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Brett places some nachos with what looks like the kitchen sink on them and a Caesar salad in front of me. The bartender goes around me to place fried cheese sticks and potato skins on the table.
“Can we get two shots of Jameson, also?” Brett calls out.
“A salad?” I say, looking at the table.
He smiles. “Balance, my love, it’s all about balance.” This time I’m the one laughing as he scoops up a glob of sour cream on a cheesy chip and feeds it to me.
“Oh God, that’s really good,” I groan.
His eyes darken, and he feeds me another bite, then leans down to take my mouth, his tongue twisting with mine, stealing all the nachos from me as I moan.
“Here we go.” The bartender clears his throat.
Brett slowly lifts his head, but stays focused on me while the bartender places the two shots in front of us.
“How about we make a bet?”
I arch a brow. “Sure.”
“If I win, you sit on my face.” He winks as I freeze midbite, eating a cheese stick.
“God, Brett.” I shake my head. “Sure, since I know I’m gonna kick your butt. What if I win?”
He shrugs, eating a chip. “Name it.”
My eyes narrow as the crowd at the bar cheers at something.
“Hmm.” I stand, pulling my dress down. “Anything I want…?” I walk over to the pool cues.
“Anything.” He motions to the screen. “And your brother just scored a touchdown.”
The bar explodes again, and I turn.
He laughs as he backs up, raising his hands. “This is not my fault that you’re distracted and not watching the game.”
“It is too,” I snap, watching the replay, digging my nails into his bicep. “I’m so proud. Look at him, Brett.”
“You should be. He’s gonna go all the way. I bet he goes pro.” He walks over to the pool table and starts racking the balls.
“You think so? I don’t know. I mean, my dad has made it really clear he expects him to get his degree in case something happens.”
Reaching for my drink, I try to stay focused, which is not easy because Brett is moving the rack in place with his strong hands. It’s enough to almost make me groan out loud.
“What do you think he should do?” He looks up at me, and the world stops when I lose myself in his fucking blue eyes. And for the first time in my life, I actually say what I think, not what my dad or even Jude would say.
“I think he has a million-dollar arm and should go for it.”
He straightens and grins. “I think you’re right. You want to break?”
“Yes,” I puff out, trying to calm myself as my nipples harden. I reach for the chalk to use on the end of the cue stick.
Smiling, I can feel his eyes on me when I lean over. Getting ready to break, I look up.
“If I win…” Leaning forward, I gracefully snap the cue ball hard. The balls scatter like mice, and I pocket two.
I smile triumphantly. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel like I just scored a touchdown.
“Lay it on me, Baby Girl.”
