Embrace the Grim Reaper by Judy Clemens

lips.
    “You did a good job in there.” Todd, the good-looking but lethargic banker, lounged against the side of the bench. “Done much acting?”
    “Thank you. Some.” She stopped pacing. “And you?”
    “Just here.” He gave a lazy smile, tipping his head back toward the theater. “Whenever they need a respectable-looking, non-teenager kind of guy they call me.”
    “Sure.”
    He pulled a water bottle from his jacket pocket and held it out to her. “Drink?”
    “Oh. Thanks.” She twisted open the top and took several swallows, thirstier than she’d realized.
    Todd opened a second one and took a few genteel sips. “You here because of Eric?”
    “Eric? Oh. Well, sort of.” It was true. If it hadn’t been for him, she most likely wouldn’t have agreed to do the part. In fact, she would’ve left the theater the night before after hearing the others perform, and Thomas wouldn’t have discovered her at the back of the room.
    “I hear you’re a fighter.”
    She glanced up.
    “Aaron and Jack. They told me about last night’s rehearsal.”
    “Oh, that.” She shrugged. “I’ve done some stage combat choreography.”
    He took another swallow, eying her over his bottle. Casey averted her gaze, squeezing her drink in her fist.
    “So where did Eric find you? Or are you one of his theater buddies from the good ol’ days in Louisville?”
    She looked back at him, wondering if she dared ask what those good old days consisted of. But Todd’s expression was shuttered.
    “I stopped in at Home Sweet Home.”
    “The charity supper? You were there?” His face went hard, and he drained his bottle before tossing it into the trashcan beside the bench.
    Casey itched to pluck the bottle out of the barrel and find the nearest recycling bin, but knew that wouldn’t make her any friends at the moment. “Is that a problem?”
    “No. Of course not. Why would it be? It’s a good place. A good thing.”
    The door opened and Becca stuck her head out. “Ready to get started again?”
    Todd took a quick breath through his nose and held out a hand toward the theater, his eyes focused somewhere just beyond Casey’s shoulder. “After you.”
    Casey screwed the lid back on her water bottle and walked past him, wondering why the mention of Home Sweet Home had made him break out into such a sweat that a bead of it was rolling down the side of his face.

Chapter Thirteen
    “So you survived.”
    Casey shook her head and swung her leg over her bike, ready to head back to The Nesting Place, since rehearsal was over. “Barely. And you didn’t help.”
    “Me?” Eric placed his hands over his chest, his eyes wide with innocence. “What did I do?”
    Casey gave him a light punch to the shoulder. “Telling Holly she was beginning to get the hang of it was hardly beneficial.”
    He grinned. “What? You suggest I give her criticism? You think she would listen?”
    “No. I guess not.”
    “Besides, Thomas would kill me.”
    “He’s that protective?”
    “Of his position as director. Not of Holly.”
    Casey looked back toward the theater, not wanting to be overheard. “You sure about that? He was looking at her pretty possessively. Although I did notice he was wearing a wedding ring.”
    Eric snorted. “Like that matters to him.”
    Casey crossed her arms over her chest, her feet flat on the ground, balancing the bike under her. “Okay. Spill. You have to tell me what the deal is with you and Thomas.”
    “Oh. I have to, do I?”
    A quick glance showed Casey he wasn’t angry. But he suddenly looked tired.
    “Come on,” she said. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”
    “Eric!” Leila came skipping out of the theater. “You said we could go out for a drink, remember?”
    “Not tonight, Leila, okay? Another time.”
    Leila looked at Casey, her feelings evident on her face. “Fine. Another time.”
    With a huff she swung her hair off of her shoulders and stomped to the green VW Bug across the street. Eric didn’t