All the Right Moves(5)
“How come it only chafes when you’re feeling sorry for yourself?” Cassie held his gaze.
“Go practice your psychology bullshit on someone else.” He cursed under his breath.
Lisa turned and gave him another sour look before going to check on her tables.
“What’s her problem?”
“Gee, I don’t have to be a psychologist to figure that one out.” Cassie went back behind the bar before she said something she regretted. Part of this was her fault. She’d coddled him too much in the beginning. And when he’d bought the bar, she’d taken on the lion’s share of the responsibility, hoping like hell he’d find his strength in building something of his own. But it had been two years now, and he was still depressed, still stubbornly refusing medication or continued therapy. Unfortunately, she knew all too well that he needed to want to get better. If Lisa, who’d stuck with him through the worst of times, couldn’t get him there, what chance did Cassie have?
“You gonna pour me a beer while I go change this shirt?” He gave her a small smile, half apology, half don’t-be-mad-at-me.
That was the trouble. Maybe if she stayed angry with him long enough for him to grow up, get some counseling, they’d both be better off. He knew she had exams. He should’ve been prepared to cover for her tonight so she could study. But that wouldn’t happen. Not with him in the chair. Instead he’d spend the evening hiding from life and throwing darts with his friends.
And she’d pretend everything was going to be okay. “Yeah, I’ll get your beer.” She reached for a mug, watched him start to wheel away and decided not to let him off scot-free. “I’ll have Lisa bring it to you.”
He hesitated, his gloved hands still on the wheel rims, then without looking back, he shoved off, continuing toward the pool tables.
God, it made her sad to see him sitting in that damn chair. He should be upright, walking, doing things he hadn’t been able to do for two years. He hated the limp, but jeez, he was so lucky. He was alive. He was his own boss, he had people who cared about him. Although she’d never had to face anything that huge, so...
She streamed beer from the tap into his mug as Lisa came up to the bar. She looked defeated. Sad. If she gave up on Tom for good, Cassie wouldn’t blame her. Not even a little.
“Gordon wants another gin and tonic.” Lisa sagged against the bar. “Two more drafts for Mickey and Leroy, with shots.”
“My brother’s a first-class jerk.”
“Yes, he is.”
“Mind taking him his beer?”
“Can’t promise I won’t dump it over his head.”
Cassie smiled. “Might do him some good.”
“Sure couldn’t hurt.” The door opened and they both turned. “Holy...shit,” Lisa murmured. “Ever see him before?”
Cassie shook her head and quickly looked away. Tall, maybe six feet, dark hair slightly longer than a military cut, great body—the guy was too hot for his own good, and she wasn’t about to be one of those silly women who stared.
From her peripheral vision, she saw him take a seat at the end of the bar. She turned her head for just another quick peek and met his whiskey-brown eyes.
2
“A FLYBOY, HUH?”
“Yep.” Cassie concentrated on the gin and tonic she was making, but almost forgot the lime wedge.
“What do you think, a captain? Major?”
“Captain.”
“Fast movers?”
“Please.” Cassie snorted. “Any doubt?”
“He won’t stick around long.”
“Nope.
“A damn shame.” Lisa was trying to be inconspicuous and failing. “I could stare at him all night.”
“You’re off to a good start,” Cassie murmured quietly, then darted him a look. “I’ll be right with you.”
“Take your time.”
“Oh, my God, that smile, that voice.” Lisa sighed.
Cassie had turned away so fast she’d missed the smile. “So much for Tommy.”
“Screw him.”
“Don’t blame you there. Go take Flyboy’s order if you want. I’ll finish your drinks.”
“You sure?”
“Go for it.”
Lisa glanced toward the back. “Then I’ll take Tommy his beer. If he comes looking for it, he might scare off the best-looking customer we’ve had in six months.”