Britta bumped her shoulder into Goldie’s.“I almost messed up my joke.”
Goldie blinked once, then realization started to dawn.“Oh no,” Goldie whispered.
“Oh yes,” Tempi whispered back.
Britta turned back to Tempi, barely holding herself together.“Ask me.”
Swift’s expression darkened.“Britta.”
She pointed at him without looking.“Shh.Art is happening.”
Hodge set his cue on the pool table.“I need to hear this.”
Podge nodded.“Same.”
Twister folded his arms, looking like a man who already regretted every decision that had brought him to this exact moment.
Tempi cleared her throat dramatically.“Hey, Britta.”
Britta straightened on the barstool.
Tempi leaned across the bar.“What does your ol’ man ride?”
Britta smiled.Not a normal smile.A full Cheshire Cat, trouble-loaded, no-regrets smile.Then she turned just enough to look directly at Swift.“Me.”
For one perfect second, the entire clubhouse went silent.Even Gramps stopped snoring.
Then Tempi lost it.
She slapped both hands on the bar and bent over laughing.Goldie burst out laughing beside her, one hand pressed to her mouth and the other gripping the edge of the bar like she needed it to stay upright.
Hodge roared and Podge made a choking noise.Twister dropped his head and laughed into his hand.I tried not to, but failed.
Swift stood by the door with a smile on his face.“Damn fucking right, babe.”
Britta looked absolutely delighted with herself.
Gramps jerked awake in the recliner.“Who died?”
“No one,” Hodge managed between laughs.
Gramps blinked around the room, eyes landing on Britta.“You say something dirty?”
Britta beamed.“Maybe.”
Gramps grunted, reclined again, and closed his eyes.“Good for you.”
Goldie laughed so hard she had to set her glass down.
Tempi wiped beneath her eyes.“I need a minute.”
“You need Jesus,” Swift said.
Tempi grabbed a napkin and a pen.“Wait.I’m writing this down.”
Hodge moved around the pool table, still chuckling.“Come on, Podge.Your shot.”
Podge looked down at the table.“I believe it’s still your turn.”
