Chapter 6
A HARD TIME
Dev
I’m still holding the hammer as the bell rings loud, shrill and damn satisfying.
“Now that’s just showing off,” Aubrey says as she points to the top of the high striker game, where I’ve hit the puck and sent it to the top fucking level. I mean, what else was I going to do? Not hit it hard?
“Sorry, not sorry,” I say. “I’m also not sorry I beat Ledger.”
From his place next to the guy operating the game, Ledger rolls his eyes. “Yeah, those are the stats that matter. The pucks I hit in carnival games.”
“A puck’s a puck,” I say.
When Aubrey said she wanted to do everything, she meant everything. We’ve ridden the roller coaster, the swings, the Tilt-A-Whirl. We’ve thrown darts, played Skee-Ball, and now, swung mallets.
I place the hammer down and quickly fire off a text to Garrett, letting him know Aubrey’s doing okay—or as okay as can be expected on a day like this.
It’s her turn, and she’s assessing the mallet and the lever. Since I’m unable to resist a challenge, I step closer. “Want a tip?”
“Like, develop sick lats and big biceps in the next five seconds?”
I smile. “That, or focus on technique. Start with the hammer high above your head, let gravity pull it down, then use your hips and thighs as you lower yourself into the shot.”
She blinks. “Piece of cake,” she deadpans.
“Or I can show you,” I offer.
Ledger chuckles under his breath. “Of course you can.”
“Mock me for being helpful,” I say, then wait for her answer.
“Sure. Show me,” Aubrey says with a gamer spirit.
I move behind her, reach around her waist, and lift the hammer with her…but should I really be this close to Garrett’s little sister? I’m here to help her forget about her shitty ass ex, not to flirt.
I move back a few inches.
Aubrey turns her neck to look at me. “Dev, you can press your body against mine. I’m not going to get ideas. Don’t worry about that.”
She’s direct. More than I’d expected, but I appreciate the permission. “Okay.” I wrap my arms around her more fully, and…damn. She’s not supposed to feel this good in my arms.
Everything aligns. Her neck near my lips, her hair close to my nose, her lithe back pressed to my chest. I steal a sniff of her nape. Her perfume is fading, but the faint remnants of something sweet linger, like a summer fruit.
Don’t do it. Don’t ask her what her perfume is, man. Just don’t. “Just don’t hold it so tight,” I bite out, then slide our joined hands down a tiny bit. “You need to relax a little more.”
Or maybe I do.
She loosens her hold slightly.
“Perfect,” I say, and since my work here is done, I jump away, giving my dick some breathing room. “Then you bring that hammer down like it’s headed for Aiden’s face.”
She tosses her head back, laughing in utter delight. “Well, why didn’t you just say that?”
Aubrey lifts the mallet, takes aim, and slams the hammer hard, letting out a loud oomph. She doesn’t ring the bell, but she lights up the lever to the halfway point and shouts out a yes.
After she thanks the striker operator, she throws her arms around me.
I learned my lesson from the lesson, though, so I give her a good, friendly hug.
When I break it, she closes the distance between herself and Ledger.
She high-fives him, then her brow knits.
Like she’s unsure if she should hug him too.
He doesn’t initiate it. But she must think fuck it, since she wraps her arms around him as well. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he grumbles.
She lets go and smiles at him, then me. “You both did.” She takes a beat, exhales. “You both did a lot today.”
Ah, hell. Taking care of her today was a gift. “I’m so glad Garrett called on us,” I say, holding her gaze. Her eyes shine.
After a beat, Ledger grunts out, “We’re here for you. Whatever you need.”
Her smile turns more emotional. She bites the corner of her lips. And oh, shit. Is she going to cry again? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised. She draws a deep breath, then parts her lips like she wants to say something, an admission of some sort. Instead, she says, “Up for more?”
“Always.” I gesture to the rest of the amusement park. “Carnival shooting range? Roaring rapids? Ferris wheel?”
Ledger shudders at the last one.
Aubrey cocks her head, looking his way. “You hate Ferris wheels?”
“You mean death wheels,” he corrects.
“That’s a yes then,” she says, then studies him. “You’re not afraid to play a dangerous game for a living, where you could get body checked, hit by a stick, a puck, or a bear of a man, but Ferris wheels are terrifying?”
“Sounds about right,” Ledger says.
Aubrey whips her gaze to me. “Are you afraid of Ferris wheels?”
I shake my head. “Since it’s not a snake, nope.” I have plenty of other fears too, like, say, what if I could never play hockey again? But no need to discuss those now.
“Snakes and Ferris wheels,” Aubrey says, tapping her temple. “Got it. So when I plan a perfect day for both of you to say thanks for whisking me away, I’ll just make sure it doesn’t involve snakes or Ferris wheels.”
The fact that she wants to say thanks makes me feel better than it should. So I shift gears. “Hey! How about bumper cars?”
“Perfect,” she says, then she hightails it ahead of us, a woman who knows what she wants. I stare at her as she walks, enjoying the view far too much.
For far too long.
Till I realize Ledger’s staring at her too.
The same damn way.
I suppose that shouldn’t come as a surprise. This isn’t the first time we’ve had the exact same interest in a woman.