Chapter 7
“Guys, find a woman!” Pilar bellowed from the top of one of the patio tables a couple of hours later. “Partner up, people!”
Clay watched as everyone, pretty well liquored up, did as she said.
“This is high stakes,” Pilar continued as if she were born to direct drunks in party games.
“The winning team will get two prizes—the king of all Super Soaker water guns for the guy and a gift certificate for a sixty-minute massage for the lady. You know you want it, folks. When you have your partner, line up at that end of the yard.”
“Get a woman, Clay,” Evan said, Selena’s arm through his. “I feel the need to defeat you. That prize is mine.”
Clay had to give Pilar credit—she’d done her research.
Almost all of the guys from the station collected super-powered water guns for the periodic water fights that broke out during slow times.
If anything would motivate this group to get into a ridiculous baby shower game, it was the biggest, baddest water gun.
That and a bunch of booze. Clay was no exception, even though he was stone-cold sober. The better to take down these lushes.
He spotted a group of three women eyeing him. He knew at least one of them was an ER nurse. Two were pretty and one was downright hot. Any of the three could make this game more bearable.
What the hell…he was itching to leave Evan in the dust.
As he took a couple of steps toward the trio, he noticed Andie standing by the fence alone. At the last second, he nodded, said, “Ladies,” and walked past them. They’d have no trouble finding other partners.
Andie was sending off a strong people-repellent as only she could do. That just made him more determined. If he went strictly by competitive instinct, the biker chick would be more of an asset than the softer, sweeter nurse types anyway.
“Come on,” he said to her, holding out his hand. “I need a partner. Have to put Evan in his place.”
“No, thanks,” Andie said. “There’s plenty of women on your tail tonight. Pick one of them.”
“I’m picking you. Have you ever had a professional massage?”
“Define professional,” she said.
“Come on, Andie. I can only stay for a little longer. Join me on the social side. You’ll have more fun if you’re not squeezed up against the fence trying to escape.”
She glanced around, and he discerned something he’d never expected from her—self-consciousness.
“I’ll play if you’ll take me with you when you leave,” she said. “You’re going soon?”
He studied this woman who was so different from all the others he knew.
Unlike everyone else, who’d dressed summer casual, Andie wore torn black low-rising jeans that hugged her long legs, a plain gray shirt and her black biker boots.
The shirt didn’t quite meet the jeans, showing off a navel piercing and the top edge of a tattoo.
Besides the belly-button ring, her only jewelry was a collection of small silver hoops that went up the edge of her ear.
She was tough-looking, unconventional, and she stuck out in this crowd.
But until he’d seen that hint of insecurity, he would’ve believed she dressed that way purposely, emphatically. As if to tell the world to fuck off.
“Everybody ready?” Pilar called out. “Come on, people, we’re going to start. Get to the fence and I’ll explain the rules.”
Andie stared at Clay, waiting for his answer but making no move to join the others.
“It’s a deal,” he said. “I’ll take you home with me.”
Andie frowned when Pilar explained the rules of the don’t-drop-the-baby game.
She’d never played party games as a kid, never been invited to parties then.
To be thrown into them now, with this group of happy freaking people.
.. Maybe she needed to take up drinking after all to get into the spirit, because right now she wasn’t feeling it.
The first game was a race, down the length of the huge yard and back.
Each couple had a water balloon—their “baby”—and they had to support it between their abdomens without using their hands.
If your balloon burst or fell, you were out.
If you touched it with your hands, you were out.
According to Clay “I Play for Blood” Marlow, out was not an option.
“Clay, you finally get to touch a woman,” Evan called out.
“Keep talking, Evan. You’re going down.”
“I don’t think so. My wife has a built-in shelf.” Evan set the balloon on top of Selena’s swollen belly and moved in close with his body.
“Respect the belly,” Selena said, and Andie laughed in spite of herself.
Then she sobered because Clay was suddenly inches away from her, pressing their “baby” gently against her and holding on to her waist. The scent of him enveloped her and sent her blood pumping without her permission.
His hands on the bare skin at her sides made her want to fidget—either closer to him or far, far away.
“Here’s our strategy,” he said in a low, intimate voice so no one else could hear. He leaned so close she could feel his breath on her skin, and she fought the sudden urge to taste him. She was pretty sure that was not the strategy.
She backed away a couple of inches because what she was feeling was ridiculous.
To him, this was a party game, and he was in the middle of the place he belonged, was obviously well liked and among good friends.
She was an outsider who would never fit in.
Getting bothered over Clay Marlow was futile and embarrassing.
“I’m going to hold your hips so we can keep just the right amount of pressure on the balloon,” he said. “I’ll go backward. You watch my back.”
Hold her hips. Great. “Terrific strategizing, chief. You do realize those water guns aren’t that expensive?” Andie said, attempting to distract herself from his closeness. “I bet if you saved your pennies for a couple of weeks you could buy one yourself.”
“Here’s a little something you women just don’t get. The sweetness of that gun will be quadrupled when I beat out Evan and everyone else for it.”
“Ah. Got it.”
“Good. Get ready for that professional rubdown then.”
She could think of a rubdown she’d prefer, but that wasn’t going to happen.
They moved to the starting line with the other couples, and it took some time for Pilar to shut everyone up enough that they could hear the signal to go.
True to his word, Clay didn’t take his hands off her hips once, and in spite of her best attempt to worry about the balloon, Andie couldn’t drag her attention from his strong hands and how they felt on her flesh.
Dammit. His hands were large enough he could wrap them almost all the way around her waist. The way they encircled her so easily…
it did things to her. Made her think thoughts better left unformed, unuttered, un-anything.
At the end of the yard, as they went around a chair to head back, she and Clay were in the lead. All the guys—and some of the women—were trash-talking as they went, yelling taunts and insults, howling whenever a couple got disqualified.
“Hey, Evan, you better slow down,” Clay said. “Don’t want Selena to go into labor.”
“Keep talking, man. We’re gaining on you.” Clay sped up, so Andie followed, grabbing his sides. They were close to the finish line—less than a third of the yard to go—when Clay sealed their fate. He tripped over a rock and went down. Andie lost her balance, too, and landed on top of him.
Just what she needed—becoming the center of attention when she already felt like a misfit. She reached for the ground to push herself up.
Clay’s arms came around her and he laughed. “Don’t run away. At least try to pretend falling on top of me isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.”
It wasn’t the worst thing. It was so not the worst thing that her heart was hammering. Which was exactly why she needed to move.
Andie scrambled up, not worrying about how that made Clay look, but rather the way he made her feel.
She belatedly realized the balloon had burst and a cool liquid seeped into her jeans.
Clay swore good-naturedly, of course, because wasn’t he just a good guy all around, even when his clothes were soaked and he landed on the ground in front of everyone?
He hopped up and brushed himself off, then touched Andie’s waist. Unable to take another second of close contact, she inched away.
“Yes! The mother of all soakers is mine!” Derek’s voice rose over the noise as everyone else who hadn’t been disqualified earlier hit the finish line.
“Sorry about that,” Clay said to Andie. “I take full blame.”
“Somehow I’ll make it,” Andie said dryly, smiling and relaxing a little when she realized attention was now on the winning couple.
Clay high-fived Derek and Macey. “Glad you two beat Daddy Drake over there. He’ll get enough loot tonight as it is.”
“What happened?” Macey asked. “You were ahead of all of us.”
“There’s a rock jutting from the ground out there,” Clay said, pointing. “Likely planted by Evan.”
Pilar’s husband, Curt, delivered the coveted gun and an envelope with the gift certificate.
“Yesss,” Macey said. “I’m going to need this in the next week. My hero.” She hugged her fiancé.
Derek took his prize and, after kissing his partner long and hard, went to find a hose. Macey and Andie shook their heads as Pilar announced the next game.
Andie was aware that Clay had sidled next to her before she turned her head. Before he spoke.
“Biker girl, you going to be my partner again?”
“Not a chance. You’ll have to find someone else.” Without checking his reaction, she wished Macey luck and hurried off to her corner to wait for her ride home—as far removed from Clay’s world as possible.
“Ready to go?” Clay asked later.