All the Right Moves

chapter 9

JOHN DISCREETLY CHECKED his watch. How could they only have been here an hour? It didn’t seem possible. But then he was impatient to be alone with Cassie, so yeah, time was dragging.

Since she seemed to be enjoying herself, he hadn’t suggested they leave yet.

As they mingled, sipping drinks, stopping for introductions and hellos, he couldn’t help notice the reactions being sent his way when Cassie wasn’t looking. Frankly, he was getting annoyed with the inquisitive eyebrow lifts from his fellow pilots and their plus-ones.

They paused near the deep end of the pool and Cassie got roped into a conversation about the correct way to make mojitos. As he took his next sip, listening to Cassie’s conversation with the female half of Shane’s neighbors, his eye caught on Nancy huddled with her friend Carolyn. He’d always liked Shane’s wife, but he was tired of her trying to fix him up. The beautiful and polished Carolyn, case in point. Then there was Rick’s date. She’d brought her sister—another attempt at matchmaking. So naturally Rick gave him the stink eye before pointedly frowning at Cassie.

John didn’t give a damn. His night wasn’t going according to plan, either. A few hours ago, he’d decided to skip the party altogether. The chance to see Cassie outside the bar changed his mind.

Next to him, she laughed and the warmth he felt for her, aside from the want that had been on simmer since that first day at the bar, made him glad that he’d brought her.

In the company of his friends, he felt adrift. In Cassie, a lifeline.

What the hell was going on with him?

Last night, after the frustration of being thoroughly decent for Cassie’s sake, he’d found himself caught up in memories of another decent man. His friend Danny. He and Sam and Danny had been a team since college. John’s thoughts had kept him up late—dark, circular and confusing thoughts. The tragedy of Danny’s death was something John fought to understand. It had been so senseless. Danny hadn’t made any mistakes. The fault had been in the jet. Something had gone wrong with two things that weren’t even parts of the same system. Completely unrelated. Neither of which should have happened at all, let alone at the same time.

And like that, Danny was gone, leaving his wife, his friends, his future.

As if obsessing over Danny hadn’t been hellish enough, John’s brain had insisted on replaying Sam’s phone call when he’d confessed that he’d been grounded. After surgery to correct his vision had somehow gone wrong, his eyesight had slipped just enough to ruin his career. By the time John had spoken to him, Sam had gotten his act together and tried to sound upbeat about his new plan. But underneath the forced calm, John had heard the devastation in his friend’s voice, had felt Sam’s bone-deep pain as clearly as if it had been his own. Never allowed in the cockpit again. The idea was unthinkable.

The morbid train of thought made its own kind of sense, he supposed. Helping Cassie study brought up memories of him and his friends. The three of them had been decidedly different yet they’d bonded over their passion for flying. They’d crammed for exams together, pushed each other to be better, stronger, smarter, even when the course load got so tough it would’ve been easy to switch dreams.

Damn it, John had no right to be judging the people at this party, no right to question his own amazing good fortune. Danny had given his life. Sam had soldiered on, willing to become an instructor instead of a pilot, when being a pilot was all he’d lived for.

It was easy to look down his nose at officers like Kevin who drank too much and screwed other officers’ wives. But John was guilty as well of too little gratitude for too much privilege.

Cassie’s tug on his shirt alerted him that he was about to guide them right into the pool. He hadn’t even realized they’d been walking, or where to.

She didn’t seem to mind. She smiled at him the same way she had in the Gold Strike and in her tiny overgrown kitchen. It was the first time in years that he hadn’t specifically sold himself as an air force pilot. That had always been his calling card, and it worked an amazing amount of the time. But Cassie didn’t care. When she looked at him she didn’t see the flight suit, just the man. She’d even promised she wouldn’t hold it against him.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” she said.

“I apologize. I’m being a terrible date. I should be showing you off—”

“I’d rather talk with you.”

Before he could muster a response to that, a call came from near the house.

“John? Over here.”

He recognized Moony’s wife’s high-pitched voice before he spotted her waving him and Cassie over. But her name escaped him. He motioned that they’d join them, then he squeezed Cassie’s hand. Her lips tilted up at the corners and her eyes sparkled. No drink demands or an open textbook to distract her. She looked happy and relaxed, and he felt better than he had all day.

He wanted to kiss her. Sweep her away to somewhere private. But that would have to wait for a bit. “You’re about to meet two couples. Mike, known as Moony, and Scott, whose call sign is the uninventive Scotty, are in my squadron. Scotty’s wife is Ashley but I can’t remember Mike’s wife’s name so work with me.”

“Got it.”

Inevitably they were stopped twice on their way to the group by the house. The few who hadn’t already gaped at John’s companion made no effort to hide their stares. True, he rarely brought a woman to a party, but these idiots should know better than to be obvious. Cassie had to be aware of what was going on, but she was the picture of grace. She smiled a lot and sipped her tequila sunrise.

“I wondered why you asked me to come,” she whispered once they had a clear shot to Mike and company. “Now I know.”

“How’s that?”

“To save you from all these women.”

“Half of them are married.”

“Trust me,” she said, with a soft laugh. “You have enough to worry about with the other half.”

“Wrong, Freud, there are lots of single guys here.” He grinned at her warning squint, then leaned in until his lips brushed her earlobe. “I brought you because you’re hot.”

“Stop it.” She shook her head, color blossoming in her cheeks. “I’ll give you ten minutes, and that’s it, you have to stop or face the consequences.”

Chuckling, he let go of her hand and slid his arm around her shoulders. She didn’t seem to mind, if her snuggle was anything to go by. His own reaction could turn into a problem if he wasn’t careful. He’d give the party a half hour, and that was it. “Let’s not stay long, huh?”

“That’s fine,” she said. “I can think of a few things we could do instead.”

A few steps from the foursome, he looked down into her oh-so-innocent gaze. “You telling me you don’t have one more test to study for?”

“That’s what I meant. Studying.”

“Like hell.”

“Fine, so I might have been referring to something a little more...naked,” she said under her breath, then turned a bright smile to the others as she approached with an extended hand. “Hi, I’m Cassie.”

It was that easy. Everyone introduced themselves, and John remembered Gwen’s name the second he heard it. He also remembered that he didn’t care for her. In fact, he’d been shocked when Mike married her last year after they’d met in a casino bar five months earlier. She was pretty, but an obvious social climber, and everything from her bottle-blond hair to her red nails was fake. So were her breasts. She wore blouses cut low enough for anyone to notice. That would have been fine, if she hadn’t made it perfectly clear that she’d married Mike only because he was a pilot.

“Is everything all right with Kevin?” Gwen asked, and Jesus, even her concern was fake.

“Yes, I think so.” Cassie smiled and sipped.

Gwen eyed her with a glint of suspicion. “I saw Nancy walking him into the house.”

Cassie refused to take the bait. Clearly she knew the woman was looking for dirt, and Cassie didn’t want to play in her sandbox. Good for her.

“So what are you doing with your time off?” Mike asked him. “Golfing?”

“Not a golfer. I used to play tennis once a week, but I haven’t for a while.”

“I knew it,” Cassie said, and everyone looked at her. She gave a sheepish shrug. “Your forearms,” she muttered, and gestured vaguely. “They’re muscular. Like a tennis player’s.”

Mike laughed and leaned forward to make a comment, but his voice died as his wife reached over and rubbed a hand up and down John’s right arm. “Oooh, you’re right. Very nice. Keep that up.”

The sudden silence that fell seemed louder than a sonic boom. Mike frowned at Gwen, then at John. He’d already stepped back, but the moment was no less awkward.

“I know you guys are stationed at Nellis,” Cassie said, moving closer to John, her expression neutral, her voice pleasant and even. She smoothed over the gaffe like a pro. “But where are you all from?”

“Scott and I grew up outside of Dallas,” Ashley said. “We went to the same high school, but we didn’t actually meet until after college.”

“Totally by accident,” Scott added, smiling at his wife. “I was home on leave and went to a buddy’s wedding.”

“I was one of the bridesmaids.” Ashley leaned into him. “We didn’t even know we’d gone to the same school until we talked that evening.”

“More like the whole night.” Scott slipped an arm around her waist. “Two years later everyone came to our wedding.”

Cassie sighed. “That is so sweet.”

John hadn’t heard the story before, but he knew Scott was crazy about his wife. He talked to her twice a day even when they’d been in the thick of things in Kabul. Watching them look at each other he felt that weird pull in his chest again.

“I’m from Vegas,” Gwen said, her high-pitched voice even more annoying now. “Born and raised. Everyone is always surprised. For some reason they think the Strip is all there is, that real people don’t actually live here.” She fanned her face and cleavage. “God, it’s hot. Cassie, what do you do?”

“I’m a bartender.”

Gwen’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Where? On the Strip?”

“No, a small dive bar my brother owns.”

“So you must be from here,” Gwen said, taking in Cassie’s jeans and black flip-flops.

“Nope. But I’ve lived here longer than anyplace else, so it kind of feels like home.” Cassie stirred what remained of her drink.

John thought about offering to get her another, but he preferred they leave. Figuring it was a safe bet she’d agree, he waited for his chance at a graceful exit. He didn’t need Mike to think they were running off because John felt guilty about what had happened. That was on Gwen, and it was between her and Mike.

“Are you a military brat?” Gwen asked. “Is that why you moved around?”

“No, my parents were...well, they still are...bikers.”

“Did you say bikers?” Gwen’s gaze narrowed with curiosity first at Cassie, and then at John. “As in Hell’s Angels?”

John tried not to show his hand but he was surprised. He wasn’t sure why.... What her parents did had nothing to do with Cassie, except, what a life for a child.

Cassie smiled. “No. We rode with different groups over the years, but mostly for social and safety reasons.”

“So you traveled with them even as a kid?”

“Yep. Me and my brother each had our own sidecar.”

* * *

Gwen had moved closer, her pitch climbing higher and drawing attention. “What about school? You poor thing...did you even get an education?”

John saw Mike tense at the condescension in his wife’s voice.

Cassie didn’t appear bothered, but then she had a good poker face. “My mom homeschooled us. She was a teacher before she met my father and took up the lifestyle, and she was strict about study time. So we had a better education than most public school kids.”

“But how do you know—?”

“Honey, mind getting me another drink?” Mike put his empty glass in Gwen’s hand. With a pointed look, he sent her a message to back off, which she ignored.

“Were you able to make friends?” Gwen asked, sidling up to Cassie and touching her arm as if she were her new best friend.

“Too many, I’m afraid. In forty-two states. I’m terrible at answering emails.” Cassie smiled. “I’ll go with you to get drinks. Any takers? I’m a damn good bartender.”

Scott accepted the offer, but only for a beer. John declined, and so did Ashley, who seemed torn between volunteering to go and staying put, out of Gwen’s reach. The woman had managed to make everyone uncomfortable. Though not Cassie. Not that she was about to put Gwen on speed dial, but Cassie had taken control, diffused the awkward situation without anyone the wiser. Except for him, but he was starting to understand her. And she was really something.

“They don’t need another pair of hands,” he said quietly to Ashley, who looked as if she might cave in to guilt.

She winced. “You sure?”

Staring after Cassie, he smiled. “I’m sure.”

* * *

“HONEY, I’M SO GLAD you came tonight.” Gwen tilted her head toward Cassie and lowered her voice as they passed a foursome sitting at a table. “You’re going to need my help. Look, I get where you’re coming from, I do.” Letting out a weary sigh, Gwen’s gaze swept the front of Cassie’s jeans and blouse. “Believe it or not, I used to dress like you. But, honey, you aren’t going to bag a fighter pilot, let alone a man like John Devlin—” she gestured with her hand, glossy red nails slicing through the air “—looking like this.”

Cassie almost missed her cue. She glanced down at her disreputable jeans and inexpensive blouse, then looked up into her self-appointed fairy godmother’s face. “Could you define bag?”

“What?”

“You said, ‘bag a fighter pilot.’ What does that mean?”

Impatience flashed in Gwen’s eyes. “You know. Get him to marry you.”

“That’s sweet,” Cassie said. “You’re sweet, really. But I don’t want to marry John. I just want him for sex.”

She grabbed a beer for Scott, then walked straight toward John, so tall and lean and looking ridiculously handsome in his jeans and blue polo shirt. He was by far the hottest guy at the party...not that she was biased. What she’d liked best was that he hadn’t batted an eye over her parents being bikers or that she herself had lived on the road, even though it was clear she’d surprised him. And when she’d told his friends she was a bartender, he hadn’t tried to mitigate it by adding she was a grad student.

“I decided not to have another drink,” she said after giving Scott his beer. She latched on to John’s arm and leaned close so the others couldn’t hear. Cassie stood on her toes, and whispered, “I hope you don’t mind. I told Gwen I just wanted you for sex.”

John laughed and coughed at the same time.

The other three turned to see what was going on, and Cassie just smiled.

“I’m not gonna ask how that came up.”

“That’s smart.” She shifted her weight so that the side of her breast pressed against his arm. “So...when were you thinking of leaving?”

He studied her face for a long, heated moment. “Your place okay?”

She nodded, tried to look blasé, then saw the wild pulse in his neck. Despite the warm flush surging to her cheeks she shivered.

“Hey, we’re going to be moving on. I’ll see you guys later,” John said, putting his arm around her and turning her back toward the house.

“You leaving?” Mike asked, and Scott grinned. “Something we said?”

“I think it was something I said.” Smiling, Cassie wiggled her fingers. “Nice meeting you.”

* * *

HANDS STUFFED in his pockets so he wouldn’t do something foolish like maul her in front of her neighbors, John waited while Cassie fumbled with her keys. He would’ve been more impatient if not for the distraction of the overhead porch light shimmering off the golden highlights in her hair. No ponytail tonight, just long loose shiny curls that fell past her shoulders.

She had great skin. Soft, smooth, some freckles that seemed to blend with her light tan. He’d find them, though, each and every one, once they got inside the duplex. And her tattoos. It was crazy, but he looked forward to discovering where they were hidden...if she ever got the door unlocked.

“Need help?”

“I almost have it.” She shoved with her free hand. “Here we go.” She flipped on a light switch as she stepped inside.

“Does the door always stick?”

“Mostly in the summer.”

“Remind me to have a look at it.”

She turned to face him, a slow smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “You surprise me. Not many people do.”

“I didn’t say I could fix it.” He closed the door behind him. “I just said I’d look at it.”

Cassie threw her purse and keys at a chair. The purse landed safely, the keys thudded on the floor. “Ha. You’re a riot. You want something to drink?”

“I’m good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Grinning, she pulled the hem of his shirt from his jeans and tugged him toward her.

“So you just want me for sex, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” She laughed. “I am. But Gwen, she’s just—well, she’s kinda nuts. Have she and Mike been married long?”

“No.” He kissed her bare shoulder and slid a finger down her chest to the first of far too many little white buttons.

“Right.” She briefly closed her eyes and slid her palms up his chest. “We won’t talk about them.”

“Good.”

“Come.” She took his hand and led him to the hall opposite the side of the kitchen.

They passed a small bedroom on the left, a bathroom on the right. Her bedroom was at the end, the walls painted a light blue, the queen-size bed neatly made and covered by a puffy white comforter. The room wasn’t crowded like the rest of the house. A small dresser stood beside an old-fashioned sliding-door closet. No clothes were strewn around. Some were folded inside a plastic laundry basket sitting in the corner on the floor.

On her dresser were two small green plants. In front of them a pair of goldfish swam in a bowl. It made John smile.

She followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s Heart and Soul.” She kicked off her flip-flops, then moved one of the plants in front of the bowl. “Don’t worry, I won’t let the kids watch.”

Shaking his head, he toed of his deck shoes. He was willing to wager she surprised him a whole lot more than he surprised her.

Her lips parted as she watched him pull off his shirt then toss it aside.

John caught her upper arms and held her still while he kissed the side of her neck. He skimmed his lips against her silken skin and said, “Now, you just stand there and look gorgeous while I do all the work.”