I do not roll my eyes.
But it’s hard.
Really hard.
“I’ll give you a heads-up,” he says, dropping his voice as he adds, “don’t get in too deep with my ex’s sister, okay? The Sunderwell girls are a good time until you put a ring on that crazy. Then it’s just nuts and cocoa puffs all the way down the line. Way more trouble than any pussy is worth, you feel me?”
My jaw clenches so tight something clicks near my ear as my hands curl into fists at my sides. But this snot weasel is as shitty at reading nonverbal cues as he is at keeping his marriage vows.
“Just come and go, if you get me.” He winks. “Come. And go.”
My fist is about to come and go—into his smarmy gut and back out again—when someone calls his name from the bar.
“Lance! What’s up, brother? Later, O’Dell.” Steve brushes past me, knocking my arm with his shoulder as he bolts for more socially elite company.
“Hopefully much later, you fucking asshole,” I mutter.
I’m considering texting Cassie and suggesting a change of venue—neither of us are Steve fans, after all—when a commotion at the back room catches my attention. I turn, and instantly the asshole is forgotten, and my heart feels ten years younger. I couldn’t hold back my smile if I tried.
There she is.
My Cassie.
She’s at the Ms. Pac-Man arcade game in back, spinning in a circle to take a round of high-fives from a motley mix of townspeople. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes alight with joy, her hair in twin braids that are as sexy as they are innocent, and I can’t wait to be close to her.
As close as I can get.
I’m across the bar, heading into the crowd around her before I realize I’ve moved.
“Ryan! Hey! Everything turn out okay with George?” she asks when I reach her side.
I don’t answer.
Instead, I bend and capture her lips with mine, circling my arms about her waist and pulling her in for a long, lingering kiss that stirs something deep in my chest even as it sends my cock into celebration mode.
Her hands drift up to clutch at my shoulders while she kisses me back, her tongue gliding against mine, her sweet nose brushing my cheek.
Forget a night out.
I’m taking her home. To my place.
I pull away from the kiss with a soft groan.
Cassie’s eyes are dark, her eyelids low. She licks her bottom lip and gives me an almost shy smile. “Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi.”
I’m grinning like an idiot, and I don’t care. Whispers of I knew it! and This is sooo going on InstaChat and Way to go, O’Dell! are filtering around us, but we both ignore them.
“That’s quite the congratulations for a high score in Ms. Pac-Man,” Cassie says with a sultry wink that puts a new kind of hum in my veins. One that says I’m a complete and total goner for this woman. “Or was that a pre-emptive I’m sorry kiss because you think you can do better?”
“Is that a challenge, Cassandra Sunderwell?”
“Maybe,” she says coyly. She swings her hips and grins. “And if you want to know if that’s a roll of quarters in my pocket or if I’m happy to see you, the answer to both questions is yes.”
I crack up, because she’s funny and perfect and how did I get to be the lucky guy she’s smiling at with stars in her eyes tonight? “Yeah, that’s a challenge,” I tell her, then I lean in so only she can hear me. “How about some stakes here? Winner gets breakfast in bed?”
“That’s hardly fair, since you don’t stand a chance.”
“You’re probably correct, but I don’t mind losing, since I’d still be getting breakfast with you.”
She giggles, and I reach into her pocket, where there is indeed a roll of quarters.
The music ends to a weak spatter of applause. “Thank you, Ruthie May,” Blake says into the microphone. “Next up is Olivia Moonbeam, singing ‘Call Me Maybe.’”
A few groans break out, but most of the crowd around Cassie and me breaks up and heads for the main dining area. Olivia might pick ridiculously perky songs, but she’s got an incredible voice.
“C’mon.” Cassie tugs me to face the machine. “Let’s see what you’ve got, O’Dell.”
“Other than a desperate desire to take you back to my place?” I ask.
She blushes, but she also smiles bigger. “We’ll get there. You have to woo me properly first.”
I like this flirty side of her. “You’re on.” I drop a quarter into the machine.
“And you’re off to a good start,” she tells me while she loops an arm around my waist and leans her head on my arm.
A camera flashes and clicks, and I suddenly realize it isn’t the first time I’ve heard that sound. There were a decent number of clicks snapping away while I was kissing Cassie hello.
I drop my hands from the game controllers and turn to her. “I’m sorry. The gossip—I didn’t think—I just wanted to kiss you. But there are probably pictures and I’m guessing they’ll be on InstaChat before we leave here tonight.”
She shrugs, surprising me. “There are far worse things than having people think I’m such a sex goddess Happy Cat’s hottest fireman can’t resist me.”
“Well, you are a sex goddess. But you’d better tell me the name of this fireman so I can kick his ass.”
She laughs, and it’s better music than anything we’re getting here tonight. “Ms. Pac-Man just got eaten by a ghost. In level one. Thus far, you are failing to impress me with your video game skills, Mr. Hot Fireman.”
I dutifully put another quarter in the machine. “I’m better at Out Run than Ms. Pac-Man,” I confess.
She glances past me at the next arcade game down with its gas pedal and steering wheel. “Oh, the car racing game?”
“Yep.” I fiddle the knob on the console, steering Ms. Pac-Man away from a killer ghost and completely missing a turn in a process. “I can outdrive you any day of the week, pigtails.”
“Is that commentary on my handling of my bicycle?” She brushes her breast against me, I get distracted, and once again, Ms. Pac-Man is toast.
“Do I need to get behind you and show you how to handle that joystick?” she asks.
Did she just…
She did. She made a sex joke. I arch a brow in her direction. “Cassandra Sunderwell, have you been practicing your dirty talk?”
She lifts her chin, her cheeks that shade of pink that’s both adorable and a little heartbreaking. I wish there was something I could do to help make her more at ease with talking about sex and sex toys and all the rest of it.
“No,” she says, “but I’ve been doing…other things. Sexy type things…”
Forget the beers and the Ms. Pac-Man. We’re getting out of here and going to my place right now.
Before the sheriff arrests me for indecency.
I turn to tell her we’re leaving as Blake emerges from the back hallway. “Hey, there you two are. You get a beer yet, Ry? Gonna need it. You’re up next for karaoke.”
“No, we’re—” I start, but Cassie claps her hands.
“Oh, good! I love karaoke. Thanks, Blake. You’re officially my second-favorite O’Dell brother.”
“And you’re my first official favorite O’Dell brother girlfriend,” he replies.
Cassie doesn’t correct him.
Neither do I.
And five minutes later, we’re both being shuffled to the stage. “Are you sure you want to karaoke with me? I’m not great.”
“Good. That’s the trick,” she whispers. “You sing really badly, and then they don’t ever ask you to do it again. We’re doing Three Dog Night’s ‘Joy To The World.’ Do you know that one?”
“Jeremiah was a bullfrog? Of course.”
“Awesome. Follow my lead, and sing really, really bad.”
I laugh and I follow her lead.
And we sing really, really badly.
So badly, we get booed off the stage.
But it comes with a round of nachos on the house to thank us for shutting up, and then Ruthie May buys us a round, followed by Blake buying us another round, and before long, we’re both tipsy.
Laughing.
Telling stories about childhood.
Recreating our scenes from Romeo and Juliet without actually remembering any of our lines except the one that comes right before the kiss.
And for the first time in a long time, there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. Even as it becomes clear that I’m not taking Cassie home while we’re both buzzed, I’m so damned happy I can’t stop smiling.
“Incoming!” A sudden shout from the front of the bar makes us all turn to face the entrance to see two teenage girls tossing dildos at a couple of Stetson-wearing boys at a front booth.
“Five points!” one shouts, high-fiving the other, who giggles as she points to the now pink-cheeked cowboys. “You should see your face! Three extra points our team for blushing on the sidelines.”
“Won’t be on the sidelines for long,” the blond boy says, grabbing the dildos from his chip basket and heading out the door, chasing the girls down the street with a grin.
The remaining boy thunks a palm against his forehead in mortification and everyone around us bursts into giggles. Including Cassie, but she also puts her hands to her cheeks. Even inebriated, the unexpected dildo assault makes her blush.
And suddenly, I know exactly what I have to do about that.
A plan takes shape in my head, and it’s so perfect, I can’t wait to start putting it into action.
And I will.
Just as soon as I’ve walked my tipsy girl home and tucked her safely into bed.
Nineteen
From the texts of Cassie Sunderwell and
Savannah Sunderwell
Cassie: I’m going to ask you three questions, and I need you to say yes to all of them.
* * *