"So. Since I'm not getting any info from Bradshaw—you two a thing?"
"That's really none of your business," Casey replies, sliding the pair of beers she has just opened towards the aviator in question, with one brow cocked in skeptical surprise, "Though something tells me you're not just gonna take that at face-value—"
"Why would I when I have a pretty little thing like you to explain it all?"
"Flattery won't change the fact that it's none of your business, Hangman."
"Maybe it will if you let it sink in and give it a chance," The pilot insists, leaning against the bar, with what is clearly meant to be a charming smile, "And you can call me Jake."
"You really don't like to give up, do you?"
"Not a chance," Jake confirms, his grin only growing wider as Casey offers him an exaggerated roll of the eyes, "Especially when I'm lookin' at a girl like you."
"I'm not with Bradshaw," Casey finally admits, her efforts to keep the resignation out of her tone clearly failing if the sudden hint of curiosity in Jake's expression is any sort of indication at all. She hadn't entirely intended to make the confession so quickly, given her own feelings on the topic, but it also didn't seem entirely prudent to continue in a lie.
Even if she were to march right over to Bradley and spill everything that has been troubling her for the last few weeks, there is no guarantee over how he will react. Whether he will want what she has caught herself daydreaming about, or if he would rather things simply remain as they are. And perhaps it is that reality on its own that has her managing an addition to her initial reply, even knowing Jake may choose to ignore it altogether.
"But that doesn't mean I'm interested in you."
"You're still talkin' to me."
"Maybe that's just because I'm trying to do my job."
The reply comes with a thin smile, but mercifully, before she has to make any further attempts at persuading her would-be—whatever it is that Jake wants to be—to drop the subject entirely, she catches him holding both hands out in a gesture of what can only be surrender. Not long after, he is reaching for the requested beers, and taking both in hand.
In spite of herself, Casey finds it almost impossible to resist the faint sigh of relief that comes about as a result, but just as she is preparing to turn away in search of another task, Jake is pulling her attention back to him once more.
"You're seriously not gonna give me anything? Not even a hint?"
"Not even a hint. Or did you forget that you threw my dad out of this very bar last night?"
"Your—Maverick is your dad," Jake stammers, the sight of the dawning comprehension that steals over his features proving to be far more amusing than Casey initially believed it would be, "That's—that's just great."
"Isn't it, though?"
The sweet smile Casey manages in tandem with the retort seems to amuse her companion, if the laugh he gives her is any sort of indication at all. She watches as he offers her one final nod before taking the beers over to the same pool table he and his friends had gathered around the previous night, leaning over to say something to a darker-skinned pilot that prompts him to look her way as well.
She manages a small wave before turning to attend to another patron wanting a second rum and coke, but even if she has absolutely no intention of giving Jake the information he wants, she would be a liar to pretend the distraction, temporary though it was, is not exactly what she needs.
It seems to be capable of keeping her from her own thoughts, at least for the time-being. And as she catches Bradley's eye from across the room, she is even capable of managing a genuine smile.
A smile that comes with the sudden belief that maybe, she can actually do this after all.
…
"Is Casey alright?"
The question escapes before Pete can even attempt to stop it, the preoccupation he'd felt with his daughter's behavior earlier clearly not intending to let up. Even when he should have been paying attention to Penny—to getting the boat to the yard as he'd promised—he'd been distracted. Worried, if he were being honest.
Just from the look Penny gives in response as she allows him to help her climb off of the back of his bike, Pete can tell she's been harboring her own concerns, as well. And even if she might not have wanted to bring them out into the open, she does not make any move to resist, now that he has done so himself.
"She's certainly doing what she can to make it appear as though she is."
"But you have doubts."
"I do," Penny agrees, remaining exactly where she is, in spite of the brief glance she directs back towards the propped open door of the bar that has become her pride and joy, "But if I push, she'll just pull away even more."
"Want me to try and talk to her?" Pete offers, doing his best to keep whatever skepticism he might have over the thought at bay, at the least so that Penny will not notice it straightaway, "Might be able to help."
"Aren't you going to be a little busy with this new assignment?"
"I'm never too busy for her, Pen. You know that."
Penny does know it, but the reassurance is appreciated nonetheless, the idea of having at least some manner of backup when it comes to Casey a thing that she clearly still needs, despite the years that have passed since her daughter became an adult in her own right. Regardless of that fact, the desire to protect her—to help her—had never truly gone away. Penny honestly doubts that it ever will, even if Casey does decide to stop favoring her father's easy-going recklessness as much as she does right now.
A laugh escapes at just the thought of such a sudden change, impossible though it may seem. And it is that small show of amusement that seems to jolt the conversation back to life, Pete's brow furrowing as he swings his leg over the bike and prepares to head toward the bar himself.
"What's so funny?"
"Does something have to be funny?" Penny questions, quirking a brow at Pete as he falls into step beside her, the sound of music echoing through the doors of the bar giving her more reason to believe Casey is handling things well enough on her own than anything else could, "Or can't I just laugh because I want to."
"Sounds to me like Casey's not the only one trying to keep people in the dark."
"Maybe I'm just thinking our daughter is a lot more like you than I'm prepared to admit."
"Is that a good thing?" Pete asks, the question holding an equal mix of amusement and concern, a sensation that only seems to grow as soon as he notes the expression Penny sends his way in tandem with her reply.
"I think that depends, Pete."
"Depends on what?"
"On how whatever's been bothering her this time ends."
"Any ideas exactly what that something might be?"
Penny does not immediately reply, her attention clearly more focused on slipping through a few of the patrons gathered near the door, and leaving Pete to follow along in her wake, more so than anything else. But even without anything remotely close to the answer he is searching for, he watches as Penny maneuvers her way behind the bar. As she places a light hand on Casey's shoulder, and sends their daughter a ready smile.
Casey seems to accept the gesture readily enough, even turning to follow Penny's gaze back towards him in favor of offering him a wave. And even if he still cannot seem to shake the concern that seems all but determined to cling to him like a second skin, Pete would be a fool to pretend he does not recognize the steely glint of resolve that is so apparent in his daughter's eyes.
It is a glint he's seen himself at least a hundred times over when looking at his own reflection in the mirror. Penny was right about the similarities, not that he really doubted her to begin with.
The drive for independence—for handling things on her own, no matter the cost—that Casey exhibits in spades is at least in part due to his own influence. Something he isn't entirely sure he should be proud of, all things considered. But regardless of his own misgivings, he is also pointedly aware of another similarity he shares with Casey, whether he particularly cares to own up to such a thing or not.
No matter how he, or Penny, or anyone else may push for her to be forthcoming, if they go too far, the only thing they will succeed in is pushing their daughter farther away.
…
"You ready to go?"
"Absolutely," Casey consents, the eagerness behind the reply something that surprises her, given the uncertainty she'd felt about everything that has transpired between herself and Bradley thus far. Determined to avoid anything that will bring about a resurgence in the awkwardness that she, at least, had felt the previous evening, she seizes on the faint smile Bradley gives her with everything she has.
Something he appears more than willing to accept, himself, if the laugh he allows to escape in response to her next words is any sort of indication at all.
"You sure you're up for the insanity that is me, when I'm around ice cream?"
"Case, since when haven't I been up for that?"
"I dunno, Bradshaw. You are getting a little older. Maybe you're losing your touch."
"Losing my touch?" Bradley repeats, amusement apparent behind the words, just as much as it is visible with the way one corner of his mouth twitches as he tries to restrain a laugh, "You're insulting me now?"
"Age isn't technically an insult, unless you're sensitive about that sort of thing."
"Maybe I am."
"What can a girl do to redeem herself, then?" Casey muses, biting down on the flesh of her lower lip, because in spite of Bradley's obviously favorable reaction to her teasing, she is still more than a little hesitant to risk taking things too far, "Pay for your ice cream?"
"That's only gonna work if they have—"
"Bear Claw?"
"Damn straight," Bradley affirms, stepping to the side to allow Casey to slip out from behind the bar with one final wave to Penny along the way. Instinctively, his arm winds around her shoulders to pull her just a fraction of an inch closer, the fact that she does not move to pull away far more reassuring than he cares to admit. And even with Casey's perpetual need to remain on neutral ground—even with how Bradley knows Maverick has to be seeing this—he feels her sliding just a little bit closer as he begins to lead her to the door.
"So what happens if I can't buy the Bear Claw? You should probably have a secondary flavor option in mind, just in case."
"Aren't you a little worried that'll make it too easy?"
"Nope. Not at all," Casey states, bumping her elbow against Bradley's side, and savoring the laugh she is able to elicit from him in response, "And for the record, Gramps, I wasn't trying to insult you."
"Uh-huh."
"I wasn't!"
"Keep telling yourself that, Case."
"Maybe I will."
Casey is not blind to the way Bradley's arm seems to tighten about her shoulders as soon as the words escape. She doesn't miss the faint swoop in her chest that comes about as a result. In truth, this is the closest she's felt to normal since coming home. And even if she is still on uncertain ground, at least in her own mind, she would be a fool to pretend she is not grateful for the reprieve, minor though it may be.
That gratitude persists as she allows Bradley to lead her over to the Bronco he's had since the moment he learned how to drive. It steels her resolve when she feels the warmth of his palm on her back through the fabric of her shirt as he helps her into the passenger seat, and shuts the door behind her.
She watches as he moves around to the driver's side, and dons the pair of aviators that have been hanging from the collar of his shirt along the way. And even when her stomach swoops again as soon as he clambers inside the cab, and favors her with a lopsided grin, Casey forces herself to remember…
If they can still tease one another like this, despite everything, then maybe things between them are not as far gone as she initially believed.
…
By the time the Uber pulls up outside of The Hard Deck, and Evie Saunders steps out, the parking lot is nearly dark. A cool breeze is blowing in from the beach as she watches the driver pull away, and she shivers as goosebumps break out against her skin. She tries to ignore it, instead trying to cast her eyes around the lot in hopes of finding Casey's car, as she simultaneously hopes that her earlier than anticipated arrival will not end up being too bold. When the two of them spoke on the phone, her friend had made it clear she was more than welcome to stop in for a visit. That she could stay at Penny's just like she'd always done before.
In spite of the reassurances, though, and regardless of how much she may appreciate them, something about this time feels—different. Casey had even seemed a bit more reserved, though she'd done a fair job at trying to hide it on the phone.
As she considers that reality, Evie's teeth come to chew idly at her lower lip, and she hesitates before walking through the open doors resting nearby. She considers simply turning around, calling another Uber, and heading back for the airport before anyone even knows she arrived.
Before she has the chance, though, a shout from inside the bar catches her attention, followed by raucous laughter, and the ringing of a bell, and Evie allows that noise—the call of a distraction from her own thoughts, if nothing else—to pull her forward even if a small part of her still wants to turn away.
Ducking inside, her fingers tighten around the straps of her purse, instinct prompting her to make herself small enough to avoid drawing any attention her way. But of course she should have known such a small attempt at retreat was not going to work where either of her best friend's parents are concerned…
"Evie! Evie, is that you?"
"Hey, Mav," The blonde calls, managing a smile as best she can, while simultaneously threading her way through the crowd until she can stand at the bar at his side, "Casey didn't tell me you'd be around."
"To be fair, she uh—she kinda didn't know," Pete confesses, hopping down from the stool he'd been sitting on so that his daughter's friend can take his place, instead, "She know you were coming to town?"
"We talked the other day, but I—I might've decided to show up a day early. I hope that's okay."
"Well I'm not one to speak for Penny, but knowing how much she adores you, I'm gonna say it'll be no trouble at all."
"What's going to be no trouble?" Penny inquires, sending a curious glance Pete's way before her attention is grabbed by the suddenly sheepish blonde sitting at his side, "If it has anything to do with you, Ev, you already know what my answer is going to be."
"I—I do?"
"You should. Or have you forgotten how many times I've told you that the spare room is essentially yours?"
Aware of the obvious sincerity behind the words, Evie finds that she can do nothing but offer Penny a slight shake of the head in response, her teeth once again digging into her lower lip as she tries to fight back against the unexpected sting of tears. And, in an effort to prevent her friend's mom from picking up on anything that might even remotely hint at discomfort, she forces herself to swallow past her own lingering apprehension in favor of attempting to switch the topic of conversation as best she can.
"Is um—is Casey around?"
"Just missed her," Penny supplies, reaching for the rag stowed in the back pocket of her jeans to wipe at a stray smear of spilled beer before leaning against the counter across from where Evie is sitting, "She left with Rooster a while ago."
"Oh. I can—I mean, I can always see about finding a motel," Evie begins, wincing as soon as she realizes how ridiculous the remark must sound, given Penny's ready assurance that she already has a place to stay, "Sorry, I just—"
"The room is already yours, Ev. And before you even say it, you are not a burden, alright?"
"I—yeah. Thanks, Penny."
"Want me to send Casey a text? Let her know you're here?"
"No, I can just—if it's okay, I think I'll just hang here until she gets back."
"Only if you let Pete, here, buy you a drink."
The offer is something that Evie isn't entirely sure she should be accepting, particularly given her penchant for being a little too forthcoming once under the sway of alcohol, and the type of camaraderie and belonging she seems to crave now, more so than ever before. But regardless of her own apprehension, she is well aware that refusing will only increase the risk of suspicion. Particularly given how Penny is favoring her with a skeptical brow, as though already aware of how she has something worth keeping to herself.
With such a thought in mind, Evie forces herself to nod and smile, the soft laugh Pete gives from beside her far more reassuring than she truly deserves. Though it is difficult, she takes a steadying breath while Casey's father slides into a newly vacated stool at her side, she does what she can to accept the rum and coke Penny is sliding her way.
It is as good an indicator of the older woman's innate ability to know her, perhaps even better than she knows herself, as any Evie has ever seen. And even if she is still more than a little reluctant to give Penny a reason to harbor concern, it would be a lie for her to pretend she is anything short of grateful that such a thing exists at all.
…
Okay, then, there we have it! The fifth installment in Casey's tale! I know that I still haven't gotten our girl around to telling Bradley the truth (and I promise I'm not deliberately trying to drag this out! I'm just trying to set up all of the other pieces (mainly Evie, whose role will be revealed shortly as well) so they don't seem to come at us out of left field!) Hopefully as things progress, that will begin to make more sense? And as I said, the big reveal of what has rendered Casey so skittish will come into the light (sooner rather than later!)
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read, follow, favorite and review this story so far! And special thanks to ChiTown4ever for leaving such kind words of encouragement the last time around! I truly do appreciate all of the support, and I really hope everyone continues to enjoy where the story goes from here!
~permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88