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 s
ee 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.”
He swept her into his arms, turning so her back was against the door. “Baby, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.” She stared up at him, lips parted in such a sweet invitation he dipped for a quick taste, kissing her gently. “Hope’s been gone a long time. I won’t lie to you. There are times when it still hurts like it just happened. Mostly though, me and the kids have built on what she and I started, and the days are filled with joy. Having you with me tonight, that brought me another piece of joy. Did you know she and I sat in that row before?” Cassie’s head swung back and forth, her eyes wide. “Yeah. We’d just gotten back together after…well, just let me say she wasn’t wrong in holding my feet to the fire on that one. Anyway, we were at a game and Coach Spencer was pretending to be a stick boy.” He chuckled at the description because Jase would have his nuts for calling him that. “Sammy was little, but so enamored of the game already. You could see him catch fire watching the players. He used that little gap in the glass to chat with some of them. I didn’t know anything about hockey other than I liked to watch a game now and again. He was so puzzled when I couldn’t answer his questions. That boy.” He paused and rolled his eyes. “So, that row holds special memories.” He kissed her again. “New and old.”
Cassie rolled up onto her toes, chasing his mouth when he would have pulled away. Giving into her was easy, letting her take the lead felt as natural as breathing. I want whatever she’ll give me. Her hand at the nape of his neck pulled her closer, and he obliged by wrapping an arm tightly around her back. Nails scraped through his hair, and she nipped his bottom lip before pulling back with a giggle. “We have memories in my house, too.”
Lips to the edge of her jaw, he kissed his way towards her ear, pulling her lobe in with a hard suck. “We do,” he agreed, before drawing his lips down her neck in a line.
“Wanna make more?” Her voice was breathy, and he made her gasp at the end of the question when he rucked up her shirt and stroked the bare skin of her side with a hand. “Better ones?”
“Oh, I dunno.” He nosed his way across the breadth of her shoulder, pushing fabric out of the way of his mouth. “I’ve got some pretty good ones in here already.” Trailing along her collarbone with his tongue, he sought out her lips again. “You think there’re better ones in store?”
“Oh, I know there are,” she murmured against his lips.
“Where are those better memories?” Delving into her mouth, he slipped his tongue past hers, exploring deeper, pleased when she engaged. Not passive, she was ready to show him how much she wanted this, too.
“Upstairs, in my bedroom.” She moved in his arms, pressing tightly to him as she dipped her head, mouth against the base of his throat. “Just waiting for us.”
“Shall we?” He lifted her and started for the stairs, smiling when she wrapped her arms around his neck. This was rapidly becoming his favorite way to carry her, leaving her free to caress and tease as she wanted.
“Oh, we shall.” The sting of her teeth on the side of his neck caused him to curse and hold her tighter. Her giggle was bright and cut through the air like a blade, paving the way for his laughter. “Take me to bed, Hoss.”
Standing beside her bed, Hoss let her slowly slide down his front until their mouths were aligned. He tightened his hold on her again and covered her lips with his, angling his
head to get closer, take the caress deeper. She moaned, and he loosened his grip, following her mouth down as she got her feet under her. He undressed her with care, easily working around her hands on his clothing as if they’d done this a thousand times. Each inch of flesh uncovered made him want more, and more, until they were both bare to the other. He wasn’t worried about what she’d think about him, over the past weeks he’d caught her admiring eyes on him often enough it wasn’t a concern. Making love to her without triggering a panic attack, that was what had him on edge.
Then, as Cassie seemed to do around him, she surprised him by taking the initiative by pushing him backwards to sit on the edge of the bed. She folded her legs elegantly underneath her bottom and lined her mouth up with his cock, gaze angled up to his face. Her hands rested on his thighs, fingers ruffling the fine hair there.
“You wanna suck me, babe?” Expression solemn, she nodded, the dip of her chin nearly grazing his rising erection. He pressed down on the shaft with one thumb, bringing the head to her lips and she lapped at the tip. Warmth and the grazing touch of her tongue made his balls begin to draw up. Then she shifted and took his crown between her lips, into what felt like a furnace of wet heat. “God,” he groaned. She worked him over, tongue never ceasing movement, alternating the gentle caress with hard, cheek-hollowing sucks that threatened to strip him of any semblance of control.
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