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“My money’s on Dolly,” Trent says, tossing a $10 bill on the bar top.
“Same,” Tyler says, doing the same.
“Seriously? Seriously, guys?” Decker looks at both of his cousins in astonishment as he shakes his head.
“Sorry, bro, but she’s got that fiery drive, plus she’s kicked all of our asses enough over the years.”
“Psshh, pussies,” Decker mutters as he grabs the rack. “Get ready to eat your words, bitches.”
“I’ll take that bet.” I reach into my purse and pull out $20, tossing it onto the pile.
“Damn, and she’s doubling down on herself. We love a confident woman!” Amelia says as she and Brooklyn cheer me on while I chalk my pool stick.
“I’ll even let you break, Deck.” I smile sweetly at him.
“Hey, don’t go easy on me. I can take it.” He points his pool stick at me before getting a serious look on his face and getting into position.
I glance over at Ranger, his eyes already on me. I offer him a small smile. I want to ask him where he ran off to after the bachelor auction the other night. I didn’t even notice he’d left, and by the time I went out to the parking lot, his truck was already gone. I can’t figure out what’s going on between us. I know he’s stressed—he’s got more on his plate than most—but one second it feels like we’re both feeling the sexual tension, and the next, he’s running off and acting like I’m back to being hiskid sisteror whatever the hell he called me.
“Your turn, Doll.” Deck snaps his fingers, bringing me back down to earth. I scan the table and see he didn’t make a single shot. I line up behind the cue ball, pulling back and striking it. It sends the red 3 ball deep into the far right pocket.
“And here she goes.” Tyler laughs as I sink the orange 5 followed by the purple 4. I miss my fourth shot and Deck sinks two stripes in a row before scratching and sending the cue ball in right after the 10 ball.
I walk around the table, passing Ranger, whose eyes are still on me.
“Something on your mind?” I ask him as I bend down to line up my shot, my ass heading straight back toward him.
“Nope.”
I look back over my shoulder before I take the shot, his eyes settling on my ass. My shirt has pulled up my back a few inches. I wiggle a little and hear an audible groan fall from his lips. I smile as I pull the stick back and sink another shot.
“Sure sounds like it,” I say, standing back up to look at him. I have no idea if anyone else is paying attention to us, but it sounds like they’re all laughing and talking, so I take a second to let the moment simmer between us. He keeps his eyes on mine as he reaches his hand down, visibly adjusting himself as he brings his beer to his lips and takes a drink.
I feel like I’m two seconds away from bursting into flames right now. The tension is palpable. Before I do something obvious, like lunge into his lap, I turn back to the table, walking to the other side and leaning forward to give him a shot straight down my pink flowery top. Once again, he makes no effort to hide his gaze as it settles on my breasts.
I miss my shot, and Deck proceeds to tease me, but I’m too preoccupied with the way Ranger is looking at me—like he wants to eat me alive. His thick thighs are stretching his jeans to the limit, his flannel shirt unbuttoned just enough that I can see the hair from his chest peeking through. I watch his forearm flex as he grips the stool he’s sitting on and readjusts his seat. The man is muscular and big, his frame takes up space, his voice is low and gravelly, and his scruff is thick after a day or two of not shaving. I want to feel that roughness between my thighs. I want to hear that deep voice whispering naughty things in my ear.
“Care to make a bet?” I ask, sidling up beside him.
“Like?”
“Like . . .” I wrap both hands around my pool stick, leaning on it as I think of something that will be exciting. “Like if I win, you have to take a turn around the dance floor with me.”
“There’s nobody dancing.” We both look over to the empty dance floor.
“Exactly. So we should dance. You know if we do, the others will follow.”
“And what do I get if you lose?”
“What do you want?”
He looks at me and slowly drags his eyes down my body then back up as a smirk tugs at his full lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey.” His deep voice drops an octave, sending a spark straight between my thighs.
There’s that word again.
Ranger’s always been a sweet-talker, but I swear he’s called me “honey” more times in the last few weeks than he has since I’ve known him. And the way he says it—not to mentionwhenhe chooses to say it—just adds to my long-burning lust for this man.
“Well, for what it’s worth, we both know you won’t have to worry about that, because I’m not going to lose.” I almost kick myself when I say it. I should let myself lose to see if he’d actually deliver on whatever mysterious desires that little warning is hiding.
