by Tina Susedik
Hogan’s stomach flipped and hit him in his Adam’s apple. His ideas of what type of woman would greet him tonight didn’t come anywhere close to the vision before him. No carrot-covered sweatshirt. No yellow slippers. No snug-fitting jeans.
Tonight she wore an above-the-knee, midnight-blue, long-sleeved dress. The scooped neckline exposed her upper chest, making him wonder what was underneath. The dress was of a shimmering material that, while not overly tight, showed off her sensuous figure.
Ankle-strapped black heels brought her much closer to his 6’1” height. A black necklace bearing a dress-matching stone in the middle hung enticingly close to her breasts. A pair of small matching earrings complemented her upswept hairstyle. A few curly tendrils left free made his fingers itch to tug one and see if would spring back into place.
“Hogan? Would you like to come in or do we have to rush right off?”
Hogan thought her voice sounded more melodious tonight, more sophisticated like the clothing she wore.
Cassie opened the door wider. “Hogan? Are you all right?”
Mentally shaking himself, he stepped across the threshold, trying to get a handle on his raging hormones. Would kissing her senseless right now be considered rushing things? He took her hands and looked into eyes a shade lighter than her dress.
“You look fantastic, Cassie. I’ll be the envy of everyone at Hans’ tonight.”
Cassie smiled at him, pleasure rippling through her. “Hans’? Am I overdressed?”
“Believe me, Cassie, you’ll fit right in. Hans’ is one place you can still go dressed to the nines without worrying about mingling with people wearing jeans. If you’ve never been there, I’m sure you’ll enjoy every minute of it.” He held her coat for her. “Now, m’lady, if you’re ready, the coach awaits.”
“Oh shoot, I left my purse upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
Hogan brought his mind from the view of her long, shapely legs retreating upstairs. Time was short, and this was his chance to do some searching. Once she was out of view, Hogan went to her secretary-style desk, which, if he wasn’t mistaken, was from the late 1700s.
The opened, top cupboard doors revealed several drawers and slots for correspondence. The desk part was down. He took a pen from his shirt pocket and, keeping an ear out for her footsteps, opened drawers, lifted papers looking for any signs of contact with her ex. He wished for more time to open the large drawers on the bottom, or go through her phone bills.
He turned and put the pen back in his pocket when he heard the click of heels on the stairs. Somehow he’d have to come back and search further.
Cassie smiled as she slipped her arms into the coat he held for her again. She didn’t remember ever feeling this pretty and sexy. Spending Saturday afternoon at the mall searching for the perfect dress, then having a manicure to fix her chipped nails, had been worth the hunger on Hogan’s face. She almost fell into the temptation to have her hair done when she’d passed by a beauty shop on her way home from the mall, but decided that was a bit too much. Evidently, by the way Hogan’s eyes glowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, she’d done all right by herself.
Goosebumps ran down her arms when Hogan rested his hands on her shoulders.
“Cold?” he whispered into her ear, his deep voice doing nothing to get rid of the bumps. Comparing his warm breath against her ear to Richard’s was like comparing a mouse to an elephant.
Cassie lifted the collar up to her chin. “No, just anticipating a wonderful evening.”
Hogan turned her around to face him. She didn’t mistake the way his eyes turned soft and sensuous. Her breath caught as she considered the ramifications. “Uh, I think we’d better get going, or we’ll be late.”
The plush, warm ambiance of the restaurant impressed Cassie. “A far cry from McDonalds,” she commented as the maitre d’ showed them to their place. Rather than the ordinary table arrangements, they were shown to a booth. High-backed cushioned seats surrounded a round table on three sides, giving diners privacy. Strategically placed candles on the tables throughout the restaurant gave it a romantic glow. Cassie was pleased to see Hogan had been right about her not being overdressed. It was a pleasure to see other couples dressed up.
Once seated, and wine ordered, they perused their menus in silence. Cassie tried to hide a threatening gulp. No prices listed meant . . . expensive. How could a salesman afford to come to a place like this? Was he using a bonus from a successful trip to impress her?
“Have you been here before?” she asked.
Hogan peered at her over his menu. “A few times. The food is excellent.”
“What do you recommend?”
“I’ve have never had a bad meal here.” He smiled at Cassie and seemed to read her mind. “Don’t worry about the prices, just order what you want.” Reaching over to touch the back of her hand, he added, “I want this to be a special night.”
“Good evening, Mr. Wynnters.” A tall, thin man with a dark mustache and beard appeared. “It’s good to see you again. We’ve missed your presence,” he added in a German accent.
Cassie raised an eyebrow at Hogan.
“Okay, so I’ve been here more than a few times,” he answered her silent question and turned to the man. “Good evening, Hans. I’d like to introduce you to Cassie Jordan. Cassie, this is Hans, owner of this fine establishment.” Hogan smiled at Hans. “I’ve been out of the country on business, and I can tell you, I’ve missed your fine food. No one prepares a steak like you.”
Hans puffed out his narrow chest. “Thank you, sir. We do our best. Now, if you are ready to order, I will call your waiter.” At Hogan’s nod, Hans snapped his fingers and another man rushed to their table. “I hope you enjoy your evening.”
Cassie’s impression of the restaurant rose another notch when Hans bowed to both of them before leaving to visit other patrons. Their waiter stood patiently while she tried to make up her mind and finally settled on the house specialty of roast beef, red cabbage, and spaetzle, a favorite German noodle her grandmother used to make.
While Hogan ordered, she found an opportunity to appraise him. He took her breath away. His dark brown suit set off his eyes, which tonight reminded her of coffee rather than chocolate, or maybe coffee with chocolate added. Instead of a standard dress shirt with tie, he wore a cream banded-collar shirt, making her think of the way men dressed in the west during the 1800’s. With his dark hair curling over his left eye, Cassie imagined him as a cowboy or Wild West gambler. She mentally sighed. She’d always had a soft spot for western men.
As he ordered his meal, he pushed up his glasses, making him appear boyish. But there certainly wasn’t anything boyish about him. That, combined with a sense of roguishness, sent her pulses racing.
“Enjoying what you see?”
Heat rose to Cassie’s face.
Hogan took her hand. “It’s all right, Cassie. I’m certainly enjoying the scenery.”
“Grandma used to say it’s not what’s on the outside that counts, but the inside. I think she was trying to make me feel better.”
“Even though I agree with your grandmother, I’m not sure that applies here.”
Could she put her foot further into her mouth? “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m happy to say I like what I’ve seen on the inside as well as the outside.”
“Why thank you, kind and gracious lady. Your comments make me feel so much better.” Hogan kissed the back of her hand. “Now tell me what you meant about your grandmother saying things to make you feel better.”
She slipped her hand from his and tried to think of a way to avoid a painful subject. “Did you say you were in Japan? Tell me about your trip? Why were you overseas? Did you go anywhere else?”
Hogan wanted to know why she avoided his question, but decided not to pursue it now. He needed
to learn more about her past, but tonight was to be about them, not the case.
During their bowls of French onion soup and bread, he talked about his trip, careful to leave out any details of why he was actually overseas. Pleasure rippled through him at her response to his story about the tray in the hotel room and Monsieur Thomas’ daughter.
He hadn’t realized until tonight how nice it was to tell another person, one not involved in the business, about his job. Being part of the family business meant he couldn’t confide in the employees. His father was the only one who knew about his connections with the FBI.
Over their salads he told her more about his trip, making sure he only talked about the business. She commiserated when he talked about his trials in traveling, including late flights, hurricanes, language barriers, and time changes.
“So that’s why your watch was wrong when we went to the zoo.”
“No, that’s why I have several different watches. I simply need to make sure I put on the right one.”
Her laughter sent tremors through his body. It had so many qualities to it. Shy when he complimented her. Girlish when he was being silly. Joy when she appreciated his humor or attempts at it. So far the evening was more than he’d hoped for. His worries about how they would get along without three children as chaperones dissipated.
A comfortable silence settled around them while the waiter took away empty salad plates and set their main courses before them, along with fresh, hot bread, and a variety of condiments to accent their meals. Hogan was about to cut into his steak when he noticed Cassie finger a bottle of steak sauce the waiter had left on the table.
“Do you put steak sauce on roast beef?” he asked.
Cassie gave him a small smile. “No. It’s just . . .”
“What? You can tell me.”
“When I was little my parents would make steak on Saturday nights after Bess and I went to bed. I’d lie under my blankets feeling warm and secure, listening to the hum of their voices, smelling the cooking meat. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I’d sneak down into the kitchen and watch. My father always knew I was there because suddenly he would grab me and set me on his lap.”
“What then?” Hogan asked when Cassie paused obviously reliving pleasant memories.
“Dad would cut small pieces of steak and feed me.” She fiddled with her napkin. “One of the things he loved on his meat was steak sauce, but he’d never let Bess and I have any. He said it would grow hair on our chests, and he didn’t want any of his daughters looking like orangutans. The funny thing is, for as much steak sauce as that man used, I seem to remember he had the barest chest of any man I’ve ever seen. Redheads don’t have hairy bodies.”
Hogan pointed at her chest with his fork. “I, for one, am glad he wouldn’t allow his daughters to have steak sauce. I can’t imagine hair all over your lovely chest.” Her chest turn pink, the blush rising to her neck, then her face. The sight caused his body to perk up and take notice.
He turned his attention to slathering butter and sour cream on his baked potato, much like he would like to slather his tongue over her bare breasts. He wondered if they also blushed when she was embarrassed. He adjusted his napkin on his lap as he grew hard. Luckily Cassie wouldn’t see his discomfort beneath the tablecloth. Painfully, he ignored his crotch and went back to her story.
“Anyway, after he died when I was twelve, we moved in with my mother’s parents for a short time,” Cassie continued as she sliced her roast. “I don’t know, it must have been a man thing or something because my grandpa wouldn’t let us girls have steak sauce, either.”
It shook Hogan to hear her father had left when she was so young. Girls needed a father until they were . . . well, until they were old and gray. If he ever had a daughter, or son for that matter, he planned on sticking around forever. Hogan gave Cassie an encouraging smile.
“Go ahead, have some. I don’t think you’ll start growing hair on your chest at this point in time.”
Cassie laughed and picked up the bottle. “I can still hear the smack of the bottle hitting the palm of Dad’s hand when he shook up the steak sauce.” She picked up the bottle and jerked it upward.
Hogan grinned at the anticipation on Cassie’s face when she slapped the bottle against her palm. Then everything seemed to move in slow motion. The cap flew off and landed in his glass, splashing wine on his shirt. The tangy scent of steak sauce hit him square in the face—along with some of the sauce. His shirt was streaked brown. It took a moment to realize Cassie had fared worse.
“Oh God, no. No. No. No,” she whimpered.
It was a replay of the carrot incident. Steak sauce was everywhere. It ran down her face and dripped from her hair onto her chest. The right sleeve of her dress had a stripe running down the center. Bands of sauce covered the back of her seat. From exclamations coming from the people seated on the other side of the booth, the sauce had evidently sailed over the top.
Cassie clapped her hands over her mouth when Hogan peered through the mess on his glasses. “I. Am. So. Sorry. I’ve done it to you again.” She took her napkin and reached to wipe off his face. He took her wrist.
“It’s all right, Cassie. It wasn’t your fault. The cap wasn’t on tight.” Cross-eyed, he attempted to see his nose, stuck his tongue out, licked his lips, and took off his glasses. “Mmmm. I do believe, ma’am, that had you eaten this stuff as a child, your gorgeous chest would be covered with a thick matt of red hair.”
He bit back a chuckle, but laughter built inside him, like the bubbles in his wineglass. The laugh was nearly at his throat. He needed to gain control before he laughed out loud and embarrassed Cassie further.
Cassie covered her mouth with a napkin as Hans skittered around tables to their booth. Several waiters rushed in his wake. At her watery eyes, Hogan wanted to leave before she burst into tears. Customers paused in their eating to watch the calamity. The situation certainly wasn’t anything to laugh about, but, lordy, that’s what he wanted to do. Not only did she make a mess of herself, but others, too.
“Mr. Wynnters, ma’am, what happened?” With a flick of his wrist, Hans had waiters whisking away dishes.
Hogan cleaned his glasses on his napkin. “Miss Jordan was shaking the bottle of steak sauce. Evidently the lid wasn’t secure.” He swept his hand over the table. “This is the result.”
Hans’ face paled. Hogan thought he might pass out from mortification as he bowed several times and apologized. “Mr. Wynnters. Miss Jordan. I’m so terribly sorry. I will punish the person who didn’t do his job correctly. Please accept my apologies and be assured your dinners tonight will be on the house.”
Cassie wiped at the stains on her dress. “Hans, please don’t punish anyone. It was a simple mistake. Promise me you won’t fire anyone.”
With a thin smile, Hans bowed to her again. “As you wish.” He looked more closely at her dress and Hogan’s suit. “Please be sure to send us the cleaning bill. Now if you will allow us to clean up your table, we will serve you a new meal.”
Cassie’s eyes became shiny. Hogan needed to get her home before they turned into a full-fledged shower. “I have a better idea, Hans. I believe I should get Miss Jordan home so she can change. I’d hate to waste such excellent food. Would you please just wrap it up? That way we can re-heat everything and still enjoy a delicious meal.” He turned to Cassie. “Does that meet with your approval?”
At her nod, Hans had his waiters clear away the dishes. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll have someone bring towels to the restrooms. By the time you’re done, your food should be ready.”
On his way to the men’s room, Hogan could have sworn he saw Cassie’s ex and another suspect from the case, sitting in a nearby booth. Was the man following her?
True to his word, Hans had their meals ready by the time Cassie emerged from the ladies’ roo
m. Even with wiping off as much as she could, her dress was stained and strands of her hair were matted together. Hogan was waiting for her, his face and glasses clean, brown marks showing on his suit jacket and shirt.
“Looks like you got enough off your dress so your coat won’t get ruined,” he commented as he held her coat open for her.
Hans handed them their food, which, Cassie was happy to see, was wrapped in special re-heatable containers. A new bottle of wine was included.
“Again, I am so terribly sorry for this unfortunate accident. Make sure you send us your cleaning bills. I hope this won’t keep you from joining us again.”
Hogan placed a hand on Hans’ shoulder. “Don’t worry, Hans. We’ll be back. We’ll just make sure all lids are securely tightened. Right, Cassie?”
She smiled, happy the giggles threatening to erupt earlier had subsided while she was in the bathroom. “Yes. I’m sure we’ll enjoy our meals later tonight. Goodnight, Hans.”
Cassie let Hogan take her hand as they wound their way around tables, ignoring words of sympathy and a few nasty comments about people drinking too much and ruining the evening for other diners. Much to Cassie’s relief, most went back to their own meals and didn’t pay any attention.
As they reached the door, she caught a quick view of her ex and another man. The second man was familiar, but with only a view of his back, she couldn’t be sure. Tony gave her a quick glance, grabbed the man’s elbow, and moved from her sight.
By the time they got in the car, Cassie had removed her ex from her mind. Even with the fiasco inside, she didn’t want him to ruin her evening. She buckled up and dropped her head against the headrest. Giggles bounced around somewhere between her stomach and throat. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to help her insides calm down.
