4. Chapter 4
four
T he first thing Cassie did, after leaving the supper table, was look around for her new crush.
It didn’t take long to find him, since he was as big as T-Bear and Moke. But, he was cut in a way that they were not.
However, she stopped in her tracks as he turned his back to her, highlighting the garment he wore over his dress shirt and charcoal slacks—a black leather vest with the Devil’s Flyers logo emblazoned on the back.
His cut. If he’d been less amazing, she would’ve turned away right then. Because, as Cassie had told Connor earlier, she wasn’t interested in a relationship with a Flyer.
But, he was so-oo hawt. Thus, she hesitated for only a moment before she drained her glass and rose.
And as she watched, she saw him moving to the music–nice.
Anyway, it wasn't like she wanted to date him--she just wanted to dance. Dierks Bentley's 'What Was I Thinkin’ was blasting over the clubhouse's excellent speakers, and her toes were tappin'.
She fluffed the long side of her hair with her fingers, straightened her top, and made her way through the crowd to his side.
He was laughing at something Rocker, the club veep had said. They were a panty-melting pair. Rocker might be twenty years older than her, but he was still hawt. Tall, dark and with silver in his 'stache and short beard, and a wicked smile that she was pretty sure had dropped more than his share of panties over the years, before he met his old lady, Billie.
As she stopped beside them, Rocker gave her a wink. "Hey there, Miss Cassie. Havin' a good time?"
She smiled back at the veep, on whom she'd had a fan-girl crush since she was about ten years old. "I am, thanks. You?"
He nodded. "Oh, yeah. Your dad and stepmom know how to celebrate their wedding."
The pleasantries exchanged, Cassie turned to the other man, who was also grinning down at her. "Hey," she said, her voice cracking in the middle of the word. "I'm Cassie."
He gave her a chin lift, his eyes twinkling under straight, thick brows and long lashes. This close, they were light hazel. "I'm Heavy,” he said in a deep voice. “Nice to meetcha, Cassie."
Heavy—what a perfect road name for this guy. He looked like he could pick up humongous objects with ease.
She bounced on her toes in sheer excitement. "Wanna dance?"
He blinked as if he’d not been expecting this from her, but did not lose his smile as he tipped his head as if noting the music, then lifted his brows at her. "You know how to jitterbug?"
"Oh my God, yes!" she crowed. He looked like this and he could dance her favorite dance?
Heavy set his beer glass down on the bar, and gave that chin lift to Rocker. The veep shook his head, still grinning. "You kids have fun."
Heavy snorted a laugh, and then held out an arm for Cassie to precede him to the open area that had been formed in the middle of the room by shoving tables aside. Her insides bubbling with glee, she hustled through the crowded tables.
Her dad’s table was by the dance floor. He and Rae looked up as she passed them. Her dad winked at her and RaeAnn smiled and gave her a little finger-wave, which Cassie returned.
Then she reached to take Heavy's outstretched hands, and forgot about everyone else in the clubhouse.
His hands swallowed hers, warm and calloused, his grip gentle. Aw, so sweet, like he was worried about crushing her. Made her want to snuggle up to him and purr like a kitty.
She followed his lead and they moved smoothly into the steps, back and forth, sideways and circling, with her swirling under his long arm and laughing as she came back, her back to his front and side-step, side-step and back out again.
She may as well have been dancing on air, her feet were so light. God, she loved big guys that were strong enough to really pull against and swoop her back in.
When she came in close, she caught his scent, all warm, healthy man with a tinge of some cologne. Sandalwood maybe? Whatever it was, it made her insides melt in a hot puddle between her thighs. Made her want to climb him like a tall tree.
But all too soon, the dance ended, and the other dancers separated, some standing to chat, some drifting back to their chairs.
Cassie looked up at her partner, hoping he'd suggest they stay and dance the next one, whatever it might be.
But he was giving her another of those chin lifts, and letting go her hands, leaving her adrift like a little skiff with no anchor. "Thanks," he said. “You’re a good dancer.”
"You too," she replied, her voice breathy. And watched him walk away--a mistake on her part, because the back view was as good as the front. He didn't walk, he sauntered with the total confidence of a virile male in top condition. One who could take on anything or anyone who accosted him, and come out the victor.
Cassie sighed, then realized with a start that she was standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by people who knew her, and some were watching her.
Della, Rav’s old lady, who wasn’t much older than Cassie herself, grinned at her and fanned herself in the universal ‘he’s hawt!’ signal. Cassie blushed but smiled back because Della was nice.
Unlike Darlene and her man Snake, who were smirking at Cassie the way they would at a kid being awkward.
Luckily, Cassie’s dad rescued her, by appearing at her elbow and holding out his hands. "Hey, any chance of a dad-daughter dance?"
She smiled back at him. "Aw, sure, daddy."
They danced to Brooks and Dunn's 'Little Miss Honky Tonk', both laughing at the words and mugging fancy steps.
"You've learned some moves since you used to dance on the tops of your old man's feet," he told her at the end of the song, giving her a hug.
She hugged him back. "Yeah, they let me into the bars now, so I can practice."
He winced as they turned to make their way through the other dancers. "Don't remind me. Those places are full of guys with one thing on their minds. Gettin' up too damn close and personal with my little girl."
Cassie rolled her eyes. "Like this place isn't full of guys like that?"
Cooler's eyes narrowed. "Good point. No more dancing with the single guys. Stick with the old married brothers."
She laughed. "Not happening, Daddy."
"Tryin' to ruin my big night?"
She shook her head at him. "If you delivering a baby in the middle of it didn't ruin things, I don't think me dancing is going to, either."
Her father sighed reminiscently. "You'd be surprised how well I remember when you were that messy little bundle of joy squirting out into the world, all wide eyes and wonder."
She patted his chest over the baby-soft leather of his cut. "Right. But that was 22 years ago, so you can relax. I know what I'm doing."
He snorted, giving her a look that said how little he believed that.
"Okay," she added, wrinkling her nose. "Most of the time I do?"
"Say maybe half the time and I'll believe you, ‘cause I remember bein’ your age, too." He patted her back. "Thanks for the dance, baby girl. Now be good."
Cassie sighed to herself as she made her way off the dance floor. She'd like to be bad, very bad, but fat chance of that with all her dad's nosy brothers and their equally nosy wives watching her every move.
Even Mister Hottie-with-the-Body was a Flyer. So he may have already had the ‘she’s off-limits’ talk.
Damn. She needed another drink.
Heavy wasn’t ever getting married himself.
But he’d suffered through a few weddings of friends in his time, and this was by far the best of the bunch. A short ceremony with a few chuckles included, in a relaxed atmosphere, followed by the kind of awesome barbecue buffet supper only the Flyer old ladies could provide, and then some dancing for those who chose.
When he’d prospected with the Flyers in Seattle, the club president, Sound Whitaker, had an old lady who owned a bar, the kind with just enough room for a refurbished jukebox and a few couples to get up and enjoy moving to it.
As a prospect, a hopeful member working to prove his loyalty and worth to the club, one of Heavy’s jobs had been working as bouncer there. Sound’s old lady had seen him watching the dancers, and told him he needed to learn how, that women loved it, and that it would make him lighter on his feet, an advantage for a guy his size.
So he’d learned, and she was right. Also, to his surprise, he loved dancing. Only thing better than swinging his partner around in perfect rhythm in a jitterbug, or doing a fast Texas two-step across a slick floor, was sex. And dancing, with all the touching, moving in rhythm, and eye contact involved, was a great lead-in to sex, so win-win.
After he ate his share of the wedding supper–two platefuls, because the food was that good, he had a dance with the bride, who was a real nice woman, and pretty. Cooler was lucky to have finally grabbed RaeAnn for good.
Being around his brothers and their old ladies was almost enough to make him believe long-term relationships could work.
But make that a hard 'almost' because he'd spent his growing-up years watching a relationship not work, in the worst kind of way.
As far as he could remember, his own father and his string of hookups had lived on one end of the Seacrest Mobile Home Park in Tacoma, his mother and her boyfriends--most of them abusive jackasses just like her husband, on the other--with Heavy and his older brother and little sister bouncing between their places like pinballs.
And like pinballs, the three of them had all been bounced off of more than one hard surface, by fists or open-handed slaps, depending on who was pissed off by their presence, and their needs for food, clothing and school supplies... or even just attention.
What any of them were doing now, he didn’t know, or care. Well, except his kid sister. He hoped she was okay, but though he’d gone back home to check on her once he had a job and some money, Rosie was already in the wind. All he could do was leave his contact info with neighbors, and hope he’d hear from her.
And find a way to live with the guilt that he hadn’t somehow found a way to take her with him when he left at eighteen.
But in the now, RaeAnn smiled up at him as they two-stepped to some country singer he didn’t know.
"Better watch out," she told him. She didn't have to raise her voice, as the music hadn't been cranked up yet. Later, everyone would have to shout over the volume. "They say there's something in the water here at the clubhouse. Romance--the single guys fall, one after the other. Might be your turn next."
He grinned down at her. "Not me. I just opened a new business--don't have time for a special lady these days."
She gave him a look that said she knew darn well that as a single member of the club, he'd find time for the other kind of woman--the ones who offered a hot hookup and no expectations.
There weren't any of those around this evening, this being a wedding and thus by invitation only. But on any other Saturday night, there'd be at least a handful of young women with too much makeup and not enough clothes on, giving the brothers smiles that said they were available for damn near anything.
And hell, yeah, he'd availed himself several times since he arrived in town, and he would again. He liked sex, in fact he’d like to be having it a lot more often, but he tried not to return too often to the same club hang-arounds, so they didn’t start to expect more. That wouldn’t be fair, because when he did choose an old lady, it wouldn’t be from any of them.
Not that he judged anyone for their sexual choices, but because none of them interested him that much, beyond a quick hookup.
Thankfully, RaeAnn moved on to his favorite subject. "You must be excited to open your gym. When's the big day?"
"Saturday, eleven am. Gonna have the Hangar food cart in the parking lot serving up barbecue and pizza. Balloons and stuff for the kids, from the daycare next door. And I'll be giving tours and handing out coupons for free initial training sessions."
She raised her brows, looking impressed. "Sounds like I’d better come in. I could stand to do some weight training myself. Something besides standing at my salon chair most of the day, you know?"
"You bet," he agreed. "Women benefit from weight training. Improves muscle tone and posture, strengthens the bones, and helps lose clothing sizes without losing a single pound. And stop me now, or I'll just keep talking."
RaeAnn laughed up at him, her pretty face warm in a way that he totally got why Cooler was so into her. "It’s okay, hon. Sounds like you know your stuff. I'll give it try."
"Awesome. Come by, and I'll sign you up. You won't be sorry."
"I'm sure I won't. You must have most of the guys signed up by now. I've heard them complain about their limited weight set-up here."
Heavy grinned more widely. "Already have most of 'em in my computer system. And Flyer family gets a 25% discount."
"Nice," she approved.
“Be sure and tell your clients where you work out too,” he suggested.
“Great idea. And you know Iris Salon has a front counter, where you can place brochures, or post cards.”
Brochures and cards, around town in places where people had time to sit and peruse them–great idea. Heavy beamed down at her. “Thanks. I’ll do it.”
“You putting the moves on my wife now, kid?” Cooler appeared, giving Heavy a look that said he was only half joking.
“Huh? Oh, we were talking about the gym,” Heavy explained. “She’s gonna sign up, and she has some great ideas for–.”
Cooler held up a hand. “Later, bro. This is my wedding, and I wanna dance with my wife. Now scoot.”
“Right. Sorry.” Heavy handed the laughing bride over to her groom, and scooted.
After this, Heavy found himself in high demand as a dance partner, jitterbugging with a few more of the old ladies, and doing a fast Texas two-step with another.
Darlene batted her lashes at him and asked if he'd give dance lessons to her man Snake, then laughed uproariously at the look on his face.
“Uh, I’ll stick to coaching weights,” he told her, and headed for the bar, and another cold brew from the Hangar.
He stopped short when a short, familiar blonde flung herself at him. Her hands on his torso under his vest, Cassie Carson beamed up at him. Her face was flushed under her goofy haircut, her eyes bright, her lips parted in a sunny smile.
"Hey," she breathed. "My turn again?"
Heavy grinned down at her. She was a cute kid, but she'd clearly been keeping up with the adults on drinks. Which was none of his business, as she was in a safe place here among Flyer family. And what the hell, she was a great dancer. "Sure," he said. "Let's go."
To Brooks & Dunn’s ‘Little Miss Honky Tonk’, they hit the dance floor and moved into the fast moves of a jitterbug.
He threw in a fancy twirl and she kept right up with him, laughing breathlessly. They shared a smile of glee, and he swung her around and in, her back to his front for a few steps. She had a full, round ass that nestled into his groin and made him want to pull her closer and add some dirty dancing moves.
Then he caught a glimpse of Cooler scowling at him over his bride's shoulder. Whoa, right.
Heavy stomped on his unruly libido, hard, because number one, his dance partner was just a kid and he was not one of those dicks who got off on messing around with girls barely out of high school. Number two, she was his club brother’s daughter, and both of these made her completely out of bounds.
Thus, as the music ended, he backed away a few steps, and held her away from him, his hands on her shoulders. "Thanks, girl. See you around."
When he got back to the bar, Drew was on bar duty. He was tall and fit, with the skin of mixed racial heritage, wild brown curls springing up on his head, gauges in his ears, and a silver stud in one nostril.
Without being asked, the prospect handed Heavy a foaming glass of Hangar ale from one of the full pitchers there. With a nod of thanks, Heavy turned back to lean on the bar and watch the dancers.
Only to find Cassie before him, gazing up with a hopeful look on her flushed, pretty face. "One more dance?"
"Nah, sorry, kid. I'm done," he said, leaning back against the bar and taking a long drink. The beer was excellent, full and smooth but with a prickle that hit the back of his throat.
She pouted in disappointment, her pink lips in a bow that was at once cute as hell and irritating.
"Hey, Cassie," Drew said, leaning over the bar. And right there–problem solved.
"Prospect, dance with the lady," he ordered. He gave Drew a meaningful look, and the kid grinned. "Sure. Cassie?"
Cassie gave Heavy a dirty look, tossed her head, and beamed at Drew. "Love to, thanks."
Heavy shook his head, leaning back on his elbows on the bar as the two kids headed off to the dance floor. That girl was a handful, and she was gonna have some guy by the balls in a few years. Just wasn't gonna be him.
And, even when she did come of age, her daddy would still be meaner than a junkyard dog when threatened. Nope, Heavy was staying far away from that bloodline.
He drained his beer and set his empty glass on the bar. All the dancing had left him wanting more action with a pretty woman, up closer and with less clothing involved.
But being this was a wedding, and no club party girls on the premises, he was SOL. He sighed. It was a sad night when a biker couldn’t get any action in his own clubhouse. Might as well head back to his place.
Besides, he was a business owner now. He had to get up early tomorrow morning.
At least that was something to look forward to.