“Be a fucking lion,” she whispered. “Become the person you want to see in the mirror.” Rocking her head back and forth, she stretched her neck, settling back into place before saying, “Color outside the lines.” Tipping her head back, she told the ceiling, “Take back your power. They get nothing.”
Opening her eyes, she glanced towards the sign over the door, but her gaze stuttered and locked at the sight of the man standing in the doorway. With one shoulder propped against the frame, he was watching her, the line of his mouth stern and tight, lips pale where they pressed together. Hoss. Wearing only his jeans, he straightened and began to pad towards her. Her belly quivered and Cassie flicked her gaze up at the sign over the door and finished the ritual by reading the words aloud, her voice scarcely a whisper, “Actually, I just woke up one day and decided I didn’t want to feel like that anymore, or ever again. So I changed. Just like that.”
He stopped in front of her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Slowly he reached out, his leisurely movements giving her every chance to avoid the touch if she wanted. She stayed in place waiting until his palm settled against her cheek and then she leaned into him, the heat and touch, all his wealth of caring transformed into a physical expression of support. At her subtle surrender, his mouth curved, finally, and he bent to brush his lips over hers.
“Mornin’, darlin’.” His drawl was more pronounced this early, and she felt her lips tip into a small smile.
***
“Tell me again what process you go through to determine the supporting pieces you use to accent the main art?” Hoss’ demanding voice came from behind her where he sat on the couch.
Feet planted, she twisted in place to look at him, knowing she was scowling and not giving a damn how it looked on her face. “I don’t know. Didn’t I already tell you that? I don’t know, I just do. I look at the painting or drawing and I just do.”
“So, what do you think this one needs?”
“I don’t know. I can’t focus because someone is talking.”
“So you need quiet to do this?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never not had quiet in my house, so I don’t know.”
“You’re sayin’ you want me to shut up?”
“No, I’m not saying that. You’re saying that. I’m just not disagreeing.”
His laughter startled Cassie and she turned away, not wanting to see it since she knew how memories could become twisted. She wanted to experience it, like she had when he called her name last night and she’d felt it, so she closed her eyes now, soaking in the emotion flooding through the room. Happy. Relaxed. Strong. Opening her eyes, she looked at the painting of his dead wife and smiled, filled with a sudden knowing.
She turned and walked fast, moving through the house to her photo albums. Picking up the top one, she flipped through until she found what she wanted. Carrying the image in one hand, she went to a nearby bookshelf and thumbed the spines on the bottom shelf until she found a specific art book. A return to the photo albums had her placing one on top of the book, then Cassie grabbed her tablet on her way past the dining room table. When she got back to the living room, Hoss stood, but immediately moved further away, giving her space.
On her knees, she flipped through the album, fingertips pausing over first one picture then another, discarding them mentally as she continued to move through the pages. There. She pulled one picture from the album, and then two pages later, another. She almost closed it, but then quickly flipped towards the back, removing a final snapshot from the album.
Artbook next, she performed the same actions, flipping and hovering, then moving on. Finally, she found what fit, what worked, and she carefully ripped one picture out of the book. Then another.
Tablet in hand, she settled back onto her heels, glancing up at the painting from that supplicant’s position as she looked at images on the screen. Two hours later, she had placed half a dozen orders for various items, as well as prints of the things she had found in the book, and frames for her family photos.
Ass on the floor, she leaned against the couch and stared at the painting. Her eyes traced the profile of the woman Hoss had loved and lost, a strong measure of his love shining through this picture, and as with all of them, the emotion brought to life so bright it was blinding. She knew the story, had read a hundred accounts of how she died, the tragedy of her short life, and the gift she had given him. Faith. Their daughter.
“Show me,” he whispered, and without looking up at him, she turned the tablet over. The software was active and showed the painting and arrangement she intended to use with the other things she bought. “Beautiful.” His voice so soft and loving, she expected him to be looking up at the painting, at his wife, but when she turned to face him…he was looking at her. “My gorgeous gal.”
About damn time
Hoss
“Box tonight, baby girl,” Hoss said through his shirt as he pulled it on, juggling his phone and keys as he dressed. They were getting ready for Sammy’s game. It had been two days since he had seen Cassie, and he hoped to break that streak tonight. This was after spending three full days at her house before leaving to come home and relieve Jase and DeeDee’s daughter Gilda from her friend-sitting of his Faith. I miss her.
As Gilda had walked out to her car, headed back to campus in Muncie, she’d raised a hand and pulled a laugh from both father and daughter when she said, “Bu-bye, Hoth.” He had known the girl her whole life, and often teased her about how she’d lisped his name when younger. Hearing that reminder of their shared lives and memories, all built through longevity, had pulled his throat tight. Now, just remembering that moment, he knew the smile slipped from his face as he walked through the house.
“Dad?” Faith called from in front of him, and he stopped, the echoes of his footsteps fading quickly.
“It’s okay, Faynez. Just had a moment.” These flashes when the loss of Hope would sweep over him and darken his mood still happened. Not as often as before, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He hated reminders of what he and the kids had lost, while contradictorily still wanting them to continue. It boiled down to him not wanting to lose any part of Hope. Even grief due to her death had always been a way to keep her with him.
Faith’s voice was soft when she asked, “Did you and Uncle Tug have a good dinner? I haven’t seen you much since then. Uncle Tug behave himself?” His baby girl knew his moods, probably better than he did himself, and she knew if she could get him talking about spending time with friends, it would help lift the threatening shadows.
He made a decision. Time to test the waters. “You remember the woman from the show?”
“Yeah.”
“Saw her out riding a few weeks ago.” Twisting in place, he watched as first joy and then a look of caution flashed across Faith’s face. “Turns out she bought a bike from our shop. I found out your Uncle Tug had been teaching her to ride.” Now Faith’s expression was confused but pleased, and he nodded, laughing. “Yeah, he never said anything. He didn’t have any way of knowing who she was. Just being the nice guy, helping out a damsel in distress.”
“Uncle Tug is hilarious. Him and Aunt Maggie are both awesome like that.”
“Yeah. For an old bastard, he’s pretty decent.” Hoss laughed. “I saw her, rolled the guys after her, and we pulled her into our column.” At that statement, Faith’s eyes got round and he nodded again. “Yeah, wasn’t thinkin’ very clearly, or I’d have seen how that might be a tad bit…intimidating.”
“Ya think, Dad?” She shook her head, then asked, “How’d she handle it?” Faith knew how to ride, but beyond the basic skills had no interest in it other than sitting pretty on the back of someone else’s bike, which she enjoyed. But she’d been on enough runs that she knew how frightened people could get when a mass of bikes rolled up beside them.
“Champ. All the way. Total champ.”
She smiled broadly, her pleasure in someone else’s achievement marking the
kind of woman he knew she was growing up to be. “Proud of you, Faynez,” he said gently and watched her face change, soften. “I don’t tell you enough, but I am, baby doll. Proud of you.” Taking a breath, he continued sharing, “Had opportunity to sit a meal with her.” He’d only gone out for one meal recently, and she’d already referenced it, so Hoss knew his girl would put two and two together.
“She knows you painted her?”
“No, didn’t come up. I just told you I sat a meal with her.”
“But, then you didn’t come home.”
Fuck but his girl was quick to put two and two together. “No, I didn’t. That bother you?”
“No.” Stated emphatically, she left no room for interpretation. If he wanted to dig into this with Cassie right now, Faith was a hundred percent okay with it.
“Gonna explore this with her.” Not quite a warning, but he knew Faith would take his meaning, and she did.
“I’m glad you are.” And she was. The honesty of her words was written in the soft expression on her face.
“Means she’ll be around some.” Faith nodded. “Baby, she’s had a hard time of it. She’s got some—” He drew a blank for what to say next, then settled for something other than Tamara’s word. “—unusual challenges.” Tipping her head to one side in a motion that was all Hope, his Faith silently urged him on. “She has anxiety attacks, so she doesn’t go out much. Doesn’t feel comfortable around a lot of people, means it’s hard to earn her trust.”
“But she trusts you?”
“Yeah, seems to. Which is a good thing for your old man.”
“You want me to meet her?” That was Hope all over, and a feeling of grace swelled inside him. Faith was her mother through and through, standing here offering him what he needed.
“God, Faynez. Sometimes you are exactly like your mother.” Faith startled and then smiled slowly. He’d surprised and pleased her with that. He repeated his earlier words. “So proud of you, honey. Honored to be your father. And yeah, eventually, I want you to meet her. Cassie means a lot to me.”
“Then I’ll meet her when you think the time is right. She makes you happy, Daddy. I told Sammy—” Faith scowled and shook her head. He knew she hadn’t meant to let that slip. Hoss understood his kids worried about him, but they tried to keep any machinations on the down low, usually.
“What’d you tell Sam?”
“That you were working. That you were engaged in things again. That you were smiling and humming and just…happy, Daddy. I told him whoever the woman was you were drawing, she made you happy.”
“Good eye.” Hoss waited, and Faith gave him a trembling smile. “Now, we’re in the box tonight, so I want you to behave.”
“Dad.” She rolled her eyes. “When do I ever not behave?”
He gestured towards the door to the garage, letting Faith move in front of him. They were down the two steps and beside the truck when he dropped the hammer on her hopes. “When you eyeball Jonny like you want to climb him like a tree. You are not nearly old enough to be running after a boy like that, Faynez.” Her gasp made him grin. “Thought you had a secret, huh?”
“Dad.” Faith’s exasperation was clear in her tone, his name gaining several syllables in how she drew it out.
“I remember the day you were set on marrying Garrett in Uncle Mason’s living room.” Hoss angled his head so she couldn’t see his smile as he folded into the truck and jammed the keys into the ignition. “You swapping your allegiance, honey? Poor boy’s gonna be devastated.”
“God.” She huffed as she threw herself into the seat next to him, already digging in her back pocket for her phone. “Kill me now.”
“Not sayin’ Jonny’s a better bet than Garrett. Boy’s good, but he’s older, honey. Life’s changed for him over the past couple of years. I’m also not sayin’ Gar’s a better bet than Jon-boy, either. Both boys are good, I’ll give you that.” He opened the garage door and twisted the keys. Shifting smoothly to pull out of the garage, Hoss glanced at Faith, catching a glimpse of her bright red face. She’s really embarrassed. It was time to cut her some slack. “But, my girl deserves the best. So…” He changed topics, giving her a chance to regain her composure. “Who are we playing tonight?”
***
Hoss kept his binoculars trained across the rink, following Cassie’s every move. It was near the end of the first period, and she’d seemed settled, eager to watch the team skate. He hadn’t told her he would be in the arena tonight, hadn’t mentioned the club kept a box, so she wasn’t watching for him.
He grinned when she lifted a hand, fingers curled into a fist so she could give a knuckle-pound to some of the boys as they came off the ice. A pane of heavy plastic separated them, but that didn’t seem to dilute her pleasure. There was an empty seat beside her that called to him and he glanced at the clock. Four minutes left in the period could be upwards of fifteen or more with penalties, so he likely had time to hit up a concession stand on his way over if he wanted. You’ve already decided to go, old man. Just go already.
“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 dur
ing 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?”
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