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The silver fox might be as old as my father, but he sure knows how to show off a cowboy hat, plaid shirt, jeans, and steel-toed work boots, a toy gun resting in the holster strapped to his hip.
With such broad shoulders and a trim waist, he could easily be mistaken for the real deal. And it hardly seems like a costume when I know he’s a born-and-bread Texan whose family has deep roots in the oil industry and over a hundred acres of farmland.
He and Daddy met in college and became good friends and even better business partners.
“Well, if it isn’t Florence Nightingale herself,” Luke says, his Southern drawl low and playful as he pushes off from the wall to approach.
Cilian’s sharp emerald eyes shift from the pool table to find me as well, and he straightens, a look of intrigue flashing across his freckled face.
The pirate turns as well, and I’m shocked to find my father’s childhood friend Zachary Paine doing a very convincing impression of Jack Sparrow. It helps that he looks alarmingly like Johnny Depp with a wig of dreaded hair and some eyeliner. “Mia Florence, it can’t be. You’ve grown up,” he notes, his tone flattering.
“Zach, I didn’t know you were in town.”
It’s been years since he and my dad were close. Still, he manages to make it to Daddy’s Christmas parties often enough, and I know from the stories they’ve told that they were thick as thieves before Daddy went away to college in Texas.
“My daughter and I just moved here last year,” Zach explains.
“Tired of the fresh mountain air?” I tease. It’s what my father says he misses most about Colorado, but I don’t see how anyone could survive outside the city. Nature is wonderful and all, but New York is just so full of life.
“A fresh start,” he says, his smile tinged with sadness.
“More like some distance from that psycho you call an ex-wife,” Luke observes.
Zach casts a sidelong glance his way that would indicate he’d rather not talk about it.
“Yer father said ya graduated college, but he didn’t tell me you took a job in nursing,” Cilian jokes, his Irish brogue making my stomach do funny little flips as his eyes scan up and down my figure appreciatively. “It suits ya.”
I laugh, the flirty banter synonymous with the bad boy womanizer I’ve secretly nursed a crush on since the day we met.
This room is perfect. Three bachelors with impressive reputations and enough ambition to help me prove my point. I would love to have a little fun with any of the three sexy older men here. And from the line of empty beer bottles nearby, I think they’re up for a party as well.
“You fellas mind if I join you?”
“Sure,” they agree in chorus.
“Great. I’m dying for a little stick-and-ball action tonight.” I give a cheeky flutter of my eyelashes as I head to the rack of pool sticks and select one. When I turn around, I’m rewarded with three sets of eyes watching me with fresh intrigue. “How about a game of nine-ball?”
“Sounds fun to me,” Cilian says, reaching into the table’s pockets to start re-racking.
Luke joins him, collecting the diamond-shaped rack from its hanger on the wall.
We do a quick lag to determine our order. Then, as I prepare to break, I bend at the hips, my eyes focused on the cue. The balls connect with a satisfying ruckus, pinging across the pool table as they spread out. And the red three vanishes off the table with a satisfyingthunk.
Luke releases a low whistle. “You’ve been practicing.”
“College taught me many valuable skills in life,” I joke. “You boys care to make this interesting?”
“Interesting how?” Zach asks.
“Whoever wins gets a kiss.”
“From you?” Luke asks.
I shrug playfully. “Sure.”
“What happens if you win, then?” Cilian’s green eyes study me closely, his sharp gaze intelligent.
I bite my lip playfully, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “Well, then I get to choose.”
