Author's PSA: Insulin shots available from your local practitioner.
Ghosts that Haunt—21
It was obvious Casey had taken Riah by surprise. Her eyes shot wide, filled with suspicion, and she paled. For a second he thought she might be afraid this would completely thwart her mother's plans for their wedding, despite not liking those plans. "We—we'd have to get a license," she stammered, "and that takes time."
Of all the excuses he had expected he might have to counter, that hadn't made the list. He'd done the research, knew there were two kinds of marriage licenses in California, including the one he intended they get. He had no intention of cancelling their July wedding, mainly because he didn't want to listen to years of whining from the women in both their families. He knew, though, that the wedding they planned might not happen as or when they intended. For one, he was going overseas on one of Beckman's side jobs in the next few days. Assuming he survived that, he also knew Beckman was considering shutting down the Intersect project completely, and if she did, he'd go back to command his old unit. He wanted to know Riah and the baby were legally protected in the event something happened to him.
He watched her carefully a moment before he responded to her. "Not in California."
It wasn't the least bit difficult to read Riah's confusion, but he waited, curious whether she would throw any other impediments at him. She frowned, and Casey watched her think. When she finally spoke, her voice was faint, a little breathless. "Today?"
Cupping her cheek, Casey leaned in to kiss her. "We can get a license from a county clerk without having to wait," he explained softly. "I have a friend, a minister, who can marry us this evening." He leaned closer, let his mouth coax hers. "What do you say?"
Riah's expression shifted several times as he waited, and when she finally landed on suspicious, the look she gave him made him wonder if she thought he'd finally had enough of the jokes over the date they'd chosen, an idea reinforced by a sort of wince and her soft, shaky, "We're supposed to get married in July."
From the look of her, it was possible she would refuse to do as he wished, would instead make him wait until that July date. Casey considered other arguments she might offer and a few arguments of his own that might persuade her. When she said nothing further, he assured her, "We will." She cocked her head and stared thoughtfully at him. He knew he was going to have to explain the change in plan. "Riah, I'm about to get another assignment from General Beckman. I'm going overseas again. It's dangerous, and I want to make sure you're taken care of, protected, if something happens—you and the baby."
It only took a second for the panic to well up. Before he could reassure her, though, she breathed, "John, don't." Her voice shook, her eyes filled, and she trembled against him. He knew what she thought, knew her trainers likely had the same superstitions his had had. After all, nearly all of them were believers in the self-fulfilling prophecy: if you thought you'd die, you usually did.
There wasn't time to lay her concerns fully to rest, and any reassurances he could give her might well prove to be untrue. He knew the risks, and so did she. He was at least glad the tears remained unshed—so far. His thumb lightly stroked over her cheekbone, and he leaned down so that he was eye-to-eye with her. "Riah, I might not come back—at least not alive. You know it; I know it." If nothing else, his last assignment in Gaza should have made that clear. "I'd feel better if I knew you had rights, if you were already my wife." He trailed off and slid his other hand over her abdomen. "That way you'll both be taken care of."
Riah's eyes met his. There was a moment when he thought she would remind him of the paperwork he'd had drawn up and sent to her before he left for Gaza. After several moments, though, her troubled gaze cleared and a tiny, uncertain smile tipped her lips. "Yes," she whispered, and she reached up to cradle his face. He murmured that he loved her, and he lowered his mouth to hers. Mostly, though, he was grateful she didn't continue to protest.
They drove on, went to Salinas, and Casey held her hand in his, hoped she wouldn't change her mind. When they were inside the office and stepped up to the counter, he told the clerk behind it what they wanted. The woman asked if they wanted a regular or confidential license. Casey told her they wanted the confidential license. While the clerk found the correct forms, he leaned down and quietly explained to Riah that it would take a court order for anyone to find out they had gotten married and that this particular license meant they wouldn't need witnesses.
As they waited, he realized that sounded eerily similar to his job: secret, preferably without witnesses.
Riah leaned into him and raised her brows. "That should keep our mothers from killing us."
Casey snorted. "Your mother is the unreasonable one." Truth was, he had the distinct impression his mother might prove less than reasonable if she ever found out what they were about to do. She'd made it more than plain to him when she visited him in Maryland after the Gaza disaster that she had waited a very long time to see her son married.
They showed identification, and Casey noticed Riah pulled out her Canadian passport. The woman shook her head, gave a funny smile as she inspected it. when she handed it back to Riah, she said, "You're my second Canadian today."
It didn't take long to complete the application, though at one point Riah asked him softly if this was actually legal. He gruffly assured her it was. There were several places in the U.S. that allowed couples to get a license and marry immediately, but only California allowed them to do so and keep it concealed. God bless celebrities, he thought as he handed over the form, for once charitable toward a group of people for whom he generally had little use. He wasn't about to say that to Riah, though, since his view was clouded by her mother and her mother's friends.
To his amusement, they had to sign an affidavit that they had been living as man and wife, and for a brief moment, Casey thought Riah was going to ask the clerk for clarifcation about what, exactly, that meant. Thankfully, she didn't. The clerk explained to Riah about California's name law, how she could choose her own last name, and when she filled in Mariah Elizabeth Casey, he couldn't help feeling happy she wouldn't keep her maiden name or hyphenate her last name. So he was a sexist pig, he acknowledged, since he knew that's exactly how her mother would see it.
As they left the clerk's office, Casey slipped the folded license inside his jacket pocket. Riah stopped cold outside the building. She looked up at him when he turned to ask her what was wrong. "I need to go shopping," she said and went crimson.
He frowned down at her, mildly irritated by her unusual girly moment, mostly because they were on a carefully plotted timeline if what he'd planned was to come off successfully. When he asked why, she told him she had only brought casual clothes, and he realized he should have told her she needed to bring something other than jeans. He admitted he'd brought a suit when she asked, so he looked at his watch and asked how long she thought she needed. She shrugged, suggested an hour. He escorted her to the car.
Since neither of them were familiar with Salinas, Riah suggest the mall, so he drove there, walked in with her. Riah looked up at him, and Casey could tell she was about to tell him to get lost. He reconciled himself to letting her out of sight to shop. He told her he'd be in the food court. On the way there, he stopped in a bookstore, bought a paper and a cup of decent coffee, and when he reached his destination, he found a table that provided a vantage point that allowed him to watch people come and go from all entrances to the area. He made himself comfortable and made a call, explained there would likely be a slight delay and renegotiated the timeline.
Casey was surprised Riah didn't use the entire hour. He knew she hadn't because he shot a look at his watch when he saw her approach. She carried a dress bag, a distinctive pink bag he recognized as one from Victoria's Secret, and another that held shoes.
Women, he thought with a derisive snort, and stood to intercept her. Then again, she'd apparently been highly efficient at her task, so she probably didn't deserve his Pavlovian snide thought. It was only then he realized they had another bit of shopping to do.
When she reached him, Casey took her dress and the other two bags. He tried to peek in the bag with the lingerie shop's logo, but whatever she'd bought had been packed into pink tissue. After he'd put her purchases in the car, he took her hand and told her they had one more thing to do. He led her back in the mall and took her to a jeweller's. He stopped outside the store he'd selected. "We can buy something to go with your ring, if we find something suitable," he said, "or we can just buy plain bands for the moment and get something else for July."
Thankfully, she understood that as the question he intended. She chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip a moment before she stammered that she didn't care. Then she frowned and asked, "You intend to wear a ring?"
Casey gave her a look that was only marginally softer than the look he usually gave Bartowski when the younger man said something idiotic. He fully intended to do so, though, admittedly, if they were keeping this quiet, it was more likely to lie in a drawer until they were officially married. After all, if she wore his, he'd wear hers.
They looked at platinum, but Casey didn't like any of the ones the store carried. Riah didn't look enthusiastic, either, to the chagrin of the salesman. The few Riah tried on looked cheap next to her engagement ring. The man behind the counter looked at him like he was a lunatic when Casey asked him to show them plain gold bands. Casey gave him such a hard stare that he didn't dare argue. He watched Riah bite back her amusement as she looked at the rings. "We'll find something later that matches yours," he promised once more. He had a feeling he'd need to pay a visit to Tiffany's again in order to deliver on that particular promise.
After a few moments, he realized she only looked at cheap, thin, bands. He was determined to buy her something better. He plucked up a much thicker, better quality ring and asked what she thought. She looked at him as he continued to hold it out to her. She finally slipped her engagement ring off, and he slid the band over her finger. It fit, and she stared thoughtfully at it. When she met his eyes and nodded, Casey gently slid it off, handed it to the man behind the counter and said they'd take it.
Riah pointed to its mate, and when they had found one to fit Casey's finger, it, too, was handed to the jeweller. She insisted on paying for his ring. Not wanting another argument like the one they'd had over her engagement ring, he gave in, though admittedly not very gracefully.
She carried the bag with the ring boxes back to his car. They drove on while he explained that he'd made reservations at a bed and breakfast on the coast near Big Sur. It was owned by the former chaplain for his old unit, he told her, and the man would marry them that evening. Tim had a lucrative wedding business he ran from his B & B.
"You had this all planned out, didn't you?"
He gave her a quick look followed by a short snort. "Course." By now, Riah should have realized he wasn't exactly prone to spontaneous acts except during the middle of an assignment rapidly going wrong. Generally speaking, he preferred to know exactly what he was going to do and exactly what the likely outcomes were, though he would concede that things didn't always go to plan. He believed in contingency planning, and he had carefully considered what he would have done had she rejected his request to go ahead and get married.
Casey bit back the instinctive smile. He knew how to persuade her, and he would have exercised each and every method until he got the required result. After all, they'd been together long enough he knew how to exploit her responsiveness in order to get what he wanted. She almost never complained, either, he acknowledged smugly, even when she figured out he had manipulated her.
Riah leaned back in the seat and rolled her head toward him. For a split second, Casey wondered if she'd back out now that he had, essentially, admitted he'd planned a wedding and not consulted her. "What if I had said no, insisted on waiting until the date we'd already set?"
A small grin slashed across Casey's face. "I would have persuaded you."
"That sure of yourself, Major?" He didn't answer, and she apparently didn't expect him to since she turned to stare out the window at the landscape rolling past. "You know," she said after a while, "we can't tell anyone about this."
Since that was part of the point of the license they'd just obtained, Casey didn't feel a need to respond. When he didn't say anything, she turned to look at him. "There would be no July wedding," she said with a grin. "I'd be alright with that, but I think our mothers would kill us." That smile slid to a dangerous grin. "On the other hand, if I like your work here, you can take over the planning for July."
She was undoubtedly right about the odds on their mothers committing homicide. On the other hand, he had no intention of battling her mother over wedding plans. "Since I've done my part here, I think that's still your job—unless you'd like your mother to wind up a victim of rendition or an execution."
Riah grinned broadly, but when he shot a look at her, it was obvious she didn't believe him. He'd have to work on that. "Hmm. On which date will we celebrate our anniversary?" she teased.
"If we want to live," he told her, arched a brow and gave her a slight grin, "July 4."
She laughed. Neither of them could ever confess what they would do that evening. Bartowski's lady feelings would be crushed, and he had a feeling that would prove true for most of their friends and family. Emma MacKenzie might kneecap them—or just catch Casey off guard and knee him since it would cheat her out of being maid of honor. His future sister-in-law had a temper, he had come to realize, and when coupled with smarts that rivaled Riah's and a ruthless streak she had inherited from their mother, he figured Emma would disable him handily.
The bed and breakfast was a monster of a house on the rocky coast. The huge, late nineteenth century home oddly suited its setting. He'd known Riah would like it when Tim Andrews e-mailed him the directions and some pictures. She stared out at the ocean as he got their bags. A slight smile curved her lips, and Casey realized the coast resembled Newfoundland. Casey's friend greeted them at the front desk, and after he introduced Riah to the former chaplain, Tim told Casey everything was ready, asked for the license—which Casey handed over—and then asked what time they'd like to do the ceremony.
When Casey looked at Riah, noted her pinched face and more tears gathering, he had a moment where he thought she would balk, rebel because he hadn't consulted her about any of this. He sought the words to defuse her, but then she asked Tim what time the sun set. Curious, Casey listened to the two talk, and realized Riah was going to go for at least one cliché after all. He wondered if it was her way of getting some of her own back. She blushed, then said, "At home, I always used to walk the shore at sunset—sunrise, too." She looked at Casey, then, and added, "They're my favorite times of day." She asked if they could get married just before sunset. Casey shrugged his consent at Tim who agreed and gave them a time to meet for the ceremony.
She waited patiently as Tim checked them in and then took them upstairs where he and Casey left Riah and her things in the room where they would spend their wedding night. Casey kissed her and then followed Tim back down to his office.
"I can honestly say, Casey," the other man said as he found two glasses and a bottle of scotch, "that when you called me and told me what you had in mind, I figured one of us had lost his mind."
Casey grunted. He couldn't hold it against Tim, especially since he had a carefully built reputation as a confirmed bachelor. "Must have been you," he retorted as he accepted a glass.
Tim shook his head, then grinned. "She's a pretty thing."
He nodded agreement, took no offense since it was an obvious fact, but he did wonder whether he would continue to hear variations on Paul Patterson's pretty little girl from everyone he'd served with.
"Bit young, isn't she?"
His amusement vanished, and his face hardened. It wasn't the first time he'd heard that one, either, but it irritated him every time he did.
Tim shrugged, raised his glass. "Fearless, though, if she's willing to take you on."
Casey gave another grunt, sipped at his own drink and considered that. He wouldn't call Riah fearless, exactly, even though he knew he wasn't exactly easy to live with. He was old enough to be set in his ways, but so far Riah hadn't really asked anything of him he wasn't willing to do—at least not yet. As he gave it some thought, he wasn't entirely sure about some of the changes they would both have to make given her condition. He considered telling Tim she was pregnant, but he'd promised to say nothing until Riah was sure another miscarriage was unlikely. Tim would keep the confidence, Casey knew, but he decided to honor her wishes.
One thing he'd not shared with Riah was the phone call from her aunt after her first checkup. Lydia told him she was worried about her niece and made him promise to watch her carefully, made him promise he would contact her if Riah seemed to slide into depression again. She also ran him through a checklist of things to watch for that could indicate something was going wrong with Riah's pregnancy, finished with, "I don't think she can survive it a second, time, Casey."
Because he worried about her emotional state as well, he decided not to risk angering her, so he didn't tell Tim why he had decided to push ahead and marry her right away.
"We have what you asked for," Tim told him. "My staff will set it up in your room while we go do the deed." He tipped a bit more scotch in Casey's glass and then in his own before he lifted a brow and asked, "Are you sure you don't want champagne?"
Casey told the lie, mainly because to do otherwise meant he would have to admit Riah was pregnant. "Riah doesn't drink." He didn't feel guilty for the deception since it would be true for the next several months.
That particular lie, though, led to merciless teasing. Tim was more than a little amused by the idea that Casey was marrying a prim and proper woman, one who didn't drink, and he asked what other of Casey's vices she failed to share. Casey didn't disabuse him of his delusion. Riah, like him, wasn't exactly a saint, but she certainly hadn't sinned at quite his level. Casey bore it well, and when Tim decided to remind him of some of his more colorful transgressions, he laughed, remembered a few of them fondly and hoped Riah never found out. Then again, she seemed to roll pretty well with most of the revelations about Casey's past.
When he went to Tim's quarters to shower and change, he considered the list of things he hadn't told Riah about that past. There were some things he would likely have to admit, but it was so ingrained in him to hide the truth that he struggled with the notion he ought to make a few confessions. It was a calculated risk to hope he might never have to reveal some of the things he'd done, so he weighed carefully what it might be best to leave hidden. He thought about what he could tell her, what he should tell her, and what should remain unsaid. As he shrugged on his suit jacket, he decided he had no intention of telling his wife lies. He didn't want a relationship built on falsehoods, and he wondered, given his job, how he could be honest with her and still protect what he must.
He had no answer for that question, and that troubled him most of all.
Casey handed his bag to the maid who would take it to Riah's room while they got married. Tim suggested he go get Riah since it was nearly time. Casey climbed the stairs and wondered what she thought about getting married with no family or friends in attendance. They were both private people, each for their own reasons. He had to admit he didn't really look forward to July and the ritual high ceremony he'd likely be put through if Riah's mother finally wore her down, though a part of him liked the idea of claiming her in front of those absent family and friends. This evening, though, it would be just the two of them, and that made it mean all the more to him. July might be for show, but this felt strangely right to him, real in a way he didn't think the other ceremony would.
It was odd to stand before her door and realize he was nervous. He shook his head, breathed in deeply, gathered his courage, and knocked softly. It wasn't the first time he'd felt this way, though when she opened the door, it disappeared.
The dress she bought was a soft, green silk that left her arms and shoulders bare while its hem skimmed the floor. The neckline angled up to her collarbones and connected to the matching back with strips of the same fabric. She'd put her hair up, and she wore the green garnets he'd given her for her birthday in her ears. She had a length of matching green fabric tucked over her elbows that trailed to the floor.
Casey stared solemnly at her, said nothing. Finally, when he noticed she began to look worried, fidgeted uncomfortably, he cleared his throat. "You look—" he swallowed. "You look beautiful."
Her smile dawned nearly as bright as one of Bartowski's. "So do you," she whispered.
"Hate to break it to you," he told her as he reached out and drew her against him, "but men aren't beautiful."
The smile slid to grin. "Fat lot you know."
He ignored that, was about to suggest they go, but he hesitated, eyed the thin fabric of her dress. "Will you be cold?"
She gave him another smile. "I'm Canadian, John. Though I've been spoiled by a year in southern California, this evening's predicted temperature is shirt-sleeve weather where I normally live."
Tim waited at the foot of the stairs, and they attracted a few looks from other guests, but Casey ignored them. Tim suggested they go before they lost the light, and Casey let him lead the way to where they would get married. As they walked, he slipped a hand into his trouser pocket where he had stuck their rings, made sure both were there.
He stood there beside Riah, faced the ocean as the short service began. She looked up at him as she said her vows, and Casey noticed her voice faltered slightly when she did. He repeated his own, noticed she had removed her engagement ring before she left their room when he slid her wedding band into place. Her hand shook, and she almost dropped his ring when it was her turn to slide his on his ring finger. When he bent to kiss her, his breath froze when he realized a few tears dropped, but she whispered, "Happy," then smiled. "I'm pregnant, John. Everything makes me cry." Then she melted into the gentle touch of his mouth on hers.
Tim shook her hand and kissed her cheek, made her laugh when he said, solemnly but with a wicked twinkle, "May God help you, Mariah, with the tribulations you are likely to endure with this one." Casey's scowl made Tim grin when the other man turned to congratulate him. They stood a moment in the dying sun and let Tim take a photograph, and then Casey bent and kissed her again before they returned to the bed and breakfast and signed the paperwork. Tim explained he would file the license for them so their marriage was legal.
"Everything else a go?" Casey asked when business was out of the way.
Tim grinned and nodded. "Enjoy," he said, and Casey led Riah back upstairs. They made their way to the room where she had prepared for their wedding. Casey's things were there now, and the small sitting area was set for dinner. Casey noticed she approved of the prettily set table and candles, and so did he, though he wasn't about to admit it. He answered the discreet knock on the door, and a waiter entered with their dinner. Casey seated her at the table, and the waiter left after he had served them.
"No champagne," he told her as he filled her glass with the same brand of sparkling cider she had for her birthday the previous year. She smiled, and he remembered sitting beside her, trailing his hands over her while her mother watched them like a hawk. Neither Riah nor Ariel had been amused at the time, but Casey was downright fond of the memory, especially since he hoped to run his hands over pretty much every inch of her before the night was finished. With any luck, she'd reciprocate.
"I can survive," she said. Her smile faded. "I won't mind if you have something else."
He ignored that, though he had noticed Tim had sent up a bottle of Macallan. The steak was exactly as he liked it, served with fingerling potatoes and grilled asparagus. Truthfully, he would have been happy with just about anything under the circumstances. He finished with a glass of scotch, and when Riah pushed her plate away, Casey asked if she wanted any of the cake Tim's staff had provided. She declined, though, so Casey reached across and took her hand. She looked at him, and he stood, helped her to her feet, and kissed her. She leaned into him as his mouth moved over hers and his tongue slid inside her mouth.
Casey removed her clothes, and she very thoughtfully worked at removing his. Buttons and zippers opened, and fabric slid. Hands and mouths explored. Sex was different that night, slower, softer, sweeter, and Casey refused to think about leaving her soon, refused to think about why he'd done what he had that day. He intended to live in the now until he had to go.
"Riah?" he asked as he watched the shadows on the ceiling.
She sounded sleepy when she mumbled an answer.
He debated with himself a moment, and then he made promises that weren't part of the vows they had exchanged. "I want you to know that while there are things I'll never be able to tell you, I will never deliberately lie to you."
Riah's head lifted from his shoulder, and she studied him. He could tell she was trying to figure out why he had told her that. "John?"
"I just won't tell you anything if I can't tell you the truth," he continued. "I can't promise I'll always be with you when you need me, but I'll do my best," he told her, ticked another item off the list of promises he felt really should have been part of the marriage vows, all things considered. "I plan to make sure that if you need me, you'll always know how to find me or have me found."
Her body moved, and she lifted on her elbows, looked down at him. "Is there something I need to know?" she asked, and he could hear a healthy suspicion in her voice.
He rolled more fully on his back, reached up and cradled her cheek. "Men who do what I do aren't exactly reliable husbands."
"Something tells me you will be," she said softly, "but why are you saying these things?"
It was a good question, but he wasn't entirely sure what the answer was. He suspected it had as much to do with the fact that there would always be secrets as it did with anything else. He was glad she had more faith in him than he had in himself, and that let him finally admit, "I think Beckman's close to shutting down the Intersect." He shifted a little closer to her. "If she does, she'll reassign me to my old unit, and that means I'll be leaving you for much longer than the usual few days."
She rolled closer to him, and he appreciated that she didn't ask what would happen to Bartowski. Riah was a smart woman, and he had a feeling she knew the answer to that unasked question. "I can't say that makes me happy, John, but I'm not going to stop you."
He stroked the hand on her cheek against her skin, let it glide to her nape and pulled her down so he could kiss her.
"I won't lie to you, either, John, though, admittedly, I won't have state secrets I'll need to conceal soon." She frowned. "I guess I'll need to start the paperwork and the resignation procedures as soon as we get back."
He'd managed to forget that—or at least ignore it—and he considered telling her to delay until closer to July. After all, Beckman had suggested just that, so the General could hardly complain if Riah waited a month or two more. On the other hand, if their early marriage ever came to light, it would negate the deal they had made—she had made—and he didn't intend to give anyone cause to separate them. He caught her mouth again, rolled her to the side, and then studied her in the faint light from the still-burning candles.
"Riah," he began, but this time she drew him to her, kissed him with a thoroughness he appreciated.
"Your past is your past, John," she told him softly. "I don't really need to know unless it isn't really past."
Perhaps he had a troubled conscience after all, because he nearly told her, nearly let it all spill out—Kathleen, Honduras, and all the ugly things he'd done. Then, he decided she was right. They were building a life together, a future, and the past should remain exactly that. To bring it up would serve no purpose, especially since she knew part of it and the rest was unlikely to ever surface.
Curious, he asked, "Anything you feel compelled to tell me?"
She didn't smile. Instead, her face went solemn. The tip of her tongue traced her upper lip as she met his gaze. He waited, curious what she might tell him. "I've killed three men and two women."
That, he had to admit, surprised him. "Did they deserve it?"
"Four of them did," she said quietly, "but the other was unavoidable collateral damage."
For a moment he was tempted to ask by what method, but something in her expression had him swallowing that particular question. He could hardly judge her, though. His body count was shockingly high, exponentially higher than hers, and there were always those in anyone's count who were collateral damage, unavoidable or not. He knew that absolution never came, regardless of which column of the tally sheet the dead were counted, that those of them who were responsible for those hash marks simply learned to live with what they did. He pulled her closer, though, ran his hand slowly up and down her spine, and told her, "We all do what we have to."
She nodded. "I'm not completely sorry to leave it," she told him.
He'd been mad as hell that she had to quit because of him, but she, apparently, was fine with it. Casey considered that, considered how he'd feel if he were forced to do the same. He knew he wouldn't be the least bit happy about it. "I assume you'll want to leave the Buy More, too," he said, "assuming Operation Moron is still in business." She might as well, he supposed. It wasn't like she would have any real reason to continue working there when she left ISI.
"I actually hadn't given it much thought," she admitted. "It's something to do, though I can't say I enjoy it all that much." She tracked her hand over his chest to his shoulder. "I think, though, if the Intersect is still operational when my due date is close that I'd like to quit, stay home." Before he could ask, she met his eyes and added, "I can afford to stay home with the baby, but I suppose we still have to live the cover, so perhaps I should simply take maternity leave and go back so no one questions how we can afford to live on just your Buy More salary."
He couldn't argue with that, but he knew that if Beckman shut down the Intersect project, they would both leave the Buy More. "If this assignment is over by then," he told her, "we'll be in Maryland. You might find something else you might like to do."
She gave him a wicked grin, rubbed against him, trailed her hands and other, more interesting parts along his skin and said, "I think that right now I'd like to do you."
Casey snorted, rolled on his back, and surrendered.
As he drifted off to sleep after completing the nightly ritual he'd begun the night she told him she was pregnant—kissing her abdomen and saying goodnight to their child—he cradled Riah against him and wished it could always be like this.
The next morning they ate breakfast, and then they packed and checked out. Riah thanked Tim, and Casey did as well. Tim handed Casey an envelope as they put the bags in the Vic's trunk, and he grinned when he looked inside to see two copies of the photograph the chaplain had taken the night before. He accepted Tim's congratulations again, shook hands, and got in the car.
Sunlight caught the wedding ring he still wore, and he regretted he'd have to remove it when they were back to their normal life, such as it was. When they arrived home, he knew, she would remove hers, replace it with her engagement ring, and return to playing his girlfriend again.
He glanced over at her, saw her staring pensively out her window. He wondered what made her look that way, wondered if she regretted what they had done. Casey didn't, and he hoped she didn't, either. He lifted her hand, kissed it, and growled, "Stop it."
"Stop what?"
He shot her a look. "It won't be like last time," he said quietly, certain she worried about him leaving her. "Beckman's promised that if you need me, she'll see I get the message."
"You told her?" He could tell that surprised her, and he could hear the faint edge of anger in her voice.
He kept his eyes on the road. "Not exactly," he said, and he felt heat run up his face, "but I made it plain that I would walk away if she ever kept anything about you from me again."
"Nice bluff," she said, but her voice was toneless.
Casey looked over at her a minute. "It wasn't a bluff, and she knows it."
She looked like she'd cry, but Casey sincerely hoped she wouldn't. He watched for places to pull over if she did. He knew from his sisters' pregnancies that women sometimes burst into tears for no real reason when they were in Riah's condition, but he'd never been especially comfortable with a woman in tears regardless of the reason for them. He heard her unbuckle her seatbelt, and then she slid over the bench to sit right beside him. She leaned up and kissed his cheek before she fished the middle belt out of the seat and buckled it. Then she laid her head against his shoulder. He pressed his mouth briefly against the top of her head. "I plan to be there, Riah, for all of it—your appointments with Lydia, the baby's birth, all of it."
Her cheek rubbed against his shoulder, and he looked at her. Despite her faint smile, she appeared worrried. He suspected she didn't believe him, but that was okay. He knew he might not be able to, but he'd do everything he could to see that what he'd just said was a promise and not a statement of intent.
At some point during the drive, Riah fell asleep. He let her sleep, figured she needed the rest. He considered what life would be like from this point on, and he sincerely hoped he was able to live up to his wife's expectations.
As they unpacked, they agreed not to wear their rings in public. Casey had mixed emotions when he watched her replace her wedding band with her engagement ring. He turned his own band on his finger while she dropped hers in her jewelry box. He finally slid his off, looked at it in his palm and decided he wanted it with him. While she went to start dinner, he found the slim wallet with his NSA ID and badge and slipped it behind the ID card.
Less than a week later, all hell broke loose.