All the Right Moves(30)

“Not to me. Why?”

“I noticed a couple of retired lifers in the group. Those guys aren’t always happy to share their space with officers.”

“The retirees aren’t the problem,” she said. “It’s the others who came back wounded. Not all of them, just the guys looking for someone to blame. I can’t pretend I understand what they went through, but I get that it’s easier to be angry than frightened.”

“Including your brother?”

“He was wounded in Iraq,” she said quietly, and rinsed the last of the utensils.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s fine.” She unplugged the sink and turned around to wipe her hands. “You’ve probably heard Tommy’s story a hundred times. An IED took out half his unit and part of his leg. But he’s lucky. He has Lisa, who loves him even though he can be a complete ass, and he has the bar. It’s not exactly a gold mine, despite the name, but it generates a few bucks and allows him to be his own boss. Which, if you knew my brother, is a major advantage because his attitude sucks and he never shows up when he’s supposed to. He was fitted with a new prosthetic a few weeks ago—did I already tell you?”

She frowned, trying to remember. “No, when could I have done that...? Anyway, the first one had been a bear for him, he won’t even give this one a fair chance. He could have a pretty normal life. But nooo...he’d rather bitch and moan about how it doesn’t feel right. Now, when I see him coming through the door in his old wheelchair, I could just throw—”

She drew in a quick breath, startled at how she’d gone off, ranting like a lunatic. It unsettled her that she’d been staring at John but not really seeing him. She did now, and she felt foolish. Maybe she should’ve found comfort in his sympathetic brown eyes, but she had no business talking about Tommy. God, she didn’t really know John. This wasn’t like her.

“Aren’t you glad you asked?” she muttered, pushing her hands through her hair and fixing her gaze on the countertop.

“Yeah, I am.” His voice seemed closer, and she dared to slide him a look. He’d left the stool and was coming toward her. “You forgot something.”

“What?”

“Tommy has you.”

“Does that go in the plus or minus column?”

John put his arms around her. “I assume that’s rhetorical.”

“Not really. I should be helping him to live an independent life instead of enabling him.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his chest under her palms, his arms around her back. “Technically I’m the one who’ll be leaving, but he has to be able to stand on his own.”

“Do you think he can?”

“I know he can, but he doesn’t believe it. I think he’s in denial about me leaving after school.”

“Good thing he has Lisa.” John tucked her head under his chin and stroked her back.

“If he doesn’t blow it. She loves him, but she has her limits.” Cassie didn’t know John well enough to feel this safe and content with her cheek pressed to his heart. If anything she should feel guilty for not shutting up. But she hadn’t realized how much she’d bottled up and it felt good to unload. There was only so much she could say to Lisa. For as long as she’d known Gordon and Spider and some of the others, Cassie would never have this conversation with one of them.

Sadly, she couldn’t even discuss Tommy with her parents. They cared, of course, but in an odd, detached way. She’d never really understood them. Other than the fact that they put each other first, and she and Tommy came second. It wasn’t a guess. When Cassie was ten, her mother had come out and said as much.

“When the time comes, will you be ready to cut the strings?” John asked, his breath stirring her hair.

“Absolutely.” She looked up at him. “I hope.”

“Luckily, today you don’t have to think about that. But you do have to study.”

“Here I was thinking we could’ve spent all this time kissing.” Her stomach did a flip-flop at his strained smile. Had she ruined everything by complaining about Tommy?

John left her at the counter. While she finished straightening the rest of the kitchen, he quizzed her. He kept their focus narrow, and kissed her only once more. On the cheek, on his way out the door.





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