All the Right Moves - By Jo Leigh Page 0,45

suddenly become Joe Everyman.

He sipped his coffee, his thoughts turning to Cassie, and before he knew it, he pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed speed dial. She was either studying or getting ready to go to work. He had no business interrupting, but he wouldn’t keep her. Maybe she’d like to know he was thinking about her...maybe he’d stop feeling like crap once he heard her voice.

All he heard was her brief voice-mail message telling him he knew what to do if he wanted his call returned. That was enough to make him smile.

* * *

CASSIE PLUNGED HER HANDS into the sudsy water filled with dirty mugs and cursed the broken dishwasher. She cursed again when she realized she’d forgotten to slip on the rubber gloves. That she now gave a rat’s ass about keeping her hands soft and smooth warranted another juicy cuss word. But she saved it for Tommy. Assuming he’d ever show up.

The Gold Strike was hopping. A bunch of new people had come in with the hospital gang because it was Beth’s birthday. And sucker that she was, Cassie had bought the ingredients to make a piña colada, which Beth had wanted earlier in the week. Now, everyone at her table had ordered one.

“I have a few spare minutes.” Lisa set her tray down, then turned to take a final sweep of the room. “Want me to wash, fill pitchers or make the piña coladas?”

“How about going over to Tommy’s and dragging him back here by his ear?” Cassie looked up only briefly. She was so damn angry, but she didn’t need to drag Lisa into it. “Actually, I’ll settle for you taking care of the pitchers or washing mugs. And thanks.”

Lisa slipped behind the bar and stuck a pitcher under the tap. While it filled, she elbowed Cassie aside. “You make the piña coladas. I can wash and watch the pitchers at the same time.” Her gaze went to the textbook half hidden by a stack of clean rags. “Oh, and after this round, I’m telling Beth we ran out of colada ingredients.”

“You won’t be completely lying. I have enough pineapple juice for only one more drink.”

The door opened and they both looked over. No Tommy, but more customers. Great.

Cassie sighed. She was tired and unprepared for tomorrow’s exam. Part of it was her fault because she should’ve known better than to let John stay over last night. There wasn’t enough discipline in the world that would’ve allowed her to choose sleep over his clever hands and hard, warm body.

And what had she done after he left? Lazed around, sipping coffee and replaying one of the most amazing nights of her whole life. God, the man was sexy and talented. Funny. Smart. And he’d wanted her...Cassie O’Brien. There was no mistaking how much. Oh, she’d gotten in a couple hours of cramming, and then fell dead asleep on top of her open book. By the time she’d roused herself, she’d had to hightail it to the Gold Strike. Though not after calling Tommy, begging him to open so she could come in later. He’d turned her down, vowed he would if he could but he had an appointment.

She’d explained the importance of tomorrow’s exam, and was pleased when he actually seemed sympathetic. She was even happier when he promised to relieve her by seven-thirty. It was now eight-forty, and he wasn’t answering his phone. Stupid bastard. There’d been no misunderstanding. She’d been very, very clear. He knew how much she was counting on him, and that was what hurt. Really hurt, like a knife to the heart.

Putting on a smile wasn’t easy as she walked to the other end of the bar, where the newcomers had found stools, but it wasn’t the customers’ fault her brother was a selfish ass.

“Hi. What can I get you, gentlemen?” She didn’t know them, but the short guy with the shaggy hair and beard waved at Gordon and his crew sitting in the corner.

“Beer,” the younger, taller man said. “Whatever’s on tap.” He gave her a flirty smile, nothing offensive. In fact he was kind of cute in a yuppie sort of way, which made the pair even odder. Normally she would’ve smiled back, been more friendly, especially because of their connection to Gordon. But tonight trying not to scowl ate up most of her energy.

“And you?” She waited for the man to stop making hand signs to Gordon as if they were communicating in some juvenile