized she was a sexy woman. The way the skirt slid along her thighs when she walked, the way she moved in the navy pumps she wore with it, the way it molded to her body, had caused him some interesting daydreams—dreams, too. Maybe, he thought, he should do himself a favor and remove that suit for his sanity.
They'd never get to his mother's if he did that.
Casey released her reluctantly and turned to pick up his bags. She followed him, waited beside him as he locked up, and then walked beside him to the car. Beckman had given him one of the NSA's SUVs, and while he had one of his own in the garage, it would save a trip back here to exchange them. He put Riah in the passenger seat and then stashed his bags in the back with hers before he climbed behind the wheel.
They had never discussed his family before, so he explained to her he had three sisters and described them and the rest of the extended Casey family. Riah grew quieter as they drove, and he caught her fingers, stopped them making restless movements in her lap. He took her left hand and drew it onto his thigh, linked her fingers with his, and continued to talk about his mother, his sisters' husbands and children. He realized he hadn't told his mother he was bringing Riah after all, and he shot a glance at the gas gauge. He'd call when he stopped, he decided, especially since Riah had begun to relax, and he wasn't ready yet to let go of her hand.
She drifted off to sleep, though, and he eased her hand back in her lap when he stopped at a station still a little over an hour from his mother's house. He filled the tank and then stood outside the car and called his mother to let her know he was on his way and that Riah was with him before he resumed driving.
As he pulled into his mother's drive, Riah stirred. Casey watched her come awake as he unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car. He went quickly around and opened her door. He envied her the two hours' sleep she had managed on the drive. He hadn't had any real sleep in more than thirty-six hours, and it was starting to catch up with him, especially since he had had little sleep in the seventy-two hours prior. Not, he reflected, that he much cared. This was the culmination of that lack of sleep, and he was quite happy with the end results: Riah wore his ring, they were getting married in several months, and if they could survive this visit to his family, everything would be fine.
He reached up for Riah and helped her step down from the high SUV. She followed him to the back for their suitcases, and he hoped his mother didn't give his fiancée as much trouble as she had the men his sisters had brought home.
His mother stepped onto her porch as they climbed the steps, but Casey wasn't surprised to see she had been watching for them. He hoped none of his sisters were inside as well. He didn't want Riah to feel overwhelmed, especially since she was already worried about meeting them all. She had told him they must hate her when he explained he was supposed to spend Christmas with his family and had, instead, gone to her. Perhaps, he thought, he should have told them about her before he left for Los Angeles after all. It might make it easier for Riah if they already knew what there was to know about her. He knew his sisters well enough to know they would put Riah through an interrogation that would make what Afghani warlords or the old KGB did look like a friendly chat over coffee.
Casey leaned down and kissed his mother's cheek. She quickly hugged him. He turned to Riah, took her hand, and said, "Mother, this is Mariah Adderly. Riah, my mother, Jane Casey."
"Call me Jane," his mother said, and smiled at Riah. "It's cold," she added. "Come
inside."
He held the door for his mother and Riah before following them in. He pulled the door closed behind him, automatically flipped the locks, and watched Riah study his mother warily. "Take your things upstairs, Johnny," she ordered briskly. "Show Mariah where you'll sleep before you come back down."
Casey wasn't sure he heard that correctly. It sounded like she expected him to put Riah in his room with him, but given how she felt about unmarried couples sleeping together, especially in her house, he must be misinterpreting what she said. He looked at Mariah and then, for clarity, asked, "Which room should I put Riah in?"
He had hoped she would put Riah in Jan's old room. It was next to his and had a double bed. He could easily slip next door to sleep with Riah and get back to his own room before his mother was up. He had no intention of sleeping in the same house with Riah but separated from her. He'd been away from her long enough, and tomorrow he'd be leaving her again for an indeterminate length of time.
His mother looked amused. "Any one you like, though I suppose you could just put her in yours." Having said that, she walked to the kitchen, and Casey stared thoughtfully after her. He almost laughed. There were twin beds in his room. She was letting him have Riah in his room under the assumption they wouldn't be able to share a bed.
Riah followed him upstairs, and he led her to his old room. When he swung the door open so she could enter, she gave a soft snort of amusement. She turned to him and asked with a grin, "Which one's mine?"
"I sleep in the one closest to the door," he told her with an answering grin as he kicked the door shut and set his overnight bag down. He raised his brows and offered, "You could share it."
She set her own bag down and turned to him, a faint smile on her lips. "It doesn't look big enough for you, let alone both of us."
Casey was suddenly aware that the last time he had had her alone—if he discounted the drive to his mother's—was when he left her in bed in Los Angeles. His mother was downstairs, probably setting out a late supper for them, and he knew she was unlikely to come looking for them unless they failed to go downstairs again. He stepped closer to Riah, put his arms around her, and gave her a long, slow kiss. "As I recall," he said softly when he lifted his head, "the two of us don't take up that much room in a bed."
There was a look in her eyes, hot and hungry, that almost had him locking his bedroom door and to hell with his mother. He kissed her again, hungry for her, but he knew he would take her downstairs instead. He held her close, kissed her temple, and said, "We could push them together." Riah pulled him down for another kiss, and he wondered if they could do so without his mother hearing them. "Although my mother usually has a thing about unmarried people sleeping together in her house."
Riah stiffened and looked up at him. He could see her concern, and he could tell she was worried about making a bad impression on his mother. Frankly, Casey didn't care. He hoped his mother would like Riah, but he was marrying her whether his mother approved or not. Admittedly, life would be a lot simpler if Jane Casey approved.
"Maybe I should sleep somewhere else."
"You stay with me," he told her firmly. That was non-negotiable. He helped her out of her coat and hung it in the closet before shedding his and hanging it there as well. He would have liked to take his suit off, too, suspected Riah would prefer to change into more comfortable clothes, but it seemed a waste of time, and he didn't want to waste what little time he had left. He thought about at least stripping off his tie, but his mother always gave him a look when he did that, as if wearing a suit required wearing a tie.
When they entered the kitchen, his mother was putting the finishing touches on the table. It amused Casey that she had pulled out her special occasion china, but then it dawned on him that his mother was trying to make a good impression on Riah. He used the hand on Riah's back to steer her to the seat next to his usual one and pulled the chair out for her. Riah shot him a nervous look. He gave her a reassuring smile. She looked over at his mother, and Casey knew Riah was about to ask if she could do anything to help, but his mother turned and told her, "Sit. You've had a long day from what Johnny said on the phone, and it's all ready."
Riah sat and looked at him as he took the seat beside her. His mother put bowls of stew in front of them and then added a bowl of biscuits. Casey was further amused at the nearly reverential look Riah gave those biscuits. His mother asked her what she'd like to drink, and Riah's absent "Water, please," coincided with her taking one of the biscuits. She broke it, smiled again, and Casey exchanged a look with his mother. He wasn't about to explain Riah's fascination with food, let alone the fact the bread clearly met with her approval. His mother set water before her, shrugged and picked up a mug of tea before she joined them at the table.
"How long can you stay?" she asked him.
"I leave tomorrow," he told her, and he didn't miss the quickly masked disappointment on his mother's face, nor did he miss the quick look she sent toward Riah. "I have to go overseas for an assignment, and then I'll return to Los Angeles." He never made promises to his family he couldn't keep. If he had the opportunity, he would try to get a day or two with them before he went home to Riah.
He saw Riah's guilty look at his mother's question and his answer. He didn't want her to think he was choosing between his family and her. There was no choice, as far as he was concerned, and Riah was now part of that family. He was, though, curious about the cause of the blush that stained her face as he told his mother he didn't know how long he would be out of the country.
The conversation remained general as they ate. His mother did most of the talking, told him what had happened since he left Christmas Eve, talked about the neighbors, others he knew. When they finished eating, his mother reached for his empty bowl, and Riah's manners compelled her to say, "That was very good. Thank you."
"You're welcome," his mother told her, and he could tell his mother was surprised to find her so polite. Then he realized she had expected someone more like how he had described Riah's mother over the years. Riah stood and picked up her empty bowl, but his mother reached for it and waved her back to her seat.
He picked up Riah's hand as his mother sat back down. His mother looked across at them and began asking Riah questions. She started benignly, asked Riah where she was from, and Riah told her. She asked about Riah's parents, and Riah blushed uncomfortably as she told her that, too. Riah went absolutely crimson when she was asked her age, and for the first time he wondered if she was sensitive about the difference in their ages. She answered questions about her schooling, including the fact that she held both a bachelor's and a master's degree in political science. He could tell his mother approved of that. She had always valued education, though, had pushed her children to go to college and been disappointed that none of them had gone beyond a four-year degree. Then she asked the first question that tripped Riah up. "Where do you plan to live when you marry Johnny?"
Casey intervened then. "With me," he told her tersely. They would live where the job was, he knew, though it was beginning to look like what Riah called the Chuck Watch might be a permanent assignment.
His mother hid a smile then asked if they had chosen a date. Riah told her they were going to marry on the Fourth, and his mother gave him a look that indicated she would singe his ears later. He shared her distaste for the idea, so he added, "It was literally the only workable date we could find," before he explained the logistical reasons why they had settled on it. His mother didn't look very mollified. She next asked where they would get married. Riah's hand trembled in his, and he knew she was worried about how his mother would react when they told her. "Los Angeles," Riah said so quietly Casey wondered if her voice carried across the table. His mother grimaced, but he knew that was because she thought Los Angeles was a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah. Casey told her it was easier than the alternatives, especially since he was unlikely to be able to leave his assignment for very long.
Switching tactics, perhaps because she read Riah's growing discomfort, she began asking about her family. She asked if Riah had any brothers or sisters, and Riah told her about Emma and then her stepfather. His mother asked if she had other family, and she talked about her mother's sisters. Casey had only met Lydia, the OB/GYN, but he knew Ariel had two other sisters as well, and Riah mentioned her five cousins. She explained that her father had an older brother who had been killed during service in the Canadian armed forces while her father was still in college. Casey hadn't realized Adderly was anything but an only child. Both sets of her grandparents, she told his mother, were dead.
Riah relaxed as she spoke of her family, but then his mother asked if she planned to have children. He felt Riah tense again and quietly growled, "Mother." He had told her about what happened to Riah earlier in the year, and he didn't want to open the wound again.
His mother ignored his warning, though. "Johnny told me you lost a child." Riah gave him a startled look. He flushed, realized he should have told her he'd explained about the baby to his mother, but he was a little pissed off his mother had not only brought it up but made it sound like something out of Oscar Wilde's play, The Importance of Being Earnest, as if Riah had misplaced the baby rather than miscarried. He was also annoyed that his mother made it sound like the baby had no connection to him, to them.
Riah looked up at him and answered, "We want children." He gave her hand a squeeze, but his mother had moved on to ask whether or not Riah would continue working when she became a mother.
Casey answered for her. "There's time to make those decisions, Mother." he told her. He hadn't told her Riah, essentially, was no longer employed, and he wasn't going to yet. He still thought it unfair that she had been railroaded into giving up her career, and while he was glad she loved him enough to do so, he was more than a little afraid she would come to resent her decision. He hoped he could find a way around their bosses' insistence that she had to quit. For a moment, he thought Riah was going to answer anyway, but she studied him and said nothing.
One thing for which he had always respected his mother was that she knew when to back off. She had asked Riah a number of relatively intrusive questions, but she had avoided asking any that were too far over the line. She looked at them and said, "Your sisters are coming in the morning to meet Mariah. She looks done in. You, too, Johnny." She stood and said, "I'll see you both in the morning."
Casey told Riah to take the bathroom first when they reached his room. She put her case on the spare bed and dug out what she needed. He was tired, and while she was in the bathroom, he got his shaving kit and pajama bottoms. He removed his suit and hung it in the closet before stripping down and pulling on the black pants. He had hoped they could sleep late in the morning. Knowing his sisters, they would be over fairly early, so that precluded anything that might be a celebration of the fact that he and Riah were getting married. He found himself grinning at the thought: They were getting married. Casey had been enormously relieved when Beckman had given them the news. Riah, as her father noted, had paid the price, and Casey would have to make it up to her.
He caught his breath as she returned to his room wearing a black nightgown. It wasn't entirely opaque. He hoped like hell she hadn't met his mother in the hallway. He could see her nipples through the fabric, and she was obviously not wearing panties. When he returned to his bedroom after brushing his teeth, she stood between the two beds removing her jewelry. He gathered her close and kissed her, wished he didn't need sleep as badly as he did. "If there was more time and I wasn't so tired," he apologized softly, "we'd celebrate."
Riah pulled him down into a searing kiss, and he maneuvered them toward his bed. He sat and tugged her between his knees and up against him before asking, "Together in one bed, push them together into a single bed, or sleep separately?"
"Let's try the first," she told him, running her hands over his shoulders and up his neck to cup his face. She leaned in for another brief kiss before he stood and picked up the covers so she could climb in. He turned and grabbed the pillow off the spare bed and slid in beside her. As he had done so many nights before, he reached for her, helped her settle in against him, and their legs and arms slid over and around each other. She lifted her face, and he took her mouth for a goodnight kiss. When her mouth opened and her tongue found his, he weighed whether or not he was too tired to love her.
"Your mother isn't going to be upset by this, is she?" she asked when he pressed his lips to her forehead.
He breathed in, savored her scent. "She's the one who suggested I put you in my room." He took her mouth again for a slow, deep kiss. "Unfortunately," he told her, "she's not going to have anything to complain about. I'm simply too tired, Riah."
Riah snuggled a little closer. "I love you, John," she murmured.
Casey teetered on the edge of sleep when he whispered back, "Love you, too."