How Cassie Got Her Grind Back (9 page)

He kissed her hand and then held it to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“Will you dance with me?”

Samson scoffed at them both and said, “Just that easily you let him off while I get the silent treatment for two weeks? What the hell?”

Ivan clapped him on the back and said, “Brother, it’s a whole lot easier to apologize when your mouth isn’t stuffed full of shoe. Now if you’ll pardon me, I’m gonna go dance with a beautiful lady.”

And I don’t care if everyone knows I’m enjoying the hell out of it.

Cassie felt almost high on endorphins as she followed Ivan to the dance floor, which was odd, considering the unpleasant confrontation with Bill. But his rudeness paled in comparison to seeing Samson and Ivan again.

There was something special about Ivan and always had been. He was every bit as rugged and handsome as his brother, but there was a gentleness about him that had always made her feel safe and comforted.

Ivan’s personality wasn’t in opposition to his brother’s so much as complementary to it. Samson could be just as gentle and sweet to her, but there had been, and still was, an edginess and physicality to his presence that had always attracted Cassie, even though he’d never made an inappropriate move on her. She’d made it clear from the beginning she was waiting for marriage, and he’d respected her limit.

Besides his brother, Ivan had always been one of her favorite people, despite the fact that her father, uncles, and grandfather had been vocal in their disapproval of her dating Samson and being such close friends with two “white boys.”

She rolled her eyes, remembering her dad’s gruff intonation of those words, and how laughable the sentiment had been back then and was even more so in the present time. What saddened her, though, in the end, was that he’d succeeded in getting what he’d wanted all along: her close to home and in the clutches of family, married to a man
he
approved of—and miserable.

Ivan brought her focus back to the present, drawing her against him as they settled into the rhythm of the song the DJ was playing. “Baby Be My Love Song” by Easton Corbin.

He tucked her against him and gazed down at her. “I always thought you were gorgeous, Cassie, but you’ve only grown more beautiful with the years.”

Cassie chuckled and felt heat creep into her cheeks at his generous words. “It’s the low lighting, Ivan. The crow’s feet and lines are there.”

He shook his head and kissed her temple. “All I see is your pretty eyes. The sweet sparkle hasn’t left them, despite the years.”

“Or the miles. I’m glad you think so.”

His touch at her waist, just barely above her hip, was gentle but secure, like his grip on her hand, and he guided her around the dance floor with the same practiced ease his brother had earlier. Comforted by how easily they fit, she considered releasing his left hand and wrapping her arms around his neck and laying her head on his chest.

Some of her happiest memories revolved around spending time with Samson and his brother. They’d both played for the Divine Vikings varsity football team, and she’d played the clarinet in the Vikings marching band. Whether it was a sports- or school-related activity, lunchtime, or in classes, it didn’t matter. She’d always felt centered when they were around.

She was slightly above average in height at five eight, and Ivan and his brother were both over six feet tall, and she frankly loved the way it felt to be next to a man she could look up to, even in heels.

He stroked up and down in a light caress from her hip to her lower ribs, and she inhaled softly at the tug deep within her core, responding to his touch.

“I’m glad you and Samson were able to reconnect over the last few weeks.”

She snorted and shook her head. “It was a little bumpy, but I’m glad, too. He still has a tendency to speak his mind.”

Ivan grinned, and his chest rumbled as he chuckled. Her nipples took notice as she brushed against him in the dance. His hand slid farther around her waist and caressed up and down her spine and a wave a goose bumps flickered over her skin.

Back years ago, he’d never held her like this when they’d shared a dance, and she had to catch her breath at the way her body responded to him. She was an adult, after all, and he was all man. It was a normal physiological reaction. He’d probably be shocked if he knew she was getting wet.

She looked around wondering if anyone else was watching or noticing her rather tight nipples through the silky knit of her dress, but everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations. She caught a glimpse of Samson at the table with their friends, talking and laughing, and then he snared her gaze and smiled at her. At them.

“You okay?” Ivan asked softly, his lips so kissable and full, and only inches from hers. She nodded and looked over at their table again.

Grace was there with Jack, who was also a member of their graduating class. Ethan and Adam were likely at home or at work but no doubt looking forward to her return. Lydia was there, sitting between Chance and Clayton, laughing with Veronica Stinson, who was there with her men, Hank and Travis. These weren’t strangers to her. They were friends with histories and commitments to their ménages.

Oh boy.

If she’d met Samson and Ivan in a different time or under other circumstances that could’ve been them. She was hit again by regret that she’d ever let them go from her life, which was quickly replaced by guilt. For Joseph’s and Tamara’s sake, she couldn’t wish things were different.

“Cassie?” Ivan murmured with concern evident in his voice. “Want me to take you back to the table?”

Turning her attention back to him, she shook her head. “No. Just got distracted. I’m having a good time. I was wondering how my kids are doing.”

“Miss them?”

She nodded and then shrugged. “I’m still adjusting to them being on their own.”

“Think they might come back to Divine when they’re done with school?”

“Joseph loves Divine, so he might,” she said with a smile, “but I want him to follow his heart. Tamara is still undecided. For a while she wanted to be a massage therapist, but then she decided to enroll at Texas State. I want her to have options. There will always be a place for her here. Tell me about your work.”

He told her about the restaurant and its eccentric owner, and she loved listening to him go on about his kitchen and his staff.

“It sounds wonderful. I can just see you in your chef’s uniform with your hat and a big wooden spoon in your hand, everyone scurrying around you yelling, “Yes, Chef!” while you rule the roost from your enormous Viking stove.”

He shrugged self-effacingly and said, “It’s probably pretty mundane to most people.”

Not to someone who’s envisioning you in your underwear in front of that stove, handsome.
She inhaled sharply and choked on her own spit, and he patted her back. Where had
that
come from? Violet and her lumberjack fantasies must be influencing her—that or it was a rush of hormones.
Totally blaming the hormones. And the image of him in his briefs and chef’s hat, making me crepes!

A wave of heat washed over her, made even more intense by the crowd of people on the dance floor. Now was an awesome time for a hot flash. Simply awesome. “Maybe I’d better go get something cool to drink,” she said as she fanned herself.

“You’re a little flushed, honey. Is it a hot flash?”

She blinked and then nodded. “You know about those?”

He chuckled as he handed her his folded handkerchief and guided her back toward the table. “I’m a man of the new millennium, sweetheart. Can I get you a bottle of water or a Sprite?”

She fanned her cheeks and considered asking for a fire extinguisher. “Anything cold and non-alcoholic would be fantastic, if you don’t mind. The alcohol makes the flushing worse. They come out of nowhere just to remind me I’m past my prime.”

Why did I say that? How pathetic I must sound.

Ivan halted halfway back to the table, away from the crowd, and tipped her chin up as he gazed at her. “Past your prime? I wonder what Samson would say if he knew you felt that way.”

“But you won’t tell him, will you?”

Ivan shrugged noncommittally and gently squeezed her upper arms. “You’re not past your prime. This is your renaissance, gorgeous. It’s
your
time. And ours.”

With that, he guided her back to the table, his words echoing in her head.
Ours. Ours. Ours.

Ours, who?

Did he mean his and Samson’s? Or his, Samson’s…and hers?

* * * *

“You okay, Cassandra?” Samson asked when Ivan escorted her back to their table and helped her into a chair.

She smiled and fanned herself as she sipped from a glass of ice water. “I just got thirsty and needed to catch my breath.”

The crowd had packed the place, and he nodded as he looked around. He wanted to get her out of there so they could talk to her, but he didn’t want her to miss out on seeing their friends, like Andrew Portman, who’d flown out especially for the reunion from Orlando, Florida. Andrew had explained his wingman status while she’d been on the dance floor, and Samson hadn’t been surprised she’d stood with him when his ex-wife had arrived earlier. He also felt a little guilty she’d borne the brunt of Dorene’s ugliness without them there.

Lydia returned from the buffet line with plates laden with slices of cake, and she grinned at Cassie. “I can tell this is yours, Cassie. One of these days I’m going to convince you to tell me what your secret is.”

Cassie’s eyes sparkled at the compliment. “Thanks! Come over sometime and I’ll show you. I’m making the cake for Violet’s wedding on Saturday.”

Samson caught Ivan’s glance and frowned. “You’re busy next weekend?”

Cassandra nodded. “I stay pretty busy in the fall. But the wedding is in the early afternoon, so I should be free for the evening.” She sipped her drink, and then her gaze fluttered to his before looking away.

“Will you save that evening for us?”

“I will,” she replied, her eyes twinkling as she took another sip of her ice water.

“Ivan,” Lydia called from across the big square table. “You look familiar to me, but I’m not sure from where.”

Samson took a swig from his drink, remembering what Chance and Clayton had told him she did for a living. “You’re a chef, aren’t you, Lydia?”

Lydia nodded and then gasped and pointed to Ivan. “
Chef
!”

“Austin?” Ivan said with laughter in his voice, and she nodded and trotted around the table to him. “It’s a small world, isn’t it?” he said as he rose from his chair and hugged her back.

“I didn’t recognize you with shorter hair,” she said. “Are you still teaching?”

Ivan shook his head. “No, I wanted to get back to running a kitchen fulltime, or at least I thought I did.” He rubbed his knee, and Samson’s knee gave a sympathy twinge.

That was the first he’d heard of Ivan wanting out of the fast pace of fulltime restaurant work.

Cassandra excused herself to visit the ladies’ room, and after the conversation had moved on to other topics, Samson nudged Ivan with an elbow. “You’d consider retiring?”

Ivan leaned toward him. “Not completely, but the hours are getting old, and so is my knee.” He looked to see if Cassandra was near and added, “So is going home to a dark, empty house.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I wouldn’t consider it, except my investments are doing well. It’s a good thing Mom and Dad taught us how to manage money and not go into debt, considering the way things are nowadays.”

“Thank God. Things are good with me, too, though I don’t squeak when I walk like you do.”

“I’m not tight. I’m frugal,” Ivan said with a chuckle. “Why did you ask about me retiring? Not you too?” His brother’s expression was incredulous.

“I know. It’d drive me crazy to not have work, but the stress of the job and this knee…”

Ivan grinned. “We should rent an operating room and have a surgeon do knee replacements for both of us and get it over with together. Are you thinking of going part time?”

Samson sighed. “I don’t know. You just got me thinking.”

“Cassie looks as if she’s having a good time,” Ivan said as he cast another glance around, probably looking for her.

Samson could relate. “I enjoy watching her have fun.”

“Me, too.”

A few minutes later, a gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, and her delicate scent invaded his senses again as she said, “Grace and Jack are talking about heading over to the Dancing Pony in a little while, and I wondered if you’d like to go over there after we’re done here. Hank said he might head over with Travis and Veronica later as well, after his duties as senior class president are completed.”

Ivan got up and gave her his chair so she could sit between them. She smiled and sat down, her cheeks flushing a little at the way they angled their chairs toward her.

Samson said, “Is that what you’d like to do? Do you have to work in the morning?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m old school. Divine Drip is closed on Sundays so my employees can go to church and have time with their families. And I need a day off, too. One day a week people can make their own coffee.”