Page 22 of Hounds Ascend
It doesn’t take me long to shower. I’m now standing in the mirror in my bra and underwear trying to figure out what to do with my hair. I can’t do anything cute with it because my helmet will just fuck it up, but I don’t want it to look like I put in no effort at all either.
I decide to simply blow-dry it and put it in a ponytail. Not the best thing, but hey, I don’t have much of a choice. Now to figure out what I’m going to wear. I pop my head out of the bathroom door.
“Hey, babe?” I call out.
“Yeah?”
“Where are we going to eat?”
“To a barbecue joint down the road. They have a live band and it’s an open patio type place. Why?”
“I was just checking so I knew what to wear.”
“Wear whatever is comfortable, baby.”
I smile at his answer. He’s one of the most indifferent men I’ve ever met. Most of the men I’ve had in my life before him would dictate, more or less, what I needed to wear and no matter what I wore it was never quite up to their standards. With Cass, though, whatever I walk out in is always fine with him.
Good thing, too, because my options for what to wear are limited. I rummage through the bag Cass set in the bathroomfor me. Out of the three tops I have, I decide on the blue t-shirt. I don’t think sweatpants are appropriate to wear to dinner so the one and only pair of jeans I have with me is going to have to work. I apply a little bit of make-up. Powder, blush, and mascara. I’m not going all out. I step out of the bathroom to find Cass sprawled across the bed. He’s lying on his stomach with his head tilted to the side, shirtless with his jeans and boots still on.
His cell phone is in his hand and he’s snoring. I sit down next to him, rubbing his back gently.
“Hey, you.”
“Hi,” he whispers.
“Are you going to wake up so we can go meet your dad?” I ask.
“Yep. I’m up. I just have to put on a shirt and I’m ready.”
He reaches inside the small black bag beside the bed and retrieves a Hounds t-shirt from it. He keeps it in one of his saddle bags and has multiple t-shirts rolled neatly inside along with socks and jeans. I’m astonished at how well he conserved space.
Cass runs his hands under the sink in the bathroom then runs them through his hair, smoothing out the few stray pieces that were going in different directions. Minimal effort, but sexy as hell as a result. I wrap my arms around his waist tip-toeing to rest my head on his shoulder.
“Can I help you?” he asks, clearly amused by the smirk on his face.
“Nope. Continue what you were doing. Don’t mind me.” I smile at him as our eyes meet in the mirror.
His arms are lifted just high enough that it makes his shirt ride up and I can see that V-shaped line of goodness. My hands lift the hem of his shirt higher, greedily moving it out of my way so I can run my hands over the firm, hard muscles lurking just beneath the thin fabric.
Cass grabs my hand, holding it in place. “Nuh-uh. We have to leave, baby.”
I sigh. “I know. But damn, it’s hard to keep my hands off you when you look this damn good.”
He laces his fingers through mine and leads me toward the door. We walk in a comfortable silence to the bike, hand in hand. The ride to meet Clayton is peaceful. The sun shines in the distance, slowly sinking down into the horizon. The sunset on the beach will always be one of the most beautiful sights I think I’ve ever seen and each time I see it is like seeing it for the first time again.
A light, happy feeling rushes over me. I am thankful that I get to share these moments with Cass. It almost worries me how much I’ve come to depend on his presence. He’s become such an important person to me that I find myself making all of my decisions with him in mind.
We arrive at The Patio, the best barbecue joint in Mississippi, or so they say. Cass parks next to a line of bikes. There’s a space roped off for motorcycle parking near the front entrance.
The band playing on the porch is loud when Cass kills thebike. They’re playing a cover of ‘Wild Thing’ by Tone Loc.
Cass hangs his helmet on one of the handlebars and mine on the other.
“Ready?” he asks, seeming more concerned than usual.
“Of course.” I offer him a reassuring smile and take his hand as he leads me through the packed restaurant. If it can even be considered a restaurant. Everything is outside under a large patio. With a metal roof, no walls and a concrete floor with a multitude of tables and chairs for seating. The great thing about April in the south is the unpredictability of the temperature. The weather is beautiful during the day, but after the sun sinks below the horizon, the temperature drops a bit, and it cools off.
Toward the back of the patio, I spot that familiar cut. A Hound from Oklahoma sits with his back to us, with Clayton sitting opposite him and Linc in between the two. The men are laughing and cutting up when we approach. Clayton’s eyes light up when he spots us.
