Page 81 of Big Dill

“Maybe you should go pro,” Liam suggests, gesturing at Brody and Jaxon like they’re some sort of elite coach duo. And really, they are. “You’ve got the best teachers right here.”

I snort a laugh, shaking my head. “It’d have to be a cold day in⁠—”

“Churchill Falls,” Jaxon cuts in, grinning. “Already happened, sis.”

“No, I am not going professional,” I clarify firmly. Alone time on the court with Brody? No thanks. My heart can’t survive that kind of torture.

Jaxon cocks his head, teasing. “Never say never.”

I fold my arms and lift my chin and inch. “I’m saying never.”

“Come on,” Brody interrupts smoothly, plucking my beer from the bar. He points to the dart game in the corner. “We’re up.”

Sliding off my stool, I catch Rachel approaching Jaxon. Those two would be good together. I’m about to voice that to Brody, but he speaks first.

“You and Liam seemed to be hitting it off.”

“You know, he’s actually a really nice guy,” I admit.

“Skeet,” he murmurs.

“What’s a skeet?”

“Nice guy.” He tugs on his shirt. “I was agreeing.” I eye him, guessing that’s not at all what it means. He grins. “Just don’t call anyone that.”

“He asked me about snowmobiling. I think he was about to invite me to his cottage.”

“Have you changed your mind about dating him?” He eyes me, and I can’t quite get a read on him. Is he playing with me again, or is he serious?

“I mean… he’s no lumber snack, but he really is nice, and he seems… eager.”

“Like a beaver,” Brody says, deadpan. I pause, then he casually adds, “Eager Beaver. He probably marries them in his little backyard chapel too.”

I can’t help it. I burst out laughing and pinch his side. “Be nice.”

“Oh, I am,” he shoots back, smirking. “You’re the one fantasizing about his backyard chapel, not me.”

“Fantasizing, Brody. Really?”

We reach the corner, and I’m still grinning when Brody sets my beer on a table and begins to introduce me to the other league players. Naturally, they all know who I am, and I recognize a few from yoga class.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, glancing at the dart board. “I’m new at this, so please be patient.”

Susan’s husband, Scott, throws a massive arm around me, his booming laugh filling the corner of the pub. “This is a fun league, Jami. The score doesn’t matter. It’s all about having a good time.”

“Well then,” I reply with a grin. “That I know how to do.”

Brody hands me a dart. “Let’s see what you got,” he says.

“So the goal is to hit that tiny black dot in the center, right?” I joke. Laughter bubbles around me, and I feel my shoulders relax. Maybe this will actually be fun.

I take my first shot. The dart doesn’t even hit the board.

Instead of ridicule, everyone cheers, clapping and hollering as if I just threw a perfect bullseye. I throw my head forward and take a dramatic bow, grinning like a total goof.

I find Brody leaning against the wall, and catch his grin. A shiver runs straight through me. He pushes off the wall, walking toward me, and the rest of the league drifts back to their drinks and chatter, leaving us in our own little bubble.

“Like this,” he says, stepping up behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, his mouth brushing my ear. My stomach flips. His hands go to my hips and he angles my body.