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“That’s not an answer.” She glanced at Jace. “Is that an answer?”
Jace laughed. She was growing far too fond of that laugh.
“My ice cream is melting.” Travis pointed at what appeared to be whipped cream piled high on a large ice cream shake.
“Then you’d better answer.” She pushed. “We win as is, or we play through?”
“You win,” Travis grumbled softly.
“Sorry, man, even I’m going to have to ask you to repeat that.” Jace shook his head.
“Really?” Travis sighed. “Fine. You. Win. But we’re kicking your ass next time.”
Krystal flopped into the chair beside Heather, smiling as Clem jumped into her lap and planted two doggy kisses on her chin. “Are you proud of your mommy, Clem? Putting Uncle Trav in his place like that.”
“Give it a rest.” Travis shoved a handful of cheesy fries into his mouth. “Mm, good.”
Jace sat beside Krystal, reaching over to give Clementine a gentle scratch. “Hey, Clem.”
Clem’s little tail went fast motion.
“Clementine,” she pretend whispered. “A lady should pretend to play hard to get.”
Jace shook his head. “I prefer a straightforward woman myself.” His gaze met hers. “No games.”
“Chocolate shake. Your fave.” Heather slid the milkshake toward her brother and yawned. “Do you guys do this sort of thing often?”
Emmy Lou glanced at the clock on the back wall. “Is it really three?”
“I don’t think we’ve ever bowled at three in the morning.” Krystal took a fry from the plate Jace offered. “Thank you.”
“Guess we’re getting special treatment, Heather.” Jace winked at his sister and took a sip of his shake. “Damn, that is good.” He ran his tongue along his lower lip and took another sip. “Want some?” He held the cup out, the straw sliding around, tip toward Krystal.
The idea of putting her lips on the very place his had just been kick-started a pulse in the base of her belly. She shook her head.
“You’re missing out.”
She reconsidered the whole climbing into his lap thing but got ahold of herself before she did something she’d seriously regret.
Jace offered the tall glass to his sister. “Heather?”
They passed the mountain of food around, sharing bites and relaxing. Krystal ate one piece of cheese pizza, a handful of cheesy fries, and the better part of her vanilla milkshake before exhaustion hit her. While Travis had launched into one of his never-ending monologues on the importance of a four-by-four off-roading package for any self-respecting truck owner, she was sliding down in her chair.
She didn’t know when Jace had moved closer. Or when he’d slid his arm around her so she could rest against his shoulder. If Travis hadn’t yelled, “Rematch?” and jolted her awake, she probably would have stayed blissfully asleep. Against Jace. Again.
But this time she only had her arm draped across his waist. She sat up quickly, her head smacking into Jace’s chin with an audible clack.
“Ow,” she hissed, rubbing her head.
“Yeah.” Jace was rubbing his jaw.
“Hard headed. I told you.” Travis laughed.
“Sorry,” she murmured, still rubbing her head.
Jace wiggled his jaw back and forth. “You okay?” His fingers slid through her hair to feel for a knot.
She shivered. He was warm, his touch, his gaze—all of him. She wanted his warmth. Badly. If there hadn’t been an audience, she would have crawled into his lap right then and there. Between the heavy stubble on his jaw, his heavy-lidded gaze, and his scent still clinging to her hair and cheek, she was ready to throw in the towel and surrender to this wildfire hold he had on her.
