Page 19 of Cassie
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Tugboat was perched on a stool behind the counter at the garage when Hoss walked in the next morning. “Took you long enough, Prez.”
Hoss aimed a scowl at his direction that the old man returned. Then he walked to the coffee machine and filled two mugs. Setting one in front of Tugboat, he cradled the other in a hand as he scrubbed his other palm across his face.
“Late night?” Deke’s question came from behind him, and Hoss saw Tug’s grin from the corner of his eye as he turned to face his friend.
“Not too. Worked once I got home.” Hoss shrugged and lifted his mug for a sip. “Lost track of time in the studio.”
“Damn, was kinda hopin’ you hadn’t gotten home.” Deke poured his own cup of coffee and joined Tug on the other side of the counter. “How’d you meet Cassie?”
“My piece of the story is pretty short, so we’ll get it out of the way.” Hoss eyed the two men, noting their eager expressions. “She was at a recent show. Tamara seemed to know her so I asked some questions.” He sipped the coffee and studied the pair sitting across from him. “Did you know she’s been buying my shit for years?” Tug grinned, and Deke lifted an eyebrow, shaking his head back and forth. “Yeah. She bought one at that last show, and I tagged along for the delivery. Tamara and the delivery service tried to talk me out of it, because they knew about her—” He paused and cast around a moment for the right word, finally settling on the one his agent had used. “—quirks. But you know me.” He shrugged, hiding behind his mug again for a moment. “I’m an asshole and didn’t give a shit. I wanted to see her and that’s all that mattered to me.”
“That’s gotta be the visit she said started it.” Tug smirked, his mustache lifting with the movement. “After everything, she said she stood and watched you get on your scoot, started wondering what it would be like to just get on a bike and ride off into the sunset, leaving everything behind.”
“Huh.” Hoss shook his head. Even the thought of escape seemed unlike the woman he’d met. But he would have never pictured her on a bike, either.Need to listen, asshole. “What do you know about her? What’s her story?”
“That’s for her to tell you.” Deke turned to look at Tug with interest, and Hoss realized Tug had kept whatever it was to himself. “I can say it’s not pretty. The things we men do to women in anger seldom are.”
“Brother, that statement alone gives us an idea of what happened.” Hoss set his mug on the counter and wrapped both hands around it, holding tightly so he didn’t wing it across the room like he suddenly wanted to. The idea of Cassie being hurt twisted through his stomach, leaving a path of stinging pain behind. “She’s okay, though?”
“Physically, yeah. She’s okay. Mentally?” Tug shook his head. “You saw her. You’ve seen her. It’s something she carries every day. She told me, and just the telling added to her scars.” He lowered his voice, sincerity ringing through his tone. “She’s strong, brother.”
“Yeah, I got that from her yesterday. The diner was tough, and I thought if something so easy to me could wreck her like that, what’s her normal day like?” Hoss turned abruptly, giving the two men his back as he refilled his mug, using the action as a cover to try and regain composure. Head angled down to the dark liquid filled with sloshing ripples, he murmured, “I wanna get to know her.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Deke laughed as he added his first tidbit to the conversation. “I told you yesterday what I wanted for you.”
“Yeah, and it ain’t exactly a secret what you wanted, Hossman.” Tug joined Deke in easy laughter. “You cared for her like she was the most precious thing in your world. Was good to see.” Hoss swallowed hard and turned back, mug in hand as he stared at Tugboat. “Every man wants that for you, Hoss. Seeing her with you, I’m thinking she can give that to you, but you’ll have to go easy with her.”
“I know.” He stared at first one then the other. “I can put the work in.”
“You’ll have to,” Tug agreed and pushed his empty mug across the countertop. “Gimme a fill-up, would ya? We’ve got work to do here, too.”
Hoss took both mugs and turned back to the coffee machine. He took his time filling them, getting his thoughts in order, and when he returned to place them in front of the men, he’d come to a decision. “I told her I’d see her today, and I’m going to make that happen. But,”—he scowled at Tugboat—“first you’re going to tell me everything you know about her.” When the old man opened his mouth to object, Hoss held up a hand and nodded. “Nothing you think betrays her confidence. I wouldn’t ask that. That’s mine to discover with what I’m gonna build with her. But everything else—” He shrugged. “—fair game. So tell me. From the first contact until you rode away from her house yesterday. Tell me.”
***
Hoss stood next to his bike and studied the garage in front of him, the yard beside, and house beyond. He’d gotten Cassie’s number from Tugboat, silently rolling his eyes while enduring the old man’s ribbing that her info didn’t already reside in his phone. The garage had necessitated hours of work, Hoss laboring alongside Deke on two different custom jobs, but when there’d been a lull midafternoon, he’d escaped into the office, and without giving himself too much time to consider the butterflies in his belly, he’d called Cassie. She’d answered on the second ring, laughter in her voice with the simple word, “Hello.”
The clock had never moved so slowly, and he’d caught himself staring at it more than once, willing the hands to move faster. Finally quitting time, he’d hurried home and put his plans into motion. There was a picnic dinner packed into a small bag strapped on the back of the bike. The bag could be moved easily if Cassie decided to ride with him. Not that he expected her to, because the way she’d owned her place on her bike the previous day told a story of finding independence. Pairing that with the tales Tug and Deke shared about her, Hoss hoped he had a good handle on how best to pursue her.
That was the decision he’d come to sometime in the middle of the night as he started yet another study of her smile. Having been the luckiest man once before, he knew he’d be a fool to walk away from the possibility Cassie dangled in front of him. “I’m no fool,” he repeated what he’d told Tugboat earlier. He glanced at the time on his phone before shoving it deep into his pocket. Five minutes early, so he leaned back on the seat of his bike and looked around her quiet neighborhood.
Tidy houses with three or four bedrooms surrounded her lot. They were homes for established families. Places of respite from the world, it was a place where there’d be lanky teens engaged in pick-up basketball games on Saturday afternoons, and a parade of church clothes waltzing along the sidewalk on Sunday mornings. He compared it to where he lived, behind a gated entrance for security, broad expanses of lawn between him and the next house intended to keep contact with neighbors to a minimum.
Hoss shook his head at the dichotomy of their lives. He was caught up in so many intense situations out in the world, when what he most wanted was quiet and security at home. She lived in a neighborhood intended to be a springboard of community activity, and was isolated instead.
The back door opened and he looked up at the sound in time to watch her move through it, turning to verify it had locked behind her. The chaps she wore framed her ass, and he hummed at the sight. Then she turned and smiled, and Hoss was glad he was leaning against his bike, letting it hold him upright as the beauty aimed his way made his legs weak.
“Hey,” she called with a big wave, as if he were half a block away.
“Hey yourself,” he called back, grinning at the eager expression on her face. She disappeared behind the garage for a moment, then the overhead door cranked upwards. Her feet appeared first, then leather-clad legs, trim waist, bright hair, and smiling face. “You wanna ride, or ride with me?” Hoss watched her face close down, anxiety shutting the door on the beauty of her smile and he frowned. “No real decision there, is it? You wanna ride your bike.” She nodded, fingers twisted together in front of her. “Then let’s go.”
“You don’t mind?” She directed this question towards the ground, and Hoss pushed off the bike, walking to stand in front of her.
“Baby,” he whispered, and her gaze flew up to meet his. He curled a knuckle under her chin, stroking along her jaw with the pad of his thumb. “What I want to do is spend time with you, however that comes. You wanna ride with me so we can chat a bit, that’d be cool. You wanna ride your own and we commune that way, that’s cool, too. You’re already giving me everything I wanted from this little outing.”
He saw the question in her eyes but waited, wanting her to ask aloud. She didn’t disappoint. “What’s that?”
