Calling the Shots (Thunder Creek #2)

1. Gracelyn

CHAPTER 1

GRACELYN

I should have stuck to my guns.

Stayed off Blaze and Buzz and Soulmate.com forever . I managed just fine all summer long, while my bestie Sloane was back home here in Thunder Creek.

Living vicariously through her love life, everything was good.

Great, even.

But once she left for Florida with Cam and I was all alone again, I logged back in. Bored and lonely, I couldn’t stop myself from swiping right. Like a freaking addict, desperate for excitement and ready for my next hit of oxytocin.

Flush.

The toilet whooshing in the next stall jolts me back to my miserable—and still very much single—reality. I have to sashay out there and bid the fondest adieu to Pixel Pete, the world’s most boring IT guy. Why’d I even swipe right on the guy? We have nothing in common—I’m pretty sure his idea of a good time is writing code. The dude has zero game and may still be a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I just don’t particularly want to walk him through the finer points of female anatomy.

Hard freaking pass.

With a heavy sigh, I wipe my sweaty palms down the thighs of my jeans and stand tall on my very-much-wasted-on-this-date stilettos. I slide the lock back on the stall and shove out into the dim restroom. Only to make eye contact with Jamie Ware, the biggest bitch in town. With her siren-red hair and matching lipstick staining her surgically enhanced pout, I couldn’t miss her if I tried.

Fuck my life.

Now I have two choices. I can: a.) dip back into the stall and fake a violent retching episode. Or b.) waltz over to the sink and wash my hands like a normal person.

Much as I’d love to go with option A, I saunter over to the sink, head held high.

“Hey, Gracie. How are you?” Jamie trills, flipping her long scarlet hair over her shoulder.

I really hate when people call me Gracie.

I glare at her in the mirror, my right eye on the verge of twitching.

“All alone now that your little friend’s shacking up in Florida?”

My gut clenches, bringing option A back into play.

“Great to see you too, Jamie. And not that it’s any of your damn business, but I’m not alone. I’m on a date.” I wrench at the faucet handle and water sprays out full-force, splattering out of the sink and turning bits of my gauzy white blouse sheer.

Shit.

I ratchet the pressure down, meeting her gaze in the dingy mirror. She arches a penciled brow and acts shocked.

“How nice for you. Another one-night stand in the books, then?”

My jaw clenches, hot anger bubbling in my veins. This bitch has been tormenting me since grade school and I am over it.

“You know a lot about those, I’m sure.”

She unsnaps her clutch, pulling out a tube of lipstick. Popping the lid, she swipes the deep red color across her bottom lip.

“No, that’s not really my style. I’m more of a long-term gal myself. And I’m not into the local dating scene, either. That’s so, I don’t know, passé, don’t you think?”

Considering I told her five seconds ago I was on a date with someone who’s most likely a local, no, I clearly do not think. But whatevs…

My cell vibrates in my pocket. Saved by the bell.

I quickly dry my hands, tapping the screen to life and reading the text.

Pete: It was nice to meet you. I had to jet. Take care

This is a first, even for me. A shock rolls through my system, with cool relief following close behind. Aggravation squeezes in there, too, because what the hell?

Pixel Pete couldn’t even wait for me to get out of the bathroom before he bolted. At least we can avoid the awkward end-of-date pleasantries and the “I’ll call you later” lies.

“Lover boy texting you already?” Jamie angles her head, trying to read the message. I shove the cell deep into my pocket. No need for her to know Pete has left the building.

“No. Just Sloane, checking in with me. We always text each other when we go out, to be on the safe side. The old buddy system, ya know? Oh—you probably don’t know because you don’t have any close girlfriends.”

Jamie purses her lips but doesn’t take the bait.

“I’d love to meet your date, Gracie. Care to introduce me?” She smooths an imaginary wrinkle out of her satin top, thrusting out her perfect breasts.

Under ordinary circumstances, I’d say no to this request. Now that Pixel Pete is M.I.A., it’s a hard fucking no.

“It’s early days, Jamie. Maybe another time.”

“Oh, right. I’m threatening, I get it. Happens to me a lot.” She fans her long, delicate fingers over her chest.

Oh, brother.

“No, not threatening.” I smooth my hair over my shoulder, locking eyes with her in the mirror. “More like aggravating as hell.”

She scowls at me and a long second passes, neither of us backing down. I silently will her to walk out first because I have no plan, other than ducking out the emergency exit and calling an Uber.

The door to the restroom crashes open, banging against the wall, and two women stumble in. Still, Jamie doesn’t budge as the ladies crowd us at the sink, giggling and talking loudly about the bartender. One of them turns on the faucet and water sprays me again, this time thoroughly dousing the lower half of my shirt.

“Ohmygosh, I’m so sorry.” She grabs at a stack of paper towels and starts awkwardly blotting my midsection.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” I ease away from her and the geyser of a faucet, Jamie hot on my heels. She’s so freaking close to me the heavy scent of her perfume stings my eyes.

Pushing out into the dim hallway, I frantically try to figure a way out of this jam. There’s no way in hell I want to admit to Jamie my date bailed on me. I can’t very well walk back to the empty table. That will be a dead giveaway.

Slowing my steps, I cast a quick glance over the crowd in the bar. Sure as shit, Pixel Pete is gone, our table sitting vacant in the corner. A large group of college-aged kids dance in the center of the room, high top tables shoved to the side of the makeshift dance floor. The bar’s packed, but I don’t see anyone I know.

Except Mack.

Sloane’s dad’s best friend and my mom’s next-door neighbor. He’s sitting alone near the end of the bar, drinking a beer and watching football on the television. A head taller than everyone else, with impossibly broad shoulders, he’s easy to spot. His arm flexes as he casually lifts his drink, his square jaw outlined by the neon lights behind the bar.

With a deep breath, I straighten my shoulders and strut confidently in his direction, Jamie right behind me like a fricking drug dog. Hopefully she can’t smell bullshit.

“Hey, babe.” I sidle up close to Mack, resting my hand on his forearm as if we’ve known each other for years.

Which technically we kind-of-sort-of have, but not in a touchy-feely dating kind of way.

He stares down at my hand for a second, and I silently will him to play along.

“Hey, Gracelyn. Everything okay?” He cocks an eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his full lips.

“Yeah, bathroom was fine. Clean. All good. The bartender didn’t come back with my drink yet?” I wave at the server, leaning over the wooden bar in Mack’s direction.

“Just go with it, okay? I’ll pay you back,” I whisper in his ear, the clean scent of his aftershave tickling my nose. I’ve never been this close to Mack before, never noticed how muscular he is, how he fills out his T-shirt in all the right ways.

“Ahem.” Jamie clears her throat, and I glance over my shoulder.

“Oh, you’re still here?” I wrinkle my nose and she stiffens, tipping her chin up.

“Hey. I’m Jamie.” She purrs her name, popping her lips out in a sultry pout, and thrusts her hand in Mack’s direction.

“Uh—hey.” He shakes her hand, more out of politeness than true interest. “Mack. I coach over at the high school.”

“Oh, I know. I see you at practice every day.”

Really? This is news to me.

“You do?” I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re stalking the high school football team now?”

Jamie lets out a high-pitched giggle, as if that’s the funniest joke she’s heard all year.

“No, silly. I took over as assistant coach for the dance team. We’ve been out on the field once or twice since school started. Most of the time the boys have it all to themselves, though, and we’re in the stinky old gym. But I’m so happy to officially meet you, Mack.” She flutters her false lashes at him and I swallow down the vomit, signaling to the bartender for another drink.

Luckily, he’s a regular—and took my drink order with Pixel Pete—so he knows I need another tequila on the rocks, stat.

“How long have y’all been dating?” Jamie asks and the corners of Mack’s lips tip up the teeniest bit as he takes a long slug from his beer bottle.

“Oh, a while.” I stroke Mack’s arm, trying to sell the story. His skin’s warm and smooth, veins popping over his muscles.

“Like a month or two? Funny you never mentioned such a handsome boyfriend all summer long.”

My cheeks heat under Jamie’s stare, heart pounding hard in my chest.

“Only my close friends know. Like my inner circle. Oh—I forgot. You don’t know about that sort of thing, I guess.”

Jamie glares at me.

“We were keeping things kind of chill this summer.” Mack snakes his arm around my hips and pulls me closer to him. I try not to panic as my ass brushes against his thick thigh and his fingers palm the round globe of my ass.

“Wow.” Jamie stares at the two of us in disbelief, her thin brows raised.

For once, I may actually have the upper hand on Jamie Ware.

Halle-freaking-lujah.

“Well, Mack—I hope to see you again real soon.” She flips her hair over her shoulder, locking her gaze on him.

“Yeah. See you around.” He nods at her, then turns his attention back to me, a sexy smile playing on his lips. A fluttery sensation rolls through my tummy and fingers of heat lick at my skin.

I keep my eyes trained on Mack for a full minute, not daring to turn around and risk blowing my cover. He doesn’t drop his hand from my ass, either, holding me in place against his hard body.

Now that I’m staring deep into his jade-green irises, I notice the laugh lines crinkling his tanned skin, the light stubble peppering his jaw, the line of perfectly straight white teeth, sandy curls peeking from beneath his ball cap.

The man is low-key hot.

Even if he is at least a decade older than me.

“Is she gone?” I mouth the words, trying to keep my voice low and barely audible.

“Not yet.” He leans in closer, his breath warm on my face. “She’s over in the corner, chatting with some people.”

“Shit,” I mutter. “Sorry, but could you just keep this going for like, a few more minutes, until she leaves? It’s a long story.”

Mack doesn’t answer and panic flashes through me. If he bails now, Jamie will know I was lying and that will be a million times worse than Pixel Pete walking out on me. Because how pathetic am I, that I had to lie about having a boyfriend?

Without taking his eyes off mine, Mack sets his beer down on the bar with a clink. He grips my hips and pulls me into him, settling me right between his spread thighs. Then he leans in and presses his mouth to mine in a soft, slow kiss.

He tastes like beer and masculinity, his lips rolling over mine, teasing. My heart hammers, blood whooshing in my ears as my mind races over nothing and everything all at once.

I’m kissing Sloane’s dad’s best friend in the middle of Mustang’s on a Saturday night.

And damn, it’s good.

Very, very good.

This man knows how to kiss, a shiver of pleasure rippling through me as he squeezes my ass. He slides a hand in the back pocket of my jeans and wetness floods my panties.

“How was that?” he murmurs against my lips and I smile, trying to catch my breath.

“Good. It was…good.”

“Okay, then.” He inches away slightly, cutting his eyes toward the corner. “She’s still looking over here, but she definitely bought it. Act natural.”

He kisses me again, lighter this time, then the bartender slides a drink in my direction. Mack takes that as his cue to scoot back and I reach for the drink, knowing my entire body’s flushed. The curse of fair skin, there’s absolutely no way to hide my feelings. I’m a freaking walking mood ring.

“Cheers.” Mack picks up his beer, clinking the bottle with my glass. I smile at him, happy I bested Jamie, at least for the time being. “Care to tell me what that was all about?”