by Jo Leigh
He closed his eyes and jerked himself out of the grip of Wayne and Greg. When he turned his back on her, he teetered. Greg went to help, but Tommy slapped his arm away. To utter silence, her brother walked between tables, away from her. He didn’t move his head, and what was worse, the folks sitting down, longtime regulars and newcomers alike, avoided looking at him.
Her heart felt as if it were breaking into tiny pieces. Maybe it was all her fault. She treated him like an invalid, and that was what he’d become. If she’d been stronger...
“Come on,” Lisa said, making Cassie jump. “Let’s get back to work. We have orders to fill.”
With as much dignity as she could muster, she followed Lisa, making an effort to meet people’s eyes, to smile, even though she had to blink back tears.
Once she was by the sink, she picked up the towel John had thrown. It killed her that Tommy had gone to the pool room. The old Tommy would have set aside his pride and taken care of business. Not even considering that he’d ignored her, he shouldn’t have turned his back on the bar or his customers.
The anger she’d felt for days, hell, for weeks, came surging up again, but she tamped it down as she looked at the first person who caught her attention. “Need a refill on that gin and tonic?”
It was as if she’d pressed the start button. Bless them, the bikers, the mechanics, the folks from the hospital, all the people who’d become more than customers, started talking. Loudly. Filling the room with sound helped, and for once she was grateful that one of the boys fed a handful of quarters to the jukebox.
“Hey. You.” Lisa popped up again. Right next to her.
“Quit doing that.”
“I really didn’t bring you back here to work. Go get your damn textbook and get out of here.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes,” Lisa said, folding her arms over her chest. “You can. And you will. Tommy brought this on himself. He’s gonna have to figure a way out of it. By himself.”
Cassie opened her mouth to protest, but Lisa’s eyes were like flint.
“He needs to fix this, Cass. Go home. Study. And when you see that man of yours, you give him a big sloppy kiss for me. I swear,” she said, swiping her forehead with the back of her hand, “I nearly swooned when he stood up for you like that.”
“I could have handled it,” Cassie said.
Lisa’s mouth dropped open a bit. “You stubborn... Yeah, you could have. The point is, you didn’t have to. Because you had someone on your side for a change.”
“It’s not like that—”
“I give up on the both of you. Go home, Cassie. I’ve got the bar, and if I have to kick your brother’s butt all the way across the building, I will.”
Cassie didn’t doubt her. About Tommy. What she’d said about John? That, she’d have to think about.
* * *
JOHN CHECKED HIS WATCH again, wishing he’d brought something to drink with him. He shifted on the step that led up to Cassie’s front door, waiting as the warm night ticked away.
She’d probably stay at the bar to finish out the shift. Tommy was too drunk to work, and besides, after that display, the idiot had probably walked out. Leaving his sister to hold down the fort. Again.
John’s anger rose once more, as it had ever since he’d honored Cassie’s wishes and taken his leave. It had been incredibly difficult. He wasn’t in the habit of walking out on such an unstable scene, and especially abandoning the woman he’d come to like so much.
John got to his feet and started pacing. Again. He didn’t care if she did stay till closing, he wasn’t going anywhere until he saw for himself that Cassie was doing okay. And he needed to tell her that he was sorry. He should have left the first time she asked him to.
She’d done what was necessary for the bar and for herself. She’d even done him a favor. Getting into a physical altercation with her brother would have cost everyone.
He’d known right away that Cassie was smart. She reminded him of the best pilots. Steady as a rock, aware of all the contingencies and she didn’t get thrown by surprises. He smiled thinking about her at the party. Maybe she hadn’t been dressed like the officers’ wives he’d grown used to, but she’d been classy as hell in her own way.
Besides, who said things had to stay the same? Maybe during his mother’s generation, the officers’ wives were expected to dress a certain way, be willing to socialize with the right people at a moment’s notice. But now, his friends’ wives were far more independent. Although, they all kind of hung around with each other, didn’t they?
But the basic principal was to maintain a level of conduct that honored the fundamental values of serving one’s country. He had no argument with that. The fact that he was an officer of the U.S. Air Force was never far from his mind, even when he was waffling about his future. He’d be proud to take Cassie to any event. In fact, he’d like to see her all dressed up. She’d be a knockout.
A car came down the street, the first one in a while, but it wasn’t Cassie’s old clunker. John sat down on the step again, checked the time. He could call her, just check in, but that might not be the best move. She could be having it out with Tommy, and he wouldn’t want to intrude.
On the other hand, maybe she needed a distraction, an excuse to leave? If for nothing else, her studies. Even if she’d been hitting the books since the moment he’d left, the emotional hangover from that scene was going to play havoc with her retention. He knew.
After Danny had died, he’d been a wreck. So had Sam. They’d done their jobs because they’d been trained to the nth degree, but neither one of them had slept worth a damn for months. Getting behind the stick again had been painful. Muscle memory and hundreds of hours of repetition had kept them on course. It was downtime that had sent them spinning.
He and Sam had talked about it. As much as they could, but neither one of them were particularly good at verbalizing their feelings or whatever.
Anyway, he knew Cassie wasn’t going to sail through her test. Maybe, if she came home anytime soon, he could—
Another car. This one needed some muffler work. He stood, and sure enough, there couldn’t be another Ford like that on this block.
He ran his hands down his jeans and waited until she pulled into the drive. She must have seen his car before she’d seen him standing on the front step.
She turned off the car, and the engine got the message after she was halfway to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” She slowly made her way to his side, her key in her left hand, her books in her right and her purse over her shoulder. He slipped the books from her grip. “Honest. I’m fine. I’m sorry about what happened. He had too much to drink and—”
“Hey, I’m the one that owes you an apology. I should have kept my big mouth shut.”
She looked up at him as if to respond, then just shook her head and opened the door.
“May I come in?” he asked, waiting until she’d crossed the threshold.
She winced. “Sure, I guess. But—”
“You know what? I’m sorry to say this, but I only want to talk. We’ll be having none of that sexy business.”
“None?”
“Maybe a kiss. But that’s where I draw the line. Even if you beg me.”
She laughed, and it made everything a whole lot better. Not fixed, though. He’d meant it about needing to apologize.
But he let it alone while she turned on more lights and put down her things. She looked tired, as he knew she would. “What can I get you to drink?” he asked.
“What, an hour behind the bar and now you’re a mixologist?”
He shook his head. “I had no idea how difficult your job is. I could barely keep up, even with Lisa’s help. I’ll tip better from now on.”
“I’ve seen your tips. You don’t have a lot of room for improvement.”
“Those were special.”
“I should hope so,�
�� she said, walking toward him, looking very purposeful. “How about you kiss me, then I go visit the ladies’ room while you fix us both a cold soda.”
“I can do that,” he said, pulling her close, pressing her body against his own. She felt amazing, and he breathed her in like the first hit of fresh air after the oxygen mask came off. When he kissed her, she slipped her arms around his neck as he circled her waist.
They started off just brushing their lips together, and when that about drove him crazy, he broached her with his tongue. She tasted like limes, and that made him grin. Not that he quit kissing her, because he might not get another chance tonight.
Running his hand up her back, he could feel the tension in her shoulders, and as badly as he wanted to use all his time to make out, this wasn’t about him. He pulled away, glad to hear her little protest, but not giving in to her tug on his shirt. “Go. I’ll get the sodas. You have a preference?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, then. See you in a few minutes.”
He turned, but was stopped midway. “Thank you. For helping me tend bar. For being patient. For... Well, just thank you.”
With a heavy sigh, he reversed so he could look her in the eyes. “I should have made the situation better, not worse.”
“You were great. Seriously. And now I’m asking pretty please if we can drop the subject. I’ve got so much to do tonight, and I’m already whipped.”
“You bet. I think I can help with those shoulders of yours. And quizzes. If you need a quiz, I am definitely your man.”
Her smile lit up her eyes. Not the way they did when she was rested and hadn’t had a major blowout with her brother, but still, he was pleased to see it. “I’ll think better after I wash my face,” she said, and then she was off.
He chose a cola for her, and a ginger ale for himself. The cracking of the ice made him thirstier still, and he’d downed a considerable amount by the time Cassie came back.
Little fringes of hair around her face were wet. She did seem somewhat more alert as she lifted her soda. “Here’s to caffeine and memorization.”
He urged her to the couch, where she handed him the textbook open to a list of study questions. It took them several minutes to arrange themselves so that he could massage her shoulders while she answered his questions. As the night went on, her answers came less quickly and were interspersed with yawns.
When the worst of the knots had been teased out of her muscles, he sat beside her. Twenty minutes past midnight, her body rested fully against him, her head on his shoulder.
“Why don’t we wrap this up?” he asked. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“I don’t need to see when you’re asking the questions. Keep going.”
He obeyed, knowing her determination wasn’t going to win over her exhaustion.
Finally, she didn’t answer a question. He was loath to move her. Not only did she look impossibly young and beautiful, but there was also a certain privilege that came along with her trust. He’d wanted to protect her at the bar, wanted to care for her now. She’d have objected. And it was true, she could take care of herself. Still...
He moved very carefully, slowly, arranging her on the couch until he could stand. A quick trip to her bedroom let him throw back the covers.
Once he returned to the living room, he didn’t pick her up immediately. Some urge he didn’t linger over had him crouching beside her, pushing back the wisps of now-dried hair. Touching her with his fingertips as he watched her sleep.
As far as distractions went, Cassie had exceeded his expectations. He’d thought of her as an attractive novelty. Perfect for ten days of something different.
That wasn’t the half of it. She’d surprised him many times. He’d found her very pretty when he’d first seen her, but now that he knew her, she was gorgeous. There were all her smiles, some still not catalogued. He liked to think understanding her body language was his homework. He didn’t mind studying one bit. He wanted to know her by heart before he went back to work.
Of course, the bad part about being so caught up in Cassie’s life was that he still had decisions to make about his own.
He stood again, and she stirred when he lifted her, but even in her groggy state she managed to snuggle against his chest and hold on with an arm around his neck. “What time is it?”
He smiled at the slur of her words. “Bedtime.”
She sighed and rubbed her cheek against his chest. “’Kay.”
By the time he turned out the lights, he’d made sure her alarm was set for seven-thirty, that they were both shoeless, although still dressed, and that he would be there in the morning to make sure she made it to her class on time.
14
“WHERE ARE YOU?” Cassie asked, clutching her cell phone, looking down the street to her left for his Corvette. It was past noon and she’d just finished writing her exam. John hadn’t said he’d be picking her up, but she’d bet the farm he was somewhere nearby.
“You’re cold.”
She straightened, her gaze going across the street.
“Warmer.”
Smiling, she turned to her right, and there he was, looking like a star on a sexy car billboard, one hand in his pocket, one up to his ear and his legs crossed as he leaned against the driver’s door. “How long did you work on that pose, pretty boy?”
“Um, what time did I drop you off?”
She laughed. “Come on. I’m starving. One piece of toast does not a breakfast make. You need to buy me lunch. I’m thinking deli.”
She watched as he climbed inside the car, but she couldn’t hear the engine turn over. “Hold on. I’m putting you on the speaker.”
He didn’t talk again until he’d merged into traffic. “For takeout, yes?”
“What? Oh, I hadn’t thought—”
“From the tone of your voice, I’m guessing you did well on the test. Am I right?”
He pulled up in front of her, blatantly ignoring that it was a red zone. She hurried around to the door and slid inside before they got a ticket. “You are,” she said, and heard her voice echo. She hung up. “You are,” she repeated. “I did well, but even more important, I don’t have to study again. At least for a while. I’m a woman of leisure. Except for working seven days a week, and finally giving my house the cleaning I’ve been putting off for months, and then painting my front door, because it looks like hell.”
“Other than that, huh?” he said, pulling into traffic. He was grinning, but then so was she.
“We don’t have to do deli if you want something else.”
“I don’t care about the food. I just want dessert.” His hand went to her thigh and snuck under the hem of the sundress she’d worn. “It wasn’t easy sleeping next to you last night.”
“I appreciate the tremendous sacrifice you made,” she said. “Seriously, I called the papers. They’re running a tribute on page two.”
“Page two?”
She shrugged. “Idiots.”
“Deli is fine. We can eat half a sandwich right away, and then the other half after.”
Cassie laughed, but slapped at his hand. “You’re taking a lot for granted there, flyboy. Besides, how come we always end up going to my place?”
“It’s nicer.”
“Why do I doubt that? Don’t tell me you’re hiding a wife and kids in some big old house in Summerlin.”
The look he gave her was so outrageous she had to laugh, although when he didn’t outright deny it, her stomach got a little funny. Which was ridiculous. “No, really. Why don’t we go to your place?”
“Okay,” he said. “You’ll see, though. Now, where is that deli again?”
* * *
THEY GOT TO HIS PLACE an hour later. When he opened the door, she was immediately caught by the view. It was spectacular. Or would be at night with the whole of the Strip glittering like a diamond runway. Then the white walls hit her. The nothing. No pictures, no plants, no books, no mementos from his travels. He
put his keys in his pocket.
“See? Not very homey.”
“You didn’t strike me as being a neat freak.”
“I have someone come in to clean.”
“To clean what? Do you have a closet filled to the brim somewhere in the back?”
“Nope. But I do have an ice machine, and a table. We can have that half a sandwich now.”
“Good. I’m famished.” She put the bag from the restaurant on the table and started unpacking. There wasn’t much. A couple of Dr. Brown’s sodas, two huge sandwiches and a few dill pickles.
John filled glasses with ice and came to sit across from her. “It’s not that I’m neat,” he said. “I’m just never here. When I’m not on leave, I work twelve- to fourteen-hour days. That’s not even counting when I’m deployed. I can be gone six months at a time.”
“But you have a housekeeper,” she said, carefully spreading her packet of mustard on her rye. “Although I’m not sure what she’d have to do besides dust. I mean, you don’t even have mail on the counter. That’s unnatural.”
He shrugged as he took an enormous bite. She, on the other hand, had to put half the meat from her sandwich on the wax paper it had come in. After a minute, he said, “I don’t have mail because most of it goes to my sister. She pays the bills from a joint account I set up. It’s easier when I’m out of the country.”
Cassie shook her head. “I swear. What is it about brothers who refuse to grow up?” Then she took her own bite and moaned at the still-warm pastrami. When she looked at John, expecting to find him devouring more of his food, she found him frowning at her instead. She waved her hand at him until she could tell him, “I was kidding. Sheesh.”
“I know,” he said, without an ounce of conviction. “The way you work and go to school, I don’t see how you can have so many things. I mean, I get art, I’m not a complete cretin, but the plants. The goldfish. Those take work, and you’ve got dozens.”
“Only two goldfish. In one bowl.”
He rolled his eyes, moving in on a pickle.
“I like having living things around me,” she said. “I breathe deeper, walking into a room full of plants. And I love being able to look at pictures or souvenirs that remind me of wonderful memories. I think, if anyone ever cared to, they could put together a very accurate portrait of my life from all the clues I’ve left. That means a lot to me.”
