Page 17 of Cassie
You with me?
Cassie
Steering her bike to keep her riding just behind and beside Hoss, she grinned broadly, and lifted her chin into the wind. Unlike riding the highways down this morning, there was enough variety in the surfaces and views on the winding road around the lake that she wasn’t bored, and any tiredness had fled.Exhilarated would be more the right word, she thought, automatically slowing for the next turn.
Watching him as closely as she was, Cassie couldn’t miss the way he kept part of his attention on her, constantly checking on her in his mirrors or looking back with his chin over his shoulder. Attentively keeping her as safe as he could from his position leading their little party of five bikes. Glancing over her own shoulder, she found Tug was also watching her, his smile broad and proud. She returned the look, and then put her eyes front again, concentrating on riding.
Today had been an unexpected pleasure. And thinking back to what she had imagined when she first considered buying a bike, she realized that what she’d experienced so far was much more, far outstripping her novice expectations. It was a feeling she’d be hard put to describe, this freedom of total control, of successfully wrestling a machine so it behaved the way you wanted, all the while engaged within the world in a way that was a three-hundred-sixty-degree arc of immersion.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t react quickly enough to the next curve, her tires riding high outside the fog line before she leaned the bike deeply, gravel skittering loose underneath her wheels.If I slow down, the bike will stand up and I’ll go straight. She had a moment to think and then gave her engine more gas instead, bending further into the corner, bringing the bike back into the section of lane she had been riding. With a whooping breath, she sat up after they exited the corner and caught a concerned look from Hoss. Whatever he saw in her face reassured him and he gave her a thumbs-up, turning to face front again.
Tug was less sanguine about the incident, riding up beside her and shouting, “Get your fucking head out of your ass. You have to fuckingride, Cassie, not drift in your fucking head.” She nodded and he glared at her, then slowed to where he had been riding just to the left and behind her back wheel.
Fifteen minutes later, Hoss lifted a hand and she straightened in her seat, watching closely for whatever he was about to signal. His blinker came on and he pointed towards a small parking area ahead. She slowed, carefully riding single file onto the packed gravel of the lot. Once stopped, she watched him back his bike into half of a parking spot, then he motioned for her to do the same.
She pulled past the space, as he had done, then she twisted her head and body around, trying to push the bike backwards with her feet. Suddenly self-conscious of the bikes waiting on her, Cassie tried to rush. The sole of one boot skittered free, no grip in the gravel and she struggled to right the bike, holding it between her thighs as it threatened to topple over. Then her hand slipped on the throttle and the engine revved loudly. When she jerked in response, the engine suddenly cut off and she sat there for a moment, stunned. Glancing around, she saw the other men had already parked and she swallowed her embarrassment, pushed her bike backwards, and blew out a relieved breath when she finally glided to a slow stop next to Hoss’ bike.
Kickstand. She heeled it down and then tipped the bike over, making sure it was stable before she let go of the handlebars.
“Jesus, gal, you got a mouth on you,” Mojo muttered, walking to stand beside her front wheel. She glanced up at him and then back down. He cleared his throat, then in a lowered voice said, “Bike can sometimes be easier to back up after you kill it, when you don’t have the engine torqueing around under you. Don’t forget you hit the kill switch, though. That’s embarrassing when you go to start the bike and it justnnnnnsandnnnnns.” He made whining noises, and she glanced up at him again. “Kill switch,” he repeated quietly, pointing to the lever beside her thumb and she realized why her bike had died.He thinks I did it on purpose.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” she responded softly, and even without her eyes on his face, she could tell he was grinning just from the light feel of the air.
“Nnnnn.” He made the noise again and reached out, his thumb pressed against the starter button. She jolted when her bike made the same noise, then looked up at him and grinned, startled at how his face changed when his expression grew soft. “There you go, gal,” he said gently, and she nodded, a sudden lump in her throat. It felt almost like the beginning of a panic attack, but was just different enough that it caught at her attention and she tried to dissect it, define it. “Definite mouth on ya, though,” he muttered again as he turned away, pulling a bottle of water out of his saddlebag and throwing it to her. “Not so prissy as I thought.”
Reflexively catching the bottle, she glanced around to find Tug grinning at her, as was Tequila. Twisting the other direction, she noted Hoss had a broad smile on his face, too. “What?” she asked him, and if anything, his smile grew wider.
“Shit. Fuck. Shit. Crap, fucking shit. God fucking shit.” His tone was pitched high, falsetto, and the cadence wasn’t like his normal accent. She frowned at him, not understanding why he was cursing at her.
“What did I do wrong?”
“Well first, you got distracted. Way too deep in your head when you gotta be present when you’re riding. Hazards and risks can come at you from all sides. You need to not allow yourself to be one of those dangers. But, you did good, gal, read the wrong and fixed it right. Tucking into that corner deeper, pulling yourself back off that rabbit line.” Hoss’ gaze kept moving, dancing, glancing between her eyes and mouth, back to her eyes to make sure she heard him. She nodded. “But your mouth? I was twenty feet ahead of you, and I heard you. Hell, the people on that pontoon boat a quarter mile out probably heard you, too. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Crap. Fucking shit. God fucking shit.” He grinned and chuckled.
“Then here on the lot, you let the bikes behind you pressure you into moving before you were balanced. Gotta be sure of yourself or you’ll fuck up, every time. You nearly laid it down, and that really would have been embarrassing, yeah?” He paused, and she nodded, because he was right on every point. “Then you got flustered, flailing around and shit. And again with the mouth. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Crap. Fucking shit. Jesus fucking shit.” He grinned, then said, “I agree with Mojo. You got a mouth.”
She was suddenly sure she knew what he was saying, and her chin dropped. Her face was burning hot and she knew red had raced up her cheeks.
“Ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing, Cassie. It’s kinda cute, hearing that come out of your pretty mouth.” Hoss’ voice had dropped past a whisper; these words were for her alone. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat from his skin. He moved to cover her hand, threading his fingers with hers before he squeezed and lifted her knuckles to brush softly against his lips. “Makes me wonder what else you do that would surprise me.”
***
Hoss
Rolling back into town, he knew she had to be tired, could see exhaustion lining her face, but damned if she wasn’t determined to ride well. He suspected part was she wanted Tug to stay proud of her, but hoped some of it was for him. They’d had a good chat by the lake, his brothers giving them some space, the three men taking off and walking along the lakeshore while he and Cassie sat on a picnic table near the bikes. They had laughed and joked about nothing in particular, his arm propped around her back some of the time. Not holding her, not quite, just elbow locked with his palm on the table. From the close distance, he’d soaked up the heat from her body and found himself wanting more. He had given himself permission to hold her hand a portion of the time, fingers twined with hers. Watching her expressive features as she giggled through one of his stories, he’d found himself musing more than once about how good a kiss from her might be.
Good times in the middle of a good day, one that should go a long way to shoring up Cassie’s confidence in her abilities to ride, he hoped. The frozen, fearful woman from the diner earlier was absolutely gone, and in her place had flowed a welcome, quick-witted personality. Full of questions and comments, opinions on anything, this Cassie had an easy way of communicating that let you know even when she didn’t agree with you on something, she respected your position.
Their idyllic time ended with Tug’s head nodding towards the west in recognition to the sun dipping towards the horizon. It had been time to go. Back on the bikes, out of the park and onto the roads, he’d led them home.
First Tequila peeled off, after rolling up to catch her attention, and then he’d given her a wave that she returned. A couple miles later Mojo had done the same, giving her a wink in addition to the wave and she’d wrinkled her nose at him, the goggles turning it into an endearing expression that Hoss froze in his mind without even thinking about it, knowing he’d see it again on a canvas.
All day she had given him ideas for new studies, bold sketches he would be working on as soon as he had graphite in hand. Snapshots of brilliance and beauty to be stored and used as inspiration. His world was colored magnificently today, and he was thrilled it came from her.
He didn’t recognize her house from the back, had only vaguely remembered the neighborhood and was hoping to take his cues from her or Tug. He got a clue when Tug whistled and pointed to a drive he had just passed, and he twisted to see Cassie pulling into it. Eyeballing her yard, he decided it was firm enough, so he rolled the curb slowly and then pulled through her grass, winding up in her driveway facing out before he dismounted.
She had paused on the cement apron in front of the garage, the door slowly opening and then she rode in, killing the engine while still facing the back. One efficient three-point turn later, the bike was pointed out and kickstand down. She stood up and off the bike in a smooth movement, already removing her helmet. Looking completely in her element, this had to be where she’d spent a lot of time practicing because confidence rolled off her, making her even more attractive.
As she had at the gas station, she went directly to Tug and he stood waiting with arms out. That pose rankled Hoss and he frowned for a moment, only able to let go of something that felt suspiciously like jealousy when he heard her murmured gratitude to the old man. “Thank you so much, Tugboat. You’ve helped open up my world.”
