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Abby grinned. “If I win, we do whatever I want. All day tomorrow. Shopping, lunch, maybe a movie.”
“Shopping,” he repeated.
“I try things on. You hold my purse and tell me I look good in everything. Shopping.”
He eyed the table and then looked at her. “You’re two drinks in the bag and you want to play now?”
She nodded. “I could still beat you.”
He grinned. “You’re on. Do we need to shake on it?”
“What? You don’t trust me?” she asked innocently.
Doc beat Easy and Mark stood up. “Gentlemen,” he announced. “We’ll take those.”
Abby held out her hand to take the cue from Easy. “You two are going to play?” the youngest man asked. He scrutinized Abby. “Aren’t you half drunk already?”
Abby glared at him. “Shut up,” she said, reaching for the cue.
Easy swung it away and she nearly stumbled trying to reach it. “You’re totally hammered,” he declared. Then he handed her the cue. “My money’s on Tex,” he called out to Doc. “Vegas is sloshed.”
Doc considered this. “I don’t know. She’s wily.” He pulled out his wallet. “I got fifty bucks on Vegas. Tex is toast.”
Mark racked the balls and Shooter wandered over. “What’s up?” he asked the group.
“Vegas may or may not be drunk,” Easy answered, “and thinks she can beat our boy.”
“I say it’s a hustle,” Doc declared. “She’s gonna kick his ass.”
“Really?” Shooter asked. “You think she can take him?”
Doc shrugged. “Like I told the kid, she’s wily. Breaking into people’s houses and shit. She’s probably a criminal mastermind.”
Shooter thought about this. “Yeah, I can totally see your reasoning.” He pulled out his own wallet. “I got fifty bucks on the redhead.”
“Jesus,” Tex said, annoyed. “Do none of you have faith in me?”
Shooter grinned. “Against Vegas? Nope. Hawk!”
The large man ambled over and spied the stack of bills on the edge of the table. “Are we settling our tab already?” He checked his watch. “Seems early.”
“Nah,” said the lieutenant. “Tex and Vegas are gonna play a game.”
“Oh, shit! I’m in! My money’s on Vegas. No doubt,” he said, slapping down a bill.
“Fuck all of you,” Tex announced loudly. “Except Easy. He’s my only friend.”
Easy frowned. “Actually if she weren’t piss drunk I’d change my bet,” he admitted.
Mark flipped him off. All the men laughed.
“You want to break?” asked Mark, with a shit-eating grin.
“Up to you,” Abby told him, chalking her cue.
“Oh, then you go ahead,” he told her, still grinning.
Abby knew he thought she couldn’t do it. He’d probably played against a lot of girls who didn’t have enough cue control or strength to break up the rack. She leaned over the table, hand on the felt, and lined up her shot. She hit hard and with confidence, splitting up the grouping nicely, sinking two balls to boot.
“Damn it,” said Easy and everyone laughed.
“Stripes,” she called brightly, rounding the corner for another shot.
“You’re gonna be wearing my stripes if you lose,” Mark growled.
“Oooh,” said the men, gathering to the side to watch.
Abby missed her shot and glared at Mark.
“That was kind of hot even if I don’t play that way,” Hawk mused.
“What do you get if you win, Vegas?” Chris asked.
She grinned. “He has to come along on a girl’s day out. Shopping, lunch. I’m thinking of throwing in a mani-pedi, too.”
The men laughed hysterically. “I don’t think he has enough money to pay someone a fair wage to touch his feet,” said Hawk. “A whole year’s salary wouldn’t cover it. Oh, my God, paint his nails! Please!”
Mark sank his shot and stood up. “No nail painting. I didn’t agree to that.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “I meant for me. While you hold my purse.”
Mark sank two more balls, but missed a third. Abby was on a run of two when he bent over and whispered, “You are going to come so hard at the end of my crop.” She bounced her shot off the ten ball and swore loudly.
“Cheater,” she hissed.
He grinned. “Hey. In the army we had to learn to shoot amid distractions. Why can’t you?”
Abby scowled as she stalked around the table. They were down to the finish now. Mark only had the eight ball left and she still had two balls in play. They were desperate times. As he lined up his final shot, Abby walked into his line of view and turned to the men. “Oh, hey,” she said, casually. “I don’t think you guys ever got to see my tattoo!” She spun and bent over, lifting her skirt all the way over her hips and pulling down the waistband of her panties a little.
“Holy Shit!” Easy yelled.
“Damn!” said Hawk.
Mark sank the eight ball, but the cue ball went in after it. “God damn it!” he shouted.
Abby pulled up her panties and let her dress fall back down. “Wait!” said Easy. “Was there a tattoo? I missed it! I was too busy looking at her ass!”
