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He felt like a decrepit old man watching the kids run around and have a good time.
“Yes, Ms. Dalton,” he replied. “I’m having fun. In fact, it was just this morning that I was thinking I haven’t been bowling in so long. Thanks for the opportunity.”
She narrowed her eyes, but Peter seemed to take Gray’s comment at face value, because he nodded agreeably.
“You’re up, champ,” Jack said, grabbing Sophie’s knee to get her attention.
Fantastic, they had nicknames now. Jack must have felt Gray’s gaze burning a hole in the back of his hand, because he removed it quickly from Sophie’s leg with a questioning eyebrow as if to say Yours?
Gray avoided his brother’s silent inquiry by staring at the scoreboard, where he was placing…fifth. Out of six. Even Alistair was beating him. Peter at least was a good deal behind him, but the man had arthritis, for God’s sake. Nobody expected Peter to do anything other than gently push the ball down the lane with two hands.
Surely Gray could do better than this. It wasn’t like he’d never bowled before. He could remember a couple of birthday parties as a kid. So it had only been, oh, about twenty years
since his last game.
Meanwhile, the blonde demon in his life had just thrown yet another strike, which had her tied in first place with Jack. The two of them were now doing some sort of victory dance that involved lots of touching.
This was just great. At this rate, Gray’s next bowling experience would probably be at the birthday party of his nieces and nephews as they squealed about how this was the place where their parents first met.
The thought of mini-Sophies and -Jacks put him in an even worse mood, so instead he studied the other flirtatious couple. Alistair had abandoned Sophie almost immediately after discovering that she was the better bowler. Pudgy losers like Alistair didn’t like to be beat in anything, even something as ridiculous as bowling. Jenna was barely better than Gray, which made her fair game for the younger Blackwell’s attention.
As Gray watched Jenna lay a hand on Alistair’s arm, he wondered why she wasn’t ripping her lame suitor to shreds. His sister wasn’t exactly approachable, even to eligible men. There was no way she’d waste her time with this overweight lecher boy currently trying to correct her bowling form. And yet her usual venom wasn’t seeping from her pores. Interesting.
He took another swallow of beer and made a concentrated effort not to scowl at the whole lot of them. Peter excused himself to the restroom, and Sophie fluttered into the vacated seat, filling his senses with…cinnamon?
She smelled like a freaking bakery. He’d noticed the sweet and oddly alluring smell the other night when he’d cornered her in his dark office like a creepy predator.
“You’re scowling, boss.”
“You think?”
She sighed as though dealing with a difficult child. “Really, this is the best thing. Peter is smiling, and Alistair…well…Jenna knows what she’s doing, right? I mean her humoring him will work in your favor, but she can’t possibly be attracted, can she?”
“Jenna knows how to handle herself.” He hoped.
“I’m guessing that’s your Mr. Darcy way of implying that I can’t handle myself?”
“Who’s Mr. Darcy?” he asked, his frown deepening. “And why does he get to go by his last name, while you’ve been calling me Gray since the moment you met me?”
She sighed again, wearily. Clearly he’d disappointed her somehow. Again. “Never mind about Mr. Darcy. I take it you haven’t told your siblings about our little elevator misunderstanding?”
“Tell them what, exactly, that I thought my assistant turned tricks? No, I didn’t mention it. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly prone to chatting.”
“I noticed. But the tension is only because you’re sitting here in the corner like the freaking Grinch. They want to talk to you, but your body language is telling everyone to fuck off.”
“I am not having this conversation with you.”
“Why not? You owe me; I picked your sister up from the airport.”
“Which expressly disobeyed my orders! Town car! I said to get Jenna into a town car!” he exploded.
Several pairs of eyes landed on him. Even in the noisy bowling alley, his voice had carried. Jack gave him a reassuring smile, but Jenna just rolled her eyes in disgust. She abruptly pushed past a startled Alistair and stalked off to the bar.
Sophie looked at him with a censorious expression. “You really should go talk to your sister. Now she thinks that you just wanted to put her into an impersonal Lincoln.”
“That’s exactly what I intended. Then we wouldn’t be in this dreadful bowling alley,” he mumbled.
She poked him in the side. “Go. This is your sister.”
