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“They haven’t.” Wilson leaned most of his weight on a spindly table, and I expected it to give out any moment. His focus was hazy, and his smile crooked. A half-full martini glass dangled dangerously from his lax fingers.
Oh yeah, he was hammered.
“Double or nothing. I’ll play on Mr. Unat—” Oops, that would have been embarrassing. Well, not like Wilson would remember most of this “On Mr. California’s behalf,” I remedied.
“Let them keep the winnings. I lost fair and square. But here’s twenty bucks on you to win.” Wilson lurched to his full height and held up a bill before stuffing it into the ripped pocket on the front of Emitt’s plaid shirt.
“Cricket?” It would be like taking candy from a drunk baby.
Emitt nodded, and I stepped to the line. Darts were my jam, always had been. My brother said I had a natural aptitude every time I kicked his ass.
“You’re winning, right?” Wilson draped an arm around me, and together we wobbled. He smelled like jalapeno-scented hand sanitizer, if such a thing existed.
“I haven’t started.”
I reevaluated the situation while supporting a significant portion of Wilson’s weight. A game of cricket took a while. Emitt wanted free drinks more than anything else. And Wilson was about to go down for the count.
“I get one throw. I hit the bullseye, we win that twenty-dollar bet. I miss, double or nothing on a full game of cricket. And more free drinks.” I flashed Wilson’s black card.
Emitt checked with his team, and they all agreed to my terms.
“Here. Hold this.” I leaned Wilson against the wall and passed him my purse. He clutched it to his chest like it was a beloved teddy bear.
I toed the line, lifted my arm, took aim, and whap. One bullseye. Done.
The property management team moaned. These kids would never learn; I was the champion.
“Holy shit.” Wilson pulled me into a sloppy hug, squeezing me tight, swaying left to right. He’d left my purse on the sticky tabletop so nothing came between us. His arms felt good; he was tall, broad, and hard in all the right places. I repositioned myself so his arm draped around my shoulders before I got any more comfortable in his embrace.
“Peace out!” I collected my purse and dragged my client from the bar, stopping to drop off my good darts with Lara for safekeeping.
We stumbled out the side door of The Pub. Overhead, a string of bare bulbs looped in the tree branches provided enough light to find our way toward the parking lot.
“They cleaned you out, didn’t they?”
“A couple hundred bucks, not a huge deal. And they made fun of my Gucci loafers.” He held open his empty wallet to show me. I passed him the forty bucks I’d won. It took him a few tries to stuff the money in the wallet and return everything to his pocket.
“I can get the money back. The loafers, well, that is a different problem.” Telling Jude that a bunch of his staff had cleaned Wilson out hustling darts would be a mixture of hilarious and terrifying. But Emitt would cough up the winnings to keep his job.
“No way. They won the money fair and square.” He draped his arm over my shoulder and leaned heavily on me as we continued our slow progress down the path. “But you can teach me to play like you. I’ll win it back next time.”
“I could try to teach you, but darts isn’t a game you learn; it’s a gift. You either have it or you don’t.”
He considered my words and huffed. A lock of his dark hair fell forward over one eye. I put my hand in the tiny pocket of my dress to keep from pushing the wayward strands off his face.
“Can you at least help me with the loafers? I need boots. Since I’m moving to Texas.”
“Sure, rock star, we’ll find you boots.” The stupid thrill his words caused was dangerous, and I would ignore it. No way he’d move to Elmer. A vacation house wasn’t a home. He misspoke, the slip of his well-lubricated tongue wagging on its own without permission from his brain. Like any vacationer, he wasn’t part of this community.
Not in any way that counted.
“You know, in LA, I can’t hardly see the stars.” Head tipped back, he stumbled over his feet while looking up.
“That’s kind of sad. Knowing something so magnificent is out there but hidden from view.” I held his arm to steady him, and he pulled me close.
“Like your breasts.” He giggled the words into the spot where my neck and shoulder met. His hot breath and the rake of stubble across my skin caused a wave of arousal. Damn it, drunk Wilson was adorable.
“Wils, my breasts? Did you have to go there?” I pulled free from his lax embrace and tried to meet his unsteady gaze.
