Some of her happiest memories revolved around spending time with Samson and his brother. They’d both played for the Divine Vikings varsity football team, and she’d played the clarinet in the Vikings marching band. Whether it was a sports- or school-related activity, lunchtime, or in classes, it didn’t matter. She’d always felt centered when they were around.
She was slightly above average in height at five eight, and Ivan and his brother were both over six feet tall, and she frankly loved the way it felt to be next to a man she could look up to, even in heels.
He stroked up and down in a light caress from her hip to her lower ribs, and she inhaled softly at the tug deep within her core, responding to his touch.
“I’m glad you and Samson were able to reconnect over the last few weeks.”
She snorted and shook her head. “It was a little bumpy, but I’m glad, too. He still has a tendency to speak his mind.”
Ivan grinned, and his chest rumbled as he chuckled. Her nipples took notice as she brushed against him in the dance. His hand slid farther around her waist and caressed up and down her spine and a wave a goose bumps flickered over her skin.
Back years ago, he’d never held her like this when they’d shared a dance, and she had to catch her breath at the way her body responded to him. She was an adult, after all, and he was all man. It was a normal physiological reaction. He’d probably be shocked if he knew she was getting wet.
She looked around wondering if anyone else was watching or noticing her rather tight nipples through the silky knit of her dress, but everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations. She caught a glimpse of Samson at the table with their friends, talking and laughing, and then he snared her gaze and smiled at her. At them.
“You okay?” Ivan asked softly, his lips so kissable and full, and only inches from hers. She nodded and looked over at their table again.
Grace was there with Jack, who was also a member of their graduating class. Ethan and Adam were likely at home or at work but no doubt looking forward to her return. Lydia was there, sitting between Chance and Clayton, laughing with Veronica Stinson, who was there with her men, Hank and Travis. These weren’t strangers to her. They were friends with histories and commitments to their ménages.
Oh boy.
If she’d met Samson and Ivan in a different time or under other circumstances that could’ve been them. She was hit again by regret that she’d ever let them go from her life, which was quickly replaced by guilt. For Joseph’s and Tamara’s sake, she couldn’t wish things were different.
“Cassie?” Ivan murmured with concern evident in his voice. “Want me to take you back to the table?”
Turning her attention back to him, she shook her head. “No. Just got distracted. I’m having a good time. I was wondering how my kids are doing.”
“Miss them?”
She nodded and then shrugged. “I’m still adjusting to them being on their own.”
“Think they might come back to Divine when they’re done with school?”
“Joseph loves Divine, so he might,” she said with a smile, “but I want him to follow his heart. Tamara is still undecided. For a while she wanted to be a massage therapist, but then she decided to enroll at Texas State. I want her to have options. There will always be a place for her here. Tell me about your work.”
He told her about the restaurant and its eccentric owner, and she loved listening to him go on about his kitchen and his staff.
“It sounds wonderful. I can just see you in your chef’s uniform with your hat and a big wooden spoon in your hand, everyone scurrying around you yelling, “Yes, Chef!” while you rule the roost from your enormous Viking stove.”
He shrugged self-effacingly and said, “It’s probably pretty mundane to most people.”
Not to someone who’s envisioning you in your underwear in front of that stove, handsome. She inhaled sharply and choked on her own spit, and he patted her back. Where had that come from? Violet and her lumberjack fantasies must be influencing her—that or it was a rush of hormones. Totally blaming the hormones. And the image of him in his briefs and chef’s hat, making me crepes!
A wave of heat washed over her, made even more intense by the crowd of people on the dance floor. Now was an awesome time for a hot flash. Simply awesome. “Maybe I’d better go get something cool to drink,” she said as she fanned herself.
“You’re a little flushed, honey. Is it a hot flash?”
She blinked and then nodded. “You know about those?”
He chuckled as he handed her his folded handkerchief and guided her back toward the table. “I’m a man of the new millennium, sweetheart. Can I get you a bottle of water or a Sprite?”
She fanned her cheeks and considered asking for a fire extinguisher. “Anything cold and non-alcoholic would be fantastic, if you don’t mind. The alcohol makes the flushing worse. They come out of nowhere just to remind me I’m past my prime.”
Why did I say that? How pathetic I must sound.
Ivan halted halfway back to the table, away from the crowd, and tipped her chin up as he gazed at her. “Past your prime? I wonder what Samson would say if he knew you felt that way.”
“But you won’t tell him, will you?”
Ivan shrugged noncommittally and gently squeezed her upper arms. “You’re not past your prime. This is your renaissance, gorgeous. It’s your time. And ours.”
With that, he guided her back to the table, his words echoing in her head. Ours. Ours. Ours.
Ours, who?
Did he mean his and Samson’s? Or his, Samson’s…and hers?
* * * *
“You okay, Cassandra?” Samson asked when Ivan escorted her back to their table and helped her into a chair.
She smiled and fanned herself as she sipped from a glass of ice water. “I just got thirsty and needed to catch my breath.”
The crowd had packed the place, and he nodded as he looked around. He wanted to get her out of there so they could talk to her, but he didn’t want her to miss out on seeing their friends, like Andrew Portman, who’d flown out especially for the reunion from Orlando, Florida. Andrew had explained his wingman status while she’d been on the dance floor, and Samson hadn’t been surprised she’d stood with him when his ex-wife had arrived earlier. He also felt a little guilty she’d borne the brunt of Dorene’s ugliness without them there.
Lydia returned from the buffet line with plates laden with slices of cake, and she grinned at Cassie. “I can tell this is yours, Cassie. One of these days I’m going to convince you to tell me what your secret is.”
Cassie’s eyes sparkled at the compliment. “Thanks! Come over sometime and I’ll show you. I’m making the cake for Violet’s wedding on Saturday.”
Samson caught Ivan’s glance and frowned. “You’re busy next weekend?”
Cassandra nodded. “I stay pretty busy in the fall. But the wedding is in the early afternoon, so I should be free for the evening.” She sipped her drink, and then her gaze fluttered to his before looking away.
“Will you save that evening for us?”
“I will,” she replied, her eyes twinkling as she took another sip of her ice water.
“Ivan,” Lydia called from across the big square table. “You look familiar to me, but I’m not sure from where.”
Samson took a swig from his drink, remembering what Chance and Clayton had told him she did for a living. “You’re a chef, aren’t you, Lydia?”
Lydia nodded and then gasped and pointed to Ivan. “Chef!”
“Austin?” Ivan said with laughter in his voice, and she nodded and trotted around the table to him. “It’s a small world, isn’t it?” he said as he rose from his chair and hugged her back.
“I didn’t recognize you with shorter hair,” she said. “Are you still teaching?”
Ivan shook his head. “No, I wanted to get back to running a kitchen fulltime, or at least I thought I did.” He rubbed his knee, and Samson’s knee gave a sympathy twinge.
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That was the first he’d heard of Ivan wanting out of the fast pace of fulltime restaurant work.
Cassandra excused herself to visit the ladies’ room, and after the conversation had moved on to other topics, Samson nudged Ivan with an elbow. “You’d consider retiring?”
Ivan leaned toward him. “Not completely, but the hours are getting old, and so is my knee.” He looked to see if Cassandra was near and added, “So is going home to a dark, empty house.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I wouldn’t consider it, except my investments are doing well. It’s a good thing Mom and Dad taught us how to manage money and not go into debt, considering the way things are nowadays.”
“Thank God. Things are good with me, too, though I don’t squeak when I walk like you do.”
“I’m not tight. I’m frugal,” Ivan said with a chuckle. “Why did you ask about me retiring? Not you too?” His brother’s expression was incredulous.
“I know. It’d drive me crazy to not have work, but the stress of the job and this knee…”
Ivan grinned. “We should rent an operating room and have a surgeon do knee replacements for both of us and get it over with together. Are you thinking of going part time?”
Samson sighed. “I don’t know. You just got me thinking.”
“Cassie looks as if she’s having a good time,” Ivan said as he cast another glance around, probably looking for her.
Samson could relate. “I enjoy watching her have fun.”
“Me, too.”
A few minutes later, a gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, and her delicate scent invaded his senses again as she said, “Grace and Jack are talking about heading over to the Dancing Pony in a little while, and I wondered if you’d like to go over there after we’re done here. Hank said he might head over with Travis and Veronica later as well, after his duties as senior class president are completed.”
Ivan got up and gave her his chair so she could sit between them. She smiled and sat down, her cheeks flushing a little at the way they angled their chairs toward her.
Samson said, “Is that what you’d like to do? Do you have to work in the morning?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m old school. Divine Drip is closed on Sundays so my employees can go to church and have time with their families. And I need a day off, too. One day a week people can make their own coffee.”
Ivan caught his attention and flared his eyes in a purely hopeful way, and Samson smiled. “We’d take you to the Dancing Pony, as long as it doesn’t mess up your schedule.”
“It won’t,” she murmured as she gazed at him with a merry sparkle shining in her eyes. “Can I have this dance?” She gestured toward the floor with her head, and then giggled when he heard what was playing. “Back in Black” by AC/DC.
And they say I’m a sadist.
Ivan laughed and turned to converse with Chance, Clayton, and Lydia while Samson escorted Cassandra to the dance floor since she was dying to dance.
“Wasn’t this one of your favorites?” she called, lifting her arms into the air as she swung her hips to the beat, throwing a grin at Grace as she and Jack joined them on the dance floor. Samson was impressed by how willing Cassie was to shake her tail feathers and hoped his knee could keep up.
She giggled as he played a couple of chords of air guitar but then threw it over his shoulder and pulled her close. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes sparkled with merriment as she shouted over the loud music. “I hope the next one is a slower song. This is gonna kill me, but it’s so fun!”
He ignored the twinge in his knee for a bit longer, watching her move to the music and got caught up in it himself. She paced herself and made it through the whole song with classic rock style, and then Ivan breezed past him as the beat of the next song began and said, “I’ve got this one, old man.”
“Old man? Look who’s talkin’!” he shouted. He laughed and limped back to the table so he could watch her as he recognized another classic tune. “Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’” by Journey—and then he remembered what a big Journey fan she was and how much she loooved this song.
“Damn,” someone off in the crowd said, and he wondered possessively if they were looking at Cassandra.
Jack had evidently picked up some dirty dancing moves from his cousin Ethan because he pulled Grace up against him so she straddled his thigh. He had a good tight grip on her hips as she ground against him. The man looked as though he was feeling like a king. He slid his hands up into her hair and pulled her close so she was nearly lip-to-lip with him.
Cassie was having a similar effect on Ivan, judging by the big shit-eating grin on his brother’s face as he held her backside to his front and then gripped her hands so she could grind and shimmy against him, rolling her hips with the sinuous beat of the song. The confident smile on her face and the way she arched her back made his dick sit up and take notice, especially when he caught a glimpse of her hardened nipples through the silky material of her dress.
The crowd was cheering for the dancers and entirely too many men were ogling his woman, but at least she had Ivan out there with her. It was clear by the sparkle in her eyes and the way she bit her lip that she was having a damn good time.
Several other ladies joined them, including Lydia and Veronica, until the floor was crowded mostly with women, and the energy in the room shifted and the party finally got into full swing.
He grinned when he glanced across the room and noticed Bill Resendez frowning at his ex-wife, his really hot ex-wife, while clutching the wrist of the young woman he’d brought with him. She tugged her arm, obviously wanting to join the ladies on the dance floor, and he wouldn’t allow it. The frown on Bill’s face made his jowls sag, reminding Samson of his old man.
Samson turned his attention back to lovely Cassandra and ignored the tingle in his groin as he watched her have fun with his brother.
Would she be game for other fun? Samson imagined her visiting Hazelle House with him one evening. She knew Bunny and Joseph and some of the others, so maybe she might take a chance and visit the BDSM club. Whether she’d be into what he enjoyed was another question. And there was Ivan to consider. Judging by her expression, she was enjoying being so close to him. But Ivan had made it clear in the past that he had no interest in Samson’s extracurricular activities.
First things first.
He could live without tying her up. He was sure he couldn’t walk away from her again.
Chapter Six
As the door swung closed on the eighties rock blaring from inside the Elks Lodge, Ivan held out his hand for her keys and said, “Where’s your car? I’ll drive you over, and Samson can follow in his truck. He and I rode over here from Morehead together.”
Cassie gave him the keys. “Okay.”
Once in the car, he moved the seat back, and she fiddled with the radio, finding a country station and turning it down low. The lingering scent of vanilla bean and buttercream filled the interior of the small sport utility vehicle, reminding him that, besides her coffee shop, she also specialized in wedding cakes. The SUV must double as her delivery vehicle.
Ivan said, “You’re really okay with going to the nightclub? I would imagine you had a long day today.”
Cassie shrugged. “I’m a night owl, no matter what time I have to get out of bed. I’d like to go…unless you’re tired.”
“Me? Nah, I’m fine.” His knees had loosened up a little, and so far he was holding his own on the dance floor, as long as he didn’t push it too much. “But I also haven’t been up as long as you. I know your place opens for the early morning crowd.” Her only reply was a shrug as he started her engine.
“I love it too much to complain. I’ll take a nap tomorrow to make up the lost sleep.” She gave him directions to the Dancing Pony nightclub, and he pulled out of the parking lot.
Ivan glanced at her, illuminated by the dashboard lights. “You enjoy taking care of people, feeding them and such?”
&nbs
p; She grinned at him and nodded. “I love it. You get it, don’t you, Ivan? You’re lord and master of your domain, but that’s basically what you’re doing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, sort of. When I’m not at Hermione Jones’s beck and call.”
Cassie snickered. “Hermione? Your boss’s name is Hermione?” She popped an eyebrow and said, “As an executive chef, you probably have a wide range of spices you use in your recipes. You know the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane, right?”
Without missing a beat, Ivan shrugged. “There is no difference. They’re the same thing.”
Cassie’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “I so totally took you for a Muggle!”
Ivan rumbled with laughter. “Call it a guilty pleasure. I’m a big-time Potterhead.”
With laughter in her voice, Cassie replied, “Tamara and Joseph still haven’t grown out of their Harry Potter phase, and they managed to get me on board, too.”
“Hermione from time to time gets a little…shall we say testy. And it’s everything I can do not to purse my lips and say in my best Professor Snape voice, “Control your emotions!”
“Is she demanding? Her place is a little above my pay grade so I’ve never been in there.”
“Nah. The key is flexibility. When she wants to change the menu up, she means that day, not next week or next month. But I don’t mind. It keeps me on my toes, and she pays me well to be adaptable.”
“I think it’s sad we were so close for so long and then never got back in touch.” Her voice was soft with regret. “I wish I’d been stronger…had stood up to my father better.”
“Honey, no one stood up to your dad, and you were raised to obey. I should’ve…”
Ivan’s drumming fingers stilled on the steering wheel as the memory of Homecoming their senior year of high school came to him. The crisp fall wind had done nothing to dry the cold sweat breaking out over him, and the pain in his knee had paled in comparison to watching Cassie deal with her infuriated father on her own. Jorge Villalobos had lambasted her in the crowded concourse in between the concession and ticket stands and the concrete ramps leading up into the football stadium seating.
How Cassie Got Her Grind Back [Divine Creek Ranch 23] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 7
