EIGHT
WHAT HAD SHE been thinking? Making out with Darroch Breckenridge? Well, with anyone. It was a kiss. What was a kiss? Nothing. No big deal. So why was she still thinking about it?
“Put your name up,” Nessa said.
“My name?”
Right, yes, bowling. All day one game would follow another. Every team paid their entry fee and sponsorship, that money went into the charity pot. A percentage of the bowling alley’s takings also went to the winning team’s charity. Adding up food, drink, the arcade and game room, the prize pot would be heavy by the end of the day.
Sitting at their console, she added her name to the bottom of the list. Bowling wasn’t exactly her forte, but it would be fun. There were kids, families, friends, plenty of happy feeling and positivity.
“Hey, team!”
No, that sounded like—
“What a surprise,” Celeste exclaimed. “A welcome surprise.”
She couldn’t turn around, not if he was there. Why would he be there?
“You’re my team.”
In the corner of her eye, in the lane by theirs, Caber joined Luxe Leathers. And he wasn’t alone, young Astor was with him.
She whipped around kind of hoping to see cute, little Buoy, though wasn’t disappointed to find Dougie. His big brother was a much less welcome arrival.
“Come put your name on the computer, Dougie,” Yvette said. “I’ll show you.”
They approached, forcing her up, out of the way.
Drinks.
Maybe she should go get some drinks.
Yes, drinks.
Everyone needed drinks.
Hurrying from their lane to the dimly-lit drinks counter, she needed the time to get her head straight.
The team. That was why he’d showed up. Alice probably sent him there, with Dougie, to keep the boy entertained and support the company efforts. Yep, that was it. Corporate responsibility, civic duty, fraternal bonding. Admirable. And all completely unconnected to her… unconnected to the kissing.
A hand appeared either side of her on the bar just moments before something moved the hair at the side of her neck. Not something. Someone. Darroch Breckenridge’s face was buried in her hair, his heavy head on her shoulder.
“You smell incredible.”
“What are you doing?” she asked, wriggling to turn and face him. Whoa, bad idea, especially with him stooped so low. “You can’t touch me like that.”
“Because…?”
“My colleagues are right over there.” Her arm raised beneath his to sort of gesture in that kind of general direction, but fuck, her mouth dried and she swallowed hard. The memory was alive and burning her throat, boy, those lips, that temptation. “People might… they might…”
Unlocking his elbows, his advance was slow, but ended exactly where her mind put them, kissing again.
Except this one was short. Too soon, his elbows locked again.
“You want to keep this a secret?”
“This is not a this, it’s a—I don’t know what it is, but it’s not a this.”
“Okay,” he said, clearly amused. “I can play it cool in public.”
Maybe he could. Her heart beat in the pit of her stomach. The tempted intrigue of her curiosity roused her sleeping hormones. Darroch Breckenridge, in a million years, no one would’ve predicted this. It couldn’t be happening, couldn’t be real.
She had to give him a chance to come clean.
“Did you lose a bet?”
“What?” he asked.
“Your mom said you were competitive. Did you lose a bet? Is that what this is? You know like in the movies with the ugly duckling and the hot jock?”
He frowned. “Baby, why would you—”
“It’s Jeremy, isn’t it?” God, how stupid could she be? “You know him, don’t you? You’re friends. He put you up to this.” Shoving away from the bar, she pushed past his blocking arm. “Get a couple of pitchers of something for the team, please.”
The team. The charity.
She valued the work she and her colleagues did for good causes. More than just a way to pass the time, it was part of her identity. One she strived to continue and do better. If the Breckenridges, Darroch specifically, decided to include themselves indefinitely, what would that mean for her? This was her social life and her work life, her reason for getting up in the day. If both were taken from her…
Yvette split from the others grouped around the computer when she returned.
“What’s wrong with your face?” she asked.
“Me? What?”
“You look like you want to punch someone.”
“Oh, if only.”
“If only who?”
“Jeremy,” she said.
Yvette relaxed. “So nothing new there.” She smiled at her friend’s comforting tone. “You’ve got to get him out of your head. Don’t let him rule your life like this. Did he call?”
“Every time I think he’s gone for good, he always pops back up.”
“You have a responsibility to us married women to make the most of your singlehood. When was the last time you went out on a date?”
“Oh, God, I don’t even remember. I don’t even care.”
“There’s your problem. You need to get out there so the next time Jeremy calls, you can tell him where to get off. Better yet, your new guy should tell him where to get off.”
“Men are the last thing I want to deal with right now.”
Yvette hooked an arm around hers and drew her a few steps to the side. Darroch appeared over her shoulder, walking by with a tray of drinks.
“Got food on the way and set up a regular sugar drop off,” he declared to the group, sliding the tray onto the top of the screen. “Got to keep those energy levels high, this is a game of endurance.”
Yep, and for the next eight hours or so, she’d stay right there, with the group. No more wandering off, no chance he’d get her alone if she ignored him and stayed glued to Yvette. The joke may be on her, but she’d keep her defenses high. It wouldn’t last forever, couldn’t. The Breckenridges would get bored eventually. She hoped.