“Sounds fair,” Carly said.
Her heated gaze pinned him. Then she licked her lips, and Owen’s body tightened. Everywhere. Nerve endings fired. Messages flew from his brain to his manhood in record time. Thankfully he was seated, otherwise the force of desire slamming into him would’ve brought him to his knees.
Then she strode away. He knew she meant to appear strong and confident, but the sway in her hips mesmerized him, obliterating any thought but exploring those curves. A minute later her ball zoomed down the lane to blast into the pins with a sharp crack, earning her a spare.
Cheers and applause from her teammates mixed with the groans from his echoed around them as she rejoined the group. The women greeted her with high fives. Carly waved a hand toward the lane and then motioned to Owen. “You’re up, I believe.”
Not quite, but darn close. He joined her. “Be careful of throwing down a challenge. You might get more than you expect.”
“I can handle anything you toss my way, fella.”
Her sexy tone wrapped around him and held on tight. He bet she could.
“This show’s better than that chick flick you made me watch last weekend,” Brayden said to Kelli.
“It was a romantic comedy,” his wife corrected.
Owen glanced around to find the other couples staring at him and Carly with big, stupid grins on their faces. How had he and Carly gotten so wrapped up in each other they hadn’t realized they were putting on a show?
As he reached for his ball, he spotted Mason Rayburn, All American Lanes’s owner heading toward them. The man’s purposeful stride, frown, and wrinkled brow told Owen whatever news he had to deliver wasn’t good.
The fun was over.
*
All American Lanes’sowner strode directly to Carly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we need to talk in private.”
The concern lining the older man’s round face, told Carly something was wrong. She fingered her turquoise necklace. Figured. She’d been having more fun than she’d had all last year. Unfortunately, she’d let the blue bird of happiness hang around too long, and now it would poop on her boots.
Owen appeared beside her. “Want me to come along?”
She shook her head. “I’m sure I’ll be back in a minute.”
Carly followed Mason from the alley to an empty spot among the tables. “Ryder’s here with Dylan Danvers. This isn’t my first go around with that teenager, but tonight I smell liquor on their breath, and fear they’ve done something else too.”
No. It couldn’t be. She worried Ryder had been drinking but she hadn’t suspected drugs. How could she have missed that? Carly pressed her clammy palm over her heart and breathed deeply to calm her anxiety as she’d learned in yoga. “Where are they?”
“I talked ’em down enough to get them in my office. This is a family place. Other folks are complaining about their language and behavior. If you can get ’em to leave with you, great. If not, I’ll have to call the police. I can’t have them two running off other folks.”
“I appreciate you letting me handle this, Mason.” Carly’s hands shook as she followed Mason toward his office. She wanted to scream and slap her brother silly for his lousy choice in friends and his stupid behavior. Drinking was bad enough, but possibly doing drugs, too, and coming to a public place?
She considered calling their father but dismissed the idea. Even if he could handle the situation, by the time he arrived Mason’s good will and patience could have run out. This needed immediate action. While she wanted her brother to receive consequences for his actions, she didn’t believe jail was the answer.
When they reached Mason’s office, he unlocked the door, and she thanked him again. Stepping inside, a string of slurred curses, some of which she didn’t know the meaning of, greeted her. A second later a tall, skinny teen dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt with a coiled snake holding a rifle and the words ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ on the front tried to push past them. The look in his eyes told Carly the chip on his shoulder would take a crane to remove. “Get the hell outta my way, old man.”
Ignoring her brother who was slumped in a chair, his head resting on a desktop, Carly stepped between the teen and Mason. Hoping to keep her voice calm despite the blood pounding in her ears, she smiled at the owner in reassurance. “I’m sure you have things needing your attention, Mason. I’ll take this from here.”
“You sure, Carly?” After she nodded, Mason patted her arm. “I’ll be outside. If you need me, holler.”
Carly waited for the door’s soft click behind her before she turned to her brother’s friend. “I’m Ryder’s sister. We haven’t met.”
At the sound of her voice, Ryder said, “Dylan, meet my sis, Carly. No matter how deep the shit, she stays polite. Least in public.”
“You’re right. She does have a stick up her ass,” Dylan said.
Hearing Ryder said she had a stick up her ass stung, but having Dylan announce it loud enough Mason surely heard outside hurt more. Pushing aside her humiliation, she focused on convincing the teenagers to leave with her.
“You two were lucky. Mr. Rayburn could have called the police, but thankfully he came to me instead. Now before he reconsiders, I’m taking you both home.”
