“Faynez.” Hoss lifted his voice to call to his daughter where she played with Fury’s little girl. Faith’s head rose, and Hope’s steady gaze looked back at him. Caught off guard, Hoss stilled, breath locked in his lungs. This was another precious moment when their child so resembled her mother, and he wanted to hold it in his hands, wanted to take a snapshot of it in his mind so he could transfer the memory to canvas later.
“Yeah, Daddy?” She tipped her head to the side and quirked her lips sideways as she considered him. “Looks like you’re going somewhere. You fixin’ to take a walk?”
“Yup, found someone I wanna talk to.”
Rolling her eyes, she angled back towards Beauty. Laughter was thick in her voice when she dismissed him with a rolling, “Duh.”
“What’s that mean, baby girl?” He studied her back, the shaking of her shoulders. Beauty stared into Faith’s face, a broad smile brightening her features as she reflected Faith’s hilarity.
Her answer came quickly as she sang, “Nothing.” Faith waved a hand over her head, not deigning to turn around. “Go for your walk, Daddy. Finally. I’ll be here.”
Fury’s amused voice came from beside him. “She’s got you pegged, man. Might as well tell her.”
“She already knows. I just didn’t tell her Cassie would be here tonight.” After the infamous run he’d drawn Cassie into, every member of the Fort Wayne chapter, as well as some members from other chapters, knew all about Cassie. Tugboat and Deke, along with Tequila and Mojo had all been free with their praise of her, talking her up all around the clubhouse and club businesses. It was likely Faith had heard a few of those stories, as well as others told not skimping on details such as how possessive Hoss had behaved at the diner.
“Go on, I’ll watch your girl.” Fury gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Go find your woman.”
My woman. Whatever expression he wore had to be telling, because Fury’s mouth stretched in a broad grin. Hoss shook his head and muttered, “Asshole.”
A commotion rose from near the box entrance and Hoss turned to see Mason strolling in with Willa trailing behind him. Garrett, their boy, followed in and took a moment to glance around before making a beeline for where Faith sat with Beauty.
A few casual words later and the buzzer sounded, marking the end of the first period, and Hoss was still no nearer his goal. Fury closed in behind him and muttered, “Go when you need to.” Hoss nodded, made his apologies, and left, striding through a mass of people leaving their seats for the promise of overpriced soft drinks and salty junk food.
Having been a fixture at the arena for so long had its advantages, and Hoss quickly made his way to one of the out-of-the-way vendors. Leaving there with a tray of drinks and snacks, he dodged between groups and made his way to the entrance closest to Cassie’s seat. Standing at the top of the steep steps leading down to ice level, he saw she was still seated. Perfect. There’d been no one in the two seats nearest her during the earlier part of the game, which should leave him free to stay next to her when play resumed after the intermission.
Standing at the end of the row, he watched her for a moment. Cassie’s focus was on her phone, thumbs tapping at the screen. She lifted it closer to her face and apparently satisfied with what she saw, poked at it with one fingertip before dropping it to her lap and covering her face. Hoss’ phone vibrated in his pocket. He juggled the tray for a moment to dig the device out and looked at the screen. How’s your night going? So few words to account for the amount of time she’d spent typing it meant she had agonized over what to say, how to connect with him tonight.
He quickly typed back, Well. Yours?
An instant after he hit Send, she jolted and dropped her hands, fumbling for her phone. She studied it a moment, then went to work on the screen again, thumbs tapping out an inconsistent beat. Finally, she poked at the screen again, and her one-word response flashed on his phone. Yes. She groaned and tipped her chin down. “Why can’t I be a normal human being? ‘Yes.’ Could I shut down a conversation any faster? Ugh.”
Hoss grinned. He’d wondered how much of her he’d been getting in their interactions, and this told him more than she probably would want exposed. She cared, and he mattered to her. With that knowledge, he felt like he was on top of the world, ready to take on all comers for the prize. Her. My Cassie.
“Pretty much any question you wanna ask me, I’m gonna answer with yes, Cassie.” Careful of her feelings, Hoss pitched his voice for her ears only. At his first word, she whirled to face him, cheeks pinking. One step at a time, he made his way up the row, talking as he paced towards where she sat. “You want me to come over? The answer is yes. Wanna hang out with me at the bar? Yes, again. Dinner? That’s affirmative, honey. Hockey game? You betcha.” He stood in front of her, staring down into her shining eyes. Hoss remembered his thoughts the first time they’d spoken and smiled softly as he planned his next few words. “Want a personal tour of my private gallery? Oh, yeah. I’d be down for that. Mmhmm, anytime.” He pretended to leer until she smiled broadly, shaking her head in amusement. “Come on over and I’ll show you my sketches, baby.” She giggled, and the sound was so light and free it broke the bonds holding his chest tight. More confident than he’d felt in a long time, he gave Cassie a promise, the words resonating through him. “The only no you’ll hear from me is if you try to give me my walkin’ papers. That’d be not just a no, but a hell no. May I join you?”
Wordlessly, she indicated the seat next to her, and he grinned as he settled into it.
After what could have been a heavy start to their evening, he kept things light, pleased when Cassie followed his lead. Hoss pointed out all the resident characters, fans of the team he knew personally and by reputation. She laughed and angled towards him in her seat, focusing her attention on him in that way she had of making him feel like the only thing within her orbit. He took a chance and leaned in to offer another handful of popcorn. He withdrew the offer at the last moment, capturing her mouth in a gentle kiss instead. She made a low sound far back in her throat, and his cock jerked when he felt the heat of her palm settle on his thigh as she steadied herself against his tender approach.
Down boy, he told himself, pulling away with scarcely a taste. Hoss watched as her eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated wide in the dim light. That was his first clue the game was about to resume, and he realized they’d been so tangled up in each other they’d missed the players taking the ice for the second period, not seeing them as they tromped up the hallway right beside her seats.
A sharp rap sounded behind him, the violence of the blow against the glass surprising and loud. Twisting in his see he was face-to-face with Sammy, standing on the bench in his skates. A deep scowl furrowed his son’s brow, then Sammy’s expression lightened as he angled his head to look around Hoss towards Cassie. Shit. He hadn’t talked to Sam about seeing someone, had scarcely skimmed the surface with Faith, and seeing his old man in a liplock with a strange woman had to be unsettling for him.
Sammy’s helmet sat crookedly on his head, chinstrap not yet secured and when he gave Hoss a sharp nod, it nearly flew off. Mitt-covered hand holding it in place, Sammy mouthed the two words Hoss knew he held like treasured currency. Two words guaranteed to gain Hoss’ attention. “No lies.”
Hoss blinked.
Sammy lifted his glove to the glass and Hoss leaned back as Cassie claimed the space in front of her seat, placing her knuckles against the glass on her side. She mimed her hand blowing up and Sammy grinned crookedly. “Good game,” she whispered, and Sammy nodded as if he could hear her over the roar from the arena speakers. A coach spoke to Sammy, then a player, and they lost his attention as he turned to take his place on the bench, ready for the game to begin.
Throughout the period, Hoss caught glimpses of Sammy glancing his direction, sometimes with a studious expression, sometimes fiercely focused, but always with a half smile quirking the corner of his boy’s mouth. After the buzzer, the rest of the team was filing up
the hallway when Sammy stepped to the bench again, staring straight at Hoss. “Come see me.” Not a question from his son, this was a demand from a young man who wanted answers for what he’d seen. Sam held his gaze until Hoss nodded, then he angled his gaze towards Cassie. “Good game?” Sam arched an eyebrow and Cassie laughed.
“Yes, good game. One more period. You got this.” She put her knuckles to the glass again, and this time it was Sammy who mimed blowing something up as he brushed the glass with his glove. “Go,” she said, turning to Hoss. “See your son. I’ve had a good time. Hoss.” She leaned forwards and lifted a hand, hesitating a moment before she traced the edge of his jaw. “There’s a seat here for you anytime you want.”
“I’ll be back for the rest of the game.” She pulled in a breath, and when she would have protested, he silenced her with a finger against her lips. “I’ll be back.” Standing, he stretched and cast a glance around the arena, studying the milling crowd making their way to and from seats and sections. “Want anything, honey?”
“No, I’m good. There’s popcorn left, see?” Rattling the bucket, Cassie dipped her fingers in and withdrew a fluffy white kernel, tossing it into her mouth. “Mmmm.”
Her playfulness pulled at him, and Hoss cleared his throat gruffly as desire coiled at the base of his spine. “Okay, I’ll be back.”
In the hallway outside the team locker room, Hoss leaned his shoulders against the wall, thumbs shoved into the belt loops of his jeans. He hadn’t been waiting more than a minute when the door opened slightly, and Sammy peered out. Pushing the door wide, he gestured towards Hoss, demanding brusquely, “Come in here so I don’t get mobbed.”
As Hoss walked through the doorway, he heard a girl call, “Sammy!”
“See?” Sammy sighed and stood, ankles firm against the uncertain surface underneath his blades. “Who’s the babe, Dad?”
“Right to the point, huh?” Hoss studied Sam’s face, trying to decide if there was real anger in his expression.
“Might as well cut to the chase.” Sammy glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got about twelve minutes before I have to get my pads back on. Is this the woman Faynez has been talking about?”
“She’s been talking to you?” Hoss shook his head. “Faynez hasn’t met Cassie yet. Not officially.”
“This is the woman from the show, right? The show?” His emphasis left no question for Hoss that Faith had definitely been talking to her brother about their father’s obsession. “She’s prettier than I remember.”
“You were focused on your baby sister, son. No reason to remember her at all, other than how her path intersected with y’alls that day.” Shouting came from the locker room proper, and he glanced in that direction. “You need to get back?”
“I’ve got a few more minutes before Coach misses me.” Sam shifted restlessly. “Faynez said you’re painting her.”
“That’s not a question.”
Sam shook his head. “Nope, that’s a statement. She said you’re working a lot, and it’s good for you. Are you good, Dad?”
His son’s question went deeper than the surface of tonight, or even the past several weeks. This question harkened back to those first moments of grief, sitting side by side in the hospital’s chapel, when a much younger Sammy needed reassurance that no matter how long it took him to be ready, to be okay, Hoss would wait. “That depends. Are you good?” Sam’s eyes never wavered as he stared at Hoss. “Do you think Faynez is good? Because you two are my life, and you know it. If you aren’t good, then it doesn’t matter what I’m starting with Cassie. You come first, son.”
“God, don’t do that.” Sam’s chin jerked sideways, and Hoss watched as muscles clenched in his jaw, quivering under the strain. “Don’t do that, Dad. You don’t get to sideline your entire fucking life because you think it might hurt me or Faith.” His gaze angled across to where Hoss stood, fury seething in his eyes. “You get to have a life, you know? You get to be happy, to laugh, to want to be with someone. Faynez doesn’t remember her, but I do.” Hoss’ throat tightened and he waited for the next blow. At this rate he would leave this hallway bruised and bloody from invisible wounds. “Mom wouldn’t want you to live like you have. She loved you.”
“She did.”
“Shut up. This is my turn, and lemme tell you, what I said goes. No lies.” Hoss hushed, gaze fixed on Sam’s face, his cheeks red as his eyes glistened wetly in the overhead lights. “She loved you.” He paused. “And you love her. You’ve devoted your whole life to making sure Faith and I know that love is present and real, no matter she’s been gone for a long time. You make it so we see your love every day. Liking this woman,” Sammy’s arm flung sideways, his elbow smacking against the wall, “doesn’t reduce your love for Mom. Doesn’t cheapen it. You love me, right?” Hoss nodded, not sure he could speak. “And you love Faynez?” Hoss nodded again. “How can you love me if you love her? Isn’t that what you’re implying to me with what you said? Right? It’s what you’re asking yourself about this—” Sammy paused and swallowed before beginning again. “—Cassie. If you love Mom, how can you contemplate something with someone else?” Sammy leaned forwards. “If you learned one lesson from Mom dying like she did, it should be to grab life with both hands, Daddy.” The use of Sammy’s childhood name for him made Hoss’ chest hitch. Words another man had flung at him long ago stirred in his memories. “Grab life and live it. You like her, I could see that.” Sammy sniffed and then shrugged as he barked a broken laugh. “Half the team saw how much you like her. So, if you like her—” He glared at Hoss. “—then give it a chance, Dad. Believe in love again, take a chance. Show Faynez that love doesn’t have to be painful, that love can be good and sweet and so unbelievably beautiful. Show her what you and Mom showed me. That family means love, but a lover means a whole other level.”
Hoss pushed off the wall and took a step towards Sammy, who shoved against the surface behind him and met Hoss halfway, chests colliding with a smack. “You know how much I love you? How proud of you I am?”
“I do. I really do, Daddy. Because you show me every time you look at me.” Another shout, this of Sam’s name pulled them apart, and Hoss found himself wishing for another few minutes. His son’s hand rested heavy on his shoulder. “I gotta go.” Hoss stared at him, watching as Sammy settled his game face into place, expression freezing into a stern visage. “You’ll be back behind the bench?”
“Yeah, I told Cassie I’d be back.”
“I can take Faynez home after the game and stay with her, if you want.” Sam offered as he stepped away. “I don’t get to harass her nearly enough these days. Plus, you’ve got that sweet bathtub for me to soak in. Gonna be a bruiser this last period. Don’t flinch, Dad.”
“I won’t.” He lied, because he still flinched at all of Sam’s fights. “See you tomorrow, then?”
“Sure. Hey, you should bring Cassie for breakfast.”
“Maybe I’ll do that.” Hoss paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Love you, son. Go get ’em, yeah?”
“Hell, yeah.”
***
Cassie
Movement to the side pulled her attention, and she recognized the player standing in the locker room hallway as Sam Rogers, Hoss’ son. The angle of the stadium seating meant he was a bit below her, but she ducked down. There was a slight gap in the glass and he stared at her through the space. He moved closer, projecting his voice through the opening. “Hey.”
“Hi.” Cassie didn’t know what else to say, didn’t know what he wanted with her.
“Dad likes you.” Cassie blinked. “You like him?” She nodded. “Good.” He paused and glanced at the clock in the arena, then back at her. “Be good to him.”
Cassie opened her mouth to respond, but the announcer took up the microphone at that instant, talking about sponsors and upcoming games. Sam grinned, mouthguard gripped between his teeth as he stepped back and moved to his place in the lineup. He said something, and suddenly every player’s eyes
turned to her and there was a growing shout coming from the tunnel. As they filed out, the team did something they’d never done before, each player tapped the glass beside her seat with their sticks, the rapid tattoo of blows sounding like applause as they ran past her towards the ice.
***
Hoss
“I still don’t understand how you can bear it.” Cassie climbed out of the truck, staring at him through the open cab. “The other guy was pounding him.”
“Sam can go toe-to-toe with nearly anybody.” He pocketed the keys and shut the driver door. “As long as he’s not the one on the bottom when they hit the ice, I’ve learned to be okay with it. He plays hockey. Fights are part of the sport. I worry about his head, but he’s never had a confirmed concussion. At least not yet. Bruises fade, cuts heal. Brains?” For a moment, he had a scent memory of antiseptic, but it was gone within a breath. He shrugged. “Brains are fragile things.”
She came around the front of the truck and reached for his hand.
Hoss studied her face, wondering what the somber expression was for.
“I’m sorry she died.” Cassie gasped a moment after she spoke, and he relaxed his suddenly inflexible grip on her fingers, gently rubbing them between his own.
“I am, too.” Hoss heard the pain in his voice and shook his head. “You won’t ever hear me say anything different, Cassie. But that doesn’t mean what I’m feeling for you is less than what I had before. I love her, but life didn’t work out so I got to keep her. I didn’t, and she’s gone. Doesn’t mean I love her less, and it doesn’t mean I love her more.” He glanced around and tugged her hand, pulling her close. “Come on, baby. Let’s go inside.”
She leaned against him as they walked towards her front door. “You can talk to me, you know.” She had her phone out and tapped a button on her security program. He heard the lock click as he reached for the knob. “You’ve been there for me, no matter what.” They were in her foyer and he pushed the door closed, waiting to hear the lock reengage. “I know I don’t seem strong, but you don’t have to worry about hurting me, Hoss.”
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