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“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Don’t go crying to me when you lose.”
Men and their fragile little egos. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
It was midweek, which meant the bar wasn’t as busy as it could have been. There were fifteen or so regulars dotted around the place, having a quiet afternoon. Until they walked in.
“No,” Ewan McKenzie called out from behind the bar as soon as he spotted her. “No. Just no.”
Duncan looked at her askance, and she shrugged like she didn’t have a clue what he was going on about. When Duncan turned back to the bar, Donna made a slicing gesture across her throat to tell Ewan to stop talking. He didn’t read it right because he glared and pointed at her.
“Don’t even think about threatening me! I’ll take you outside and skelp your arse.”
“No, you bloody well won’t.” Duncan’s chest puffed up as he confronted Ewan. “Nobody touches her arse but me.”
Donna groaned, and she felt her face burn. She scanned the room to see that everyone had heard Duncan’s declaration.
“He isn’t touching my backside either,” she announced to them, but could tell from the smiles that no one believed her.
Ewan pointed at her again. “If you go anywhere near the karaoke machine, you’re barred for life.”
That got Duncan’s attention. “This is about karaoke?”
“Pathetic, right?” She gave Ewan a look of disgust, but he stood his ground.
“You sing?” Duncan’s look of shock was becoming offensive.
“No, she doesn’t,” Ewan snapped, “and that’s the problem. We had two bloody hours straight of her wailing like a banshee to Madonna. She doesn’t go near that machine ever again.” He looked around the pub. “We took a vote. Nobody wants her near it.”
There were nods of agreement.
“Bunch of drama llamas,” she muttered. “It’s not like I come in here all the time. I haven’t been to a karaoke night for months.”
“And we’re still suffering,” Ewan said.
“You sing?” Duncan said again, obviously stuck on that nugget of information.
“Let it go,” Donna told him before grinning. She should have sung her answer.
He gave her a confused look before he turned to Ewan. “We’re playing pool. No singing, I promise. Now”—he turned back to her—“what do you want to drink?”
She would have answered, but Ewan wasn’t listening anyway, he was too busy laughing.
“You’re playing pool?” He slapped the bar. “With her?”
Some of the regulars joined in the laughter, and Donna gave them her dirtiest look. It had no impact. Agnes would have shut that crap down already.
“Maybe this is a bad idea,” Duncan said. “I wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself in front of everyone like you did with your singing.”
“Hey.” She poked him in the ribs, coming up against a solid wall of muscle that left her strangely fascinated and a little breathless. “I can sing. I’m just underappreciated. And I can play pool too.”
“Then what’s up with your pool game that has Ewan in stitches?”
“Nothing.”
He turned to the pub owner, who held up his hands. “There are some things a man needs to experience for himself. I’ll bring your drinks over.”
“We haven’t ordered them yet.” Duncan was losing his limited patience.
“You both get Coke.” Ewan reached for the glasses. “Agnes told me you don’t drink anymore, and Donna’s only allowed soft drinks.”
