All the Right Moves

chapter 11

AT TWO-THIRTY in the afternoon, John started a pot of coffee before he talked himself into going back to bed. He’d had too little sleep, and his room was dark and cool thanks to good blackout shades. Poor Cassie was just as sleep-deprived and had no choice but to study, and then had to show up at the bar in an hour.

It reminded him too much of what it was like for him all during his pilot training. The never-ending cycle of work and schoolwork, and the irrational belief that sleep was for the weak.

He’d left her place around eight, and thought about her the whole way back to his condo. He was really glad that he’d asked her to go to the party, even if his timing was nothing short of rude. She’d been an ace in what could have been an uncomfortable situation. She’d known it, too. Her asking him about the bartending bit told him she truly did understand air force officer culture.

Was that why he’d brought her? To show her off, or worse, as some kind of rebellious statement? It didn’t feel as if he’d used her, but he hadn’t been himself lately, and he didn’t know what that was about, either.

He grabbed his phone from the charger, carried it with him to the living room and sprawled out on the couch while he checked for messages. Much as he didn’t expect to hear from her, he was kind of hoping he would. But no, nothing from Cassie. He did have two voice mails, one of them from Mike.

Shit.

Moony rarely called him, which meant he probably wanted to talk about last night. Though everything had seemed cool between them after Cassie walked off with Gwen. And surely Moony didn’t blame him for his wife’s inappropriate behavior. John hadn’t asked her to touch him, and he’d made it clear it was unwelcome.

A whiff of the brewing Columbian drew him back to the kitchen. He filled a mug before he punched in Mike’s number, prepared to leave a message since Mike was at work. Luckily, he answered.

“Hey...what’s up?”

“I’d wanted to talk to you last night but you left too soon.” Mike had to be near the hangar. The fading noise from a Raptor engine drowned out half his voice. “Wait a second...I’m on the move.”

John listened to the familiar background sounds, trying to decide if he missed being on the base. There was an odd comfort in hearing a fighter take off and land. But he had to admit, he was enjoying his leave. Primarily because of Cassie.

“I just came off a three-hour debriefing that should’ve taken two,” Mike said when it was quieter. “Goddamn Sanford’s got a stick up his ass today.”

“He always does.” Bullshit debriefings John definitely didn’t miss. “So you flew this morning.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t scheduled to. Good thing Gwen and I left shortly after you and—is it Cassie or Cassidy?”

“Cassie.” He wondered if Mike’s wife had told him about Cassie’s using-him-for-sex comment. Well, yeah, of course she had. John smiled.

“She seems like a real spitfire.”

“Oh, she is.”

“Gwen really liked her. She was hoping we could all get together for dinner.”

Christ. Was that why he’d called? John squeezed the bridge of his nose. “That would be hard. She works nights.”

“No problem if you can’t. I told Gwen I’d mention it.” Mike paused. “By the way, she had one too many margaritas. She didn’t mean anything.”

“Already forgotten.”

Mike quietly cleared his throat. “The reason I called, some of us—Towlie, Rufus and maybe Waldo... We’re planning an Alaskan fishing trip. We figured we’d hop a transport to Seattle, rent a plane and then fly to Seward. Book a few one-day charters. My neighbor went last year. He said the halibut and salmon fishing is unreal.”

“When?” John wasn’t into standing around holding a pole, but he knew that bunch. There’d be more to the trip than fishing. “I don’t know when I’ll get more leave.”

“Not right away. We’re in the planning stages.”

“How long a trip?”

“Personally, I’d like to go for ten days, minimum. But Gwen would bitch. But then she’ll complain even if I take off for a week.”

“Ah...come on. You’re still newlyweds.”

“Screw you, Devil.” Mike laughed. “Wait until it’s your turn. Let’s see how you handle being on a short leash.”

“Never happen, buddy.”

“Marriage or the short leash?”

His knee-jerk response was to say both. But that wasn’t true. “Nothing’s slipping around this neck.”

“We’ll see. Half my damn reenlistment bonus is gone, and I only got the check three months ago.” Mike kind of laughed again, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Hell, I’m not sure where the money all went.”

John hoped he was exaggerating. They were talking six figures.

“Don’t think I’m complaining about Gwen. I’m not. She likes to look good, and I want her to. It’s just—” His sigh was pure frustration. “I figured I’d better grab some of that bonus for the fishing trip. I can’t remember the last time we all got together. Been a while.”

There was a good reason he couldn’t remember. The five of them had never gone out of town as a group. But John knew the chatter was more about steering the conversation away from Mike’s wife. “Yeah, sounds good,” he said, wondering if he’d still be around. “Let me know once you guys work out the details, and I’ll find out if I can get leave.”

“You’re coming up on reenlistment soon, right?”

John briefly closed his eyes. Why had he thought for one second that it wouldn’t come up? “Yep.”

“Don’t sign until they give you a week off for Alaska.”

“Right.” John knew everyone assumed he was staying put. And why not? He’d be crazy to give up his air force career. He knew that. Trouble was, it didn’t make his decision any easier.

“You got plans for the money?”

“What? I go on leave and everybody slacks off? You have nothing to do but talk on the phone all day?”

Mike told him what he could do to himself, then exhaled into the phone. “That’s right, you’re still single. You don’t have to think one step ahead.”

“I’m single, yeah, but I’m not twelve. I’ll invest.”

“Attaboy, Devil. You always were the brightest of the bunch. Just remember, though...before you buy that diamond ring, choose carefully, my friend. Find a woman who won’t embarrass you, makes you look good, but can stand on her own. And make sure you have a secret bank account,” Mike said, pretending that last part was a joke.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He sure as hell wouldn’t marry someone like Gwen. Or any woman who expected him to toe her line, or begrudge him a trip with the guys. But then being with the right woman meant John would rather stay home with her.

“This Cassie...anything serious there?”

“I haven’t known her long enough.”

“How’d you meet?”

“A bar.”

“That’s where I met Gwen,” Mike said, though he knew that wasn’t news to John. “You meet her parents yet? The bikers?”

John didn’t like where he thought this might be headed. “Did you always meet your dates’ parents when you were single?”

“Hey, I was just curious. You gotta admit she’s not your usual type.”

“No.” He’d give him that much. But then he had to add, “She’s smarter.”

“Jesus, don’t get defensive. I didn’t mean anything. She was interesting, that’s all.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Hey,” Mike said, “I gotta get back to work. For the hell of it, mention dinner to Cassie. Maybe the next time she has a free night the four of us can get together.”

“Sure,” John said. “I’ll do that.” Naturally he wouldn’t. He already knew how she felt about Gwen. What bothered him more at the moment was the implied warning from Mike.

While he appreciated the intent, he didn’t like the assumption behind it. Cassie was nothing like Gwen. The two women didn’t even belong on the same planet together. He wasn’t talking about Gwen’s sense of style, either, because whatever made a woman feel like she looked good was fine by him. It was her sense of boundaries that made John uncomfortable. Gwen might be a wonderful wife, someone Mike dearly loved, but she did him no favors.

They disconnected, and John went to the kitchen to get rid of the cold coffee. In a way, he felt sorry for Mike. The other wives and girlfriends didn’t seem high on Gwen, either, and John suspected that as a couple they probably weren’t invited to more intimate gatherings. Cassie was fresh off the boat. She didn’t know Gwen yet and might be willing to get cozy. Or...

John kept circling back to the notion that Mike perceived Cassie as a version of his wife. He obviously didn’t know Cassie, so it was nothing to get annoyed over. And what did John care, anyway? He’d never given a damn about what his fellow officers expected of him outside his duties. Of course, he’d always toed the line. Gone out with women who were either one-night flings or bring-home-to-momma material.

Cassie wasn’t either one. He certainly wanted more than last night and this morning. But getting serious? Nah, this was a leave thing. That was all.

With a heaviness in his chest, he refilled his mug. He had to admit, though, that when she’d said her parents were bikers...he’d cringed. It had been complete reflex, and he’d covered the gaffe quickly. Lucky for him, Cassie hadn’t seen it. But just because he’d gotten away with being a jerk didn’t mean he was in the clear. He felt like crap every time the memory flashed.

Maybe it was Gwen’s style that made him not like her. Maybe he was a stuck-up pilot who thought he was better than everyone else. He’d have to be deaf, blind and stupid not to see that was the prevailing attitude of his kind.

His kind.

Yes, he led a charmed life, always had, really. But he’d never thought of himself as a snob. Probably because he was up to his eyeballs in snobs just like himself.

Maybe accepting Wagner’s offer to be his personal pilot would be a smart move. It would get John into the real world. As soon as the thought sunk in, he caught the error in his thinking. He would only be trading one rarified subculture for another. Tony Wagner was extremely wealthy. The hotels would be five-star, the restaurants, the clubs, the women. John wouldn’t suddenly become Joe Everyman.

He sipped his coffee, his thoughts turning to Cassie, and before he knew it, he pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed speed dial. She was either studying or getting ready to go to work. He had no business interrupting, but he wouldn’t keep her. Maybe she’d like to know he was thinking about her...maybe he’d stop feeling like crap once he heard her voice.

All he heard was her brief voice-mail message telling him he knew what to do if he wanted his call returned. That was enough to make him smile.

* * *

CASSIE PLUNGED HER HANDS into the sudsy water filled with dirty mugs and cursed the broken dishwasher. She cursed again when she realized she’d forgotten to slip on the rubber gloves. That she now gave a rat’s ass about keeping her hands soft and smooth warranted another juicy cuss word. But she saved it for Tommy. Assuming he’d ever show up.

The Gold Strike was hopping. A bunch of new people had come in with the hospital gang because it was Beth’s birthday. And sucker that she was, Cassie had bought the ingredients to make a piña colada, which Beth had wanted earlier in the week. Now, everyone at her table had ordered one.

“I have a few spare minutes.” Lisa set her tray down, then turned to take a final sweep of the room. “Want me to wash, fill pitchers or make the piña coladas?”

“How about going over to Tommy’s and dragging him back here by his ear?” Cassie looked up only briefly. She was so damn angry, but she didn’t need to drag Lisa into it. “Actually, I’ll settle for you taking care of the pitchers or washing mugs. And thanks.”

Lisa slipped behind the bar and stuck a pitcher under the tap. While it filled, she elbowed Cassie aside. “You make the piña coladas. I can wash and watch the pitchers at the same time.” Her gaze went to the textbook half hidden by a stack of clean rags. “Oh, and after this round, I’m telling Beth we ran out of colada ingredients.”

“You won’t be completely lying. I have enough pineapple juice for only one more drink.”

The door opened and they both looked over. No Tommy, but more customers. Great.

Cassie sighed. She was tired and unprepared for tomorrow’s exam. Part of it was her fault because she should’ve known better than to let John stay over last night. There wasn’t enough discipline in the world that would’ve allowed her to choose sleep over his clever hands and hard, warm body.

And what had she done after he left? Lazed around, sipping coffee and replaying one of the most amazing nights of her whole life. God, the man was sexy and talented. Funny. Smart. And he’d wanted her...Cassie O’Brien. There was no mistaking how much. Oh, she’d gotten in a couple hours of cramming, and then fell dead asleep on top of her open book. By the time she’d roused herself, she’d had to hightail it to the Gold Strike. Though not after calling Tommy, begging him to open so she could come in later. He’d turned her down, vowed he would if he could but he had an appointment.

She’d explained the importance of tomorrow’s exam, and was pleased when he actually seemed sympathetic. She was even happier when he promised to relieve her by seven-thirty. It was now eight-forty, and he wasn’t answering his phone. Stupid bastard. There’d been no misunderstanding. She’d been very, very clear. He knew how much she was counting on him, and that was what hurt. Really hurt, like a knife to the heart.

Putting on a smile wasn’t easy as she walked to the other end of the bar, where the newcomers had found stools, but it wasn’t the customers’ fault her brother was a selfish ass.

“Hi. What can I get you, gentlemen?” She didn’t know them, but the short guy with the shaggy hair and beard waved at Gordon and his crew sitting in the corner.

“Beer,” the younger, taller man said. “Whatever’s on tap.” He gave her a flirty smile, nothing offensive. In fact he was kind of cute in a yuppie sort of way, which made the pair even odder. Normally she would’ve smiled back, been more friendly, especially because of their connection to Gordon. But tonight trying not to scowl ate up most of her energy.

“And you?” She waited for the man to stop making hand signs to Gordon as if they were communicating in some juvenile secret code.

He finally turned to her. “What’s that, honey?”

“Would you like a drink?”

“Yeah. Let’s see...” He played with his beard and frowned at the bottles of booze against the back wall. His gaze jerked to the left, and he grinned. “I’ll have me one of those.”

She knew without looking that Lisa was pouring the piña colada blend into glasses. Wonderful...this guy who looked as if he drank straight tequila with a side of nails for breakfast wanted a froufrou drink. Just perfect. Tempted as she was to ask if he wanted a miniature umbrella with it, she kept her mouth shut and headed back to her station. He’d likely say yes.

The door opened again, and she prayed with everything she had that it was Tommy.

Even better, it was John.

He looked right at her, and his smile, oh, God, his smile was really something. Not only was he gorgeous in his worn jeans and tan polo shirt molding his biceps and fit torso, but she also knew what was under those clothes. Heaven help her, a blush started somewhere around her chest and surged up her throat to her cheeks.

She quickly turned away, and looked directly into Lisa’s amused eyes. Her gaze shot to John, and then came back to rest on Cassie’s warm face.

“You little sneak,” Lisa said, her grin taking over her features. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Cassie gave her a puzzled frown, peppered with enough irritation to send a clear message. Then busied herself with getting out the last of the pineapple juice and maraschino cherries.

“Come on...give it up.” Lisa sidled up to her, totally ignoring the three drinks Cassie hastily garnished and set on the tray.

“Sure would help if I knew what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. You know what. Your cheeks are redder than those cherries.”

“Take these to Beth and her friends, and tell her no more, I’m out.”

“Fine. If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask John.” Lisa lifted her chin at the same time she hefted the tray.

“Go ahead.” Cassie snorted a laugh. “I’d like to see that.”

With a disgruntled huff, Lisa left.

Cassie whipped up another piña colada while she filled two mugs, one for the new guy, one for John. Damn it, how had Lisa known they’d seen each other outside the bar just from looking at him? He’d smiled, that was all. Yes, he might’ve given her a heart-stopping look at the same time, but... Oh, God, had she been the one to give it away? She’d smiled back, nothing girlie, or sappy, just a plain ordinary smile she gave to every customer.

Or not. Oh, boy.

How could she possibly look at him without remembering his mouth on her breasts? Or how he used the tip of his tongue to make those tiny circles on the soft skin inside her thigh.

Snapping back to the present, she rescued the overflowing mugs, then grabbed a clean rag and wiped the beer off the handles. She picked them up, and made the mistake of looking over to see John watching her with those damn bedroom brown eyes and that ridiculously sexy smile of his. The heat still burned in her cheeks, and before she could think rationally, she gulped down half the ice cold beer from one of the mugs.

Lisa chose that moment to return, and let out a startled laugh. “What are you doing?”

Cassie shook her head, wiped her mouth with a cocktail napkin in case there was foam clinging to her lips and set the beer aside. “I couldn’t carry all of them, anyway,” she muttered, and picked up the piña colada and full mug.

Keeping her eyes averted, she carried the drinks to the two men. The younger guy was sitting on John’s usual stool, so he’d settled on another one closer to the wall. It was more private...if she ever got some time to talk. The men wanted to start a tab, and she tried to not look disappointed. A trio of regulars sat closer to her station, so really, what were a couple more customers sitting at the bar? Maybe she’d take home some decent tips for a change.

She filled out a slip for the newbies, then moved closer to John, but she didn’t dare look into his eyes. “Beer?”

He put his elbows on the bar and leaned forward, gazing at her. His lazy smile told Lisa everything she wanted to know. “Hey.”

Without her permission, her gaze went to his, and the sounds of the bar faded. Memories flooded her, all of them visceral enough that her next breath trembled. A snort of laughter from the left brought her back as if she’d been slapped. She cleared her throat and threw on a casual smile. “Going once, twice—”

Clearing his own throat, he straightened. “Yes. Please.”

Cassie spun around, and damn it, Lisa was waiting for her.

“Wow.” The word was out of her mouth before Cassie reached her, and she didn’t seem one bit cowed by a glare that should’ve singed her short hairs. “Wow.”

“Don’t.” Cassie put up her index finger. “Seriously.”

It was too late.

Gordon and his half of the room were already staring at her.