Chapter Seven
She partook of ladylike games in a ladylike manner, but when called upon to participate in gentlemanly endeavors, she executed her role regimentally as if she’d been a general in a previous life.
—The Temptress of Pecan Lane, by Mae Daniels
Afew minutes later, Lance carried two PVC ladders out of the garage. Jackson followed with the bolas, which were thin ropes anchored with golf balls on either end. Bama colors for Lance, Ole Miss for Kaci.
The guys set up the ladders about twenty feet apart.
There were three rungs on each. One point for wrapping a bola around the bottom rung, two points for the middle rung, three points for the top.
Lance and Kaci took their positions at one ladder, while Anna and Jackson stationed themselves at the other.
Kaci was up to toss first, so Anna scooted as close to the pool and far away from the ladder as possible.
After Kaci’s first toss went wild, Jackson joined her. “Guess this might could take a while.”
“Mm-hmm.” His drawl was growing on her. If he talked to his commanding officers like that, she doubted he’d be in the Air Force long, but that didn’t matter to Anna.
Nope, not at all.
But he was watching her like he thought she was worth watching.
And it couldn’t be bad for her to feel attractive for one night, could it?
Nothing wrong with feeling good.
She snapped her attention back to the game. Kaci wound up to toss her second bola at the ladder. It didn’t matter how Jackson looked at Anna, because that zinging thing in her chest that kept happening when he looked at her was margarita chemistry, not commitment.
He was like a practice date. A Kaci-approved, non-dangerous, practice date.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, vigilantly watching Kaci. “So how’s the old ant-mobile?”
“Ant-free for over a month now, thank you.”
Kaci’s toss came up short. Lance wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her through the proper tossing technique.
Jackson tucked his hands under his arms. “You ever get to wondering if she’s tossing bad on purpose?”
“Used to, but I don’t anymore.”
In the sparse light, his eyes looked like midnight. “So is she acting?”
“That’s a three-point question.”
“Gonna be like that, is it?” He rubbed his chin. “All right then.”
The grin he gave her made her nether regions quiver.
They were practicing being on a date too.
Kaci’s last bola, thrown with Lance’s assistance, neatly wrapped the two-point rung. Lance stepped up for his turn. “No cheating,” Anna called.
Lance gave her a mock salute.
Then he hooked the top rung.
“Three points,” Jackson said. “So is she acting?”
Anna shook her head. “She understands the principles, but she’s the reason people talk about throwing like a girl. She can’t quantify the force in her arms.”
“You might could think about taking statistics instead of thermo. Your odds here ain’t looking good.”
It was Anna’s turn to grin at him.
After Lance’s last toss, the guys were up four to two. She scampered around the yard grabbing her bolas while Jackson unwrapped two of his and snagged the third one at his feet. When she stepped back into the game, he gestured for her to go. “Ladies first.”
“Nuh-uh. Whoever’s partner scored most last round goes first. You’re up.”
“House rules?” Jackson called to Lance.
Lance hid a laugh behind a cough. “Go on and let her go last.”
Jackson tested the weight of his bola. “You play dirty?”
“Three-point question.”
It took him all three tosses, but he draped a bola over the three-point rung. Anna stepped up and stared down the target.
“You gonna tell me if you play dirty?” he said.
“Maybe.” She lined up, gave her bola a tentative swing, and let it fly.
It wrapped around Jackson’s bola and pulled it off the ladder.
She flashed a triumphant grin. “Don’t think I need to answer that now, do I?”
“That’s just one kind of dirty.”
“You go, sugar,” Kaci called. “How about you rustle us up some points now?”
At the end of Anna’s turn, the guys were still ahead, four to three. Anna scooted close to the pool again when Lance handed Kaci her bolas. Jackson stepped up next to her. “So how’s a Yankee girl get to be a redneck golf shark?”
“Raw talent combined with a little bit of a buzz.” Once the margarita wore off all the way, she’d probably get so tense from being this close to him that she’d start throwing worse than Kaci usually did.
Kaci’s first toss sailed clear over the ladder and hit the fence. Jackson chuckled. “Sure hope she ain’t planning on tossing her bouquet.”
She scored two points on her next toss, but her last throw went wild.
Anna tried to skitter out of the way. Jackson ducked the same way, and they bumped shoulders.
The bola plopped into the pool beside them.
He reached a steadying hand to her, and a shiver slinked down her arm and straight to a couple of other parts that hadn’t had any attention in a long while. “Okay?” he asked.
Anna sprung away and brushed her hair out of her face. “Oh, sure. You betcha. Just peachy. At least I’m not wet.”
So to speak.
He glanced at the pool. She did too. The bola floated to the bottom in a slow circle. Waves rippled out on the surface of the water, shimmering in the floodlights. If she could see her own panic level, it would probably look something similar.
“Oopsies,” Kaci said.
Jackson gave Anna an amused once-over. “Darlin’, this one’s gonna cost you.”
“I’ll go get the pool skimmer.”
That made him grin bigger. “You afraid of the water, or you afraid of having fun?”
She was afraid of what seeing him wet might do to the funny thumping in her chest.
He snagged his shirt behind his neck and stripped it off in one smooth motion. “Mind holding that for me?”
Reflex made her accept the warm fabric. She caught a flash of solid chest, a tiger paw tattoo and a sprinkling of dark hair. Her mouth went dry. He hopped into the pool, then dove down in one fluid stroke to snag the bola off the bottom.
Anna gulped. Her thighs quivered and her heart banged her chest so hard she checked to make sure her breasts weren’t bouncing.
He surfaced and held the bola up.
She reached for it and fumbled it twice before she had a solid grip on it, and even then, she almost dropped it back into the pool.
He pushed up out of the water and grabbed a towel. He gave his head a quick rub-down, making the muscles in his arms flex and stretch. Droplets sluiced down his chest and abdomen toward his waistband.
He tossed the towel aside, then pinned her with an amused look while he held out his hand for the shirt.
Caught. She nodded at his tattoo, which had the number 33 in the middle of the paw.
“Huh. Thought that’d be your momma’s name.
” Her voice almost sounded normal. She surrendered the shirt, praying it didn’t have any sweat marks from her clammy hands, and turned her back on him.
She waved to Lance. “Ready when you are.”
Jackson stepped up beside her, his shirt on again thank God, and quietly watched Lance score a couple more points.
But once they’d gathered the bolas to take their turns, that ornery spark returned. “Sure you don’t want to go first?”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
“Starting to think you’re fixing to throw the game so you can get into my kitchen.”
If he’d promise to help with his shirt off… “Interesting. How big is it?”
“What you really gotta be thinking about is how I plan to use it.” He lined up for his first throw. “You watch this right here. I’m gonna show you the right way to ring a three-pointer.”
Anna suppressed a smile. “Uh-huh.”
“What? You think I can’t do it?”
She rolled her shoulders back. She’d forgotten the thrill that came with flirting. “Everybody gets lucky now and then.”
He chuckled. “Tell you what. I hit this one, you tell me how late you were to class that day we met.”
She hoped Kaci was right about his momma raising him right, or she’d be answering too many personal questions tonight. “And when you miss?” she said with more composure than she felt.
“If I miss. Whatcha wanna know?”
The heat must’ve melted what was left of her brain, because she couldn’t think of a single decent question. “Why you thought of the Windex,” she finally said.
“Deal.” He let the bola fly. It circled through the air, then hit the three-point rung and wrapped itself neatly around.
That one would be impossible to knock off. “Sixteen minutes. My professor gave a pop quiz to start the semester, and I flunked it because I wasn’t there.”
He winced. “Aw, jeez, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I was already late before I saw the ants. My fault. Bet you can’t hit another three-pointer.”
“Been late since?” he prompted.
“Two-pointer. I still want to know about the Windex.”
He tossed his second bola and ringed the one-point rung. He glanced at her, then grinned an unabashed grin. “Saw it in a movie.”
“Which movie?”
He gestured toward the ladder. “Two-pointer.”
His toss fell short.
“Movie?” she prompted.
He raked a hand over his short hair, and she noticed a hint of curl at the ends. “Can’t remember the name. Some girly flick with big hair and ugly dresses.”
What did Windex have to do with big hair and— “And a wedding?”
“Sounds about right. Kaci hog-tied me and Lance and glued our eyeballs open so we had to watch it all. Didn’t mind the hog-tying part, but that glue gunked up my eyes for weeks.”
He’d used My Big Fat Greek Wedding to make himself look good.
And then he’d admitted to it. Wasn’t something most guys she knew would’ve done. “Your eyes looked fine to me.”
“Shucks, ma’am, your eyes look real fine too.”
So did his smile. But despite the weird flippy-do in her belly, she had to laugh. “I walked right into that.”
“Sure did.”
“C’mon, Anna,” Kaci called. “Get us back in the running.”