by Tia Souders
Her mother waved him inside. He practically walked on air as he joined them in the kitchen, like he was part of the family.
Jinny’s jaw clenched as he made his rounds, greeting everyone in sight. He even said hello to her Aunt Penny out the kitchen window. Everyone except her.
He had yet to acknowledge her presence as Dean engaged him in some ridiculous conversation about a new machine they got at the gym.
She straightened, snatching her water bottle off the counter, and took an angry drink. Emmett’s lips twitched as Dean spoke with him, and she could tell he was repressing a smile. He was trying to get under her skin. Like she cared if he said hello. She was glad he finally took the hint and pretended she didn’t exist.
Where had she gone wrong? The day had been perfect. She woke up at just the right time, wore the right clothes, ate the right breakfast. The weather was perfect. Her favorite song came on the radio on the way there. Even Betsy had been at the top of her game. How could this—of all things—be happening?
Today was her day to shine, and Emmett was like a giant rain cloud blocking her rays from reaching the ground, darkening everything in his path.
Dean said something and tipped his head in her direction, causing Emmett to laugh.
Oh no they didn’t. They weren’t going to talk about her like she wasn’t there. But she hadn’t heard what they said. As she focused on their conversation, she realized, to her horror, that Dean was explaining the Kimball Olympics to him. LIKE HE MIGHT PLAY.
Over her dead body.
She leapt forward to stop them but was slightly off with her trajectory. The side of her body crashed into Emmett, but he didn’t even budge. He just stood there, a giant, stupid wall of muscle. He may as well have been made of concrete.
Everyone turned to stare at her while Emmett’s right hand shot out as she wobbled, steadying her so she didn’t fall. She tried to ignore the way his touch singed her skin and instead focused on shooting death rays from her eyeballs.
“He’s not a Kimball. He can’t play,” she said.
Dean glared at her. “Callie’s not a Kimball, and she plays.”
“Nuh-uh. Technically, she is going to be a Kimball.”
“Yeah, but she’s been playing for years.” Dean pointed out.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her mother lingering by the front door, readying herself to come back inside. If Jinny didn’t hurry, her mother’s scorn would crush her efforts to disqualify Emmett from play.
“He’s injured.” Jinny motioned to Emmett’s bum leg. It was a low blow, but the truth hurt.
Emmett merely grinned his infuriating smile, dimples on full display. God, she hated them—always screaming, look at me, look at me, like they were something special.
“Good thing I have this really amazing therapist. She’s actually at the party. I’m sure she’ll keep me in check,” Emmett said at the same moment her mother approached them.
“Jinny, you didn’t tell me you were treating Emmett, but I guess I should’ve known.”
“Yes, it’s lovely,” Jinny said in a bland voice. “He’s a picture perfect patient.” From Hades.
Emmett smirked and leaned back against the counter as her father appeared from around the corner, offering him a beer.
“Dad, it’s eleven o’clock,” Jinny protested.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere. Am I right, Hall?” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
Sir? SIR?!
Her father shot her a look as if to say, See, he’s a keeper. There was nothing he loved more than respect for authority. It was probably why she was his least favorite.
Jinny grunted. She was losing.
Ignoring her, Dean turned to their mother. “Emmett can compete. Right, Mom?”
Her mother paused a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I don’t see why not.”
“Thanks. You’re the best.” Dean flashed her a triumphant smile.
Her mind reeled, grasping for a reason for her mother to take her side. “Mom, let’s be real for a moment. How is Emmett supposed to do a sack race with a torn ACL? As his therapist, I cannot sign off on this kind of activity. I’m only thinking of his well-being. We all should.” She let her words hang in the air, placing a hand over her heart in a solemn oath.
“We’ll choose a different event instead,” her mother said.
What? “Different event? Um, no. You can’t switch things up like that. You—”
Jinny bit her tongue at her father’s warning glare. Behind him, Dean looked way too happy and her mother scowled.
Everyone had come unhinged. She was the only sane one in the house.
She had no idea what Emmett had said to her mother in the two minutes they had chatted outside or what kind of mind games he was playing with her father, but clearly, they were brainwashed. She blamed it on the dimples. They were hypnotic.
With a huff, Jinny watched as her father handed Emmett a beer.
Jinny’s mother lifted the fruit tray in offering. “Hungry?”
Jinny gaped at her. Since when did her mother allow them to eat the prepped food before mealtime? If Jinny had tried that, she’d get a finger lobbed off.
With a smug grin, Emmett reached over, grabbed a handful of cantaloupe chunks, and crammed them in his mouth. Her mother smiled like he was the prodigal son returned. When she told him to make himself at home and scurried outside to greet Uncle Ed, Jinny turned on him.
“You’re an animal,” Jinny said. “Go ahead. Fill up on carbs and booze. By all means, please dehydrate your muscles before we compete. Maybe they’ll atrophy and you’ll get an arm cramp during Pick the Pickle.”
Emmett took a long drag on his beer, washing down the cantaloupe.
Jinny grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”
“Nice to see you, too.” Emmett grinned. “Tell me, how was your coffee with Snooze Fest.”
Jinny narrowed her eyes at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
She took a step toward him, like a lion stalking its prey. “You know, it’s bad enough I have to see you Monday through Friday; you just had to come and ruin my weekend, too?”
“Puh-lease.” He plucked a strawberry off the tray and popped it into his mouth.
She watched him chew, transfixed by his mouth for a moment and the way his jaw worked—he had really nice mandibles.
What in the world was she thinking?
She yanked her gaze away as he swallowed.
“Seeing me is the highlight of your day. All the moments in between are filler,” he said.
“More like the fiery pits of hell,” she muttered.
“Um, maybe we should…” Callie trailed off.
Out of the corner of Jinny’s eye, she noticed Callie tug on Dean’s arm and pull him from the kitchen. Jinny had forgotten they were there. She had been too busy with her staring contest with Emmett to care.
Now that she thought about it, Dean inviting Emmett made perfect sense. Obviously he sensed he would lose this year, and he’d invited him along as a distraction. It was all tactic. The sneaky jerk.
Well, Big Bro was about to be disappointed because he’d just fueled her fire.
Emmett leaned back against the counter, beer in hand, like he hadn’t a care in the world. When he finally removed his aviators, his eyes were trained directly on her. Their vibrant hazel punched her in the gut. Suddenly, she wished she had done more with her appearance than a sloppy pony and lip gloss. But, come on. This was an athletic competition. Not a beauty pageant. Dean could die a slow death for even making her think twice about it.
“Afraid you’ll lose?” Emmett asked.
“Psh, not likely. I’m just afraid you’ll further injure your sorry butt, and then I’ll be stuck with you till the day I die.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little too soon for a marriage proposal?”
“Funny.”
Emmett set his beer on the counter, his expression placid. Lifting his sunglasses to his mouth, he
puffed a breath of hot air onto them and wiped the smudges from the lenses with the hem of his shirt, revealing a sliver of his toned torso.
Jinny swallowed, wrenching her eyes away from the triangle of skin. He was playing games with her head, trying to distract her.
Well, not today, Hall.
“Call it what you want. I see fear in your eyes,” he said.
“Ha. That’s just me forcing down the vomit from the back of my throat.”
“Care for a little wager?” Emmett asked as he perched the sunglasses on the top of his ball cap. His boyish appearance was disgustingly appealing.
“Fine.” Jinny crossed her arms and tipped her chin. “What are the terms?”
“If you win the Kimball Olympics, I’ll leave. I won’t even stay for so much as a burger. And if I win...” He trailed off, pursing his lips.
He was toying with her. Jinny could see it in his eyes. He already knew what the stakes would be, but he wanted to drag this out.
Jinny arched a brow, letting him know she wasn’t playing his game.
“If I win,” Emmett said slowly, taking a step toward her.
Her breathing hitched.
Now, who was the prey?
“You have to kiss me,” he murmured.
CHAPTER ten
Jinny
Round 1
Jinny rolled her head on her neck, working out the kinks.
All of the contestants lined up, facing off in front of a massive row of folding tables. The first event had yet to be announced, and the tables were no giveaway—a lot of the games required the use of a level surface.
Her mother explained the rules while Jinny only half-listened. She’d heard them a million times, knew them all by heart. Everyone was ranked per event, with the person at the bottom being dropped from the competition. With each new game, their scores were recalculated. Whoever finished with the most points after round ten was the winner. Even someone as thick-headed as Emmett could understand the rules.
Jinny waited as her mother announced the first game. Coinhole. It followed the same concept as cornhole, except instead of tossing bean bags into the hole on a large board, you had to bounce a quarter onto a tiny board with a small opening.
It was much harder than cornhole. With no practice, it was practically impossible to score well.
Jinny dared a glance at Emmett across from her and gave him a pitying smile. He had removed his sunglasses, so she could see the flecks of green in his eyes.
“Nice knowin’ ya, Hall.” She gave him a little wave, but he said nothing.
Instead, he raised a brow and lifted his ball cap, turning it backward and resituating it on his head.
Jinny flexed her fingers. She refused to lose focus just because he looked kinda cute with his hat turned backward.
What was it with men and baseball caps that was so appealing?
“Don’t go getting all distracted staring at me, slim. Wouldn’t want you to miss the starting call because you’re too busy ogling.”
Jinny offered a tight smile. “Actually, I was just thinking I should thank you. You did me a favor. Your giant body’s blocking the sun from my eyes.”
“So, you admit to checking out my body.”
“That’s not what I—” She snapped her mouth shut. “Nice try goading me, but it won’t work.”
“I should feel violated.”
She rolled her eyes, ignoring him. She needed to focus.
She flexed her fingers. Coinhole was all about the flick of the wrist, the bounce of the quarter toward the mini-board.
She did some shoulder rolls and cracked her knuckles, ignoring the way Emmett leaned over the table as the boards were laid out in front of them, fingers twitching at the ready.
Her mother held the whistle between her teeth and raised her arm. The second she blew the whistle, Jinny snatched her quarter from the table and began.
∞∞∞
Round 4
Jinny clapped her hands. Bring it on.
She was two for four, with Dean taking one and Emmett taking one. Callie had already been eliminated, which led to her being teased mercilessly. Even their seventy-eight-year-old Uncle Ed with his walker managed to last longer.
A bubble of excitement filled Jinny’s chest, but she worked to suppress it. She was off to a good start, but she had a long way to go. If she got too cocky, things could fall apart.
“Next competition,” her mother announced, “is Nut Stack.”
Emmett chuckled. “Not to be confused with—”
“Really mature,” Jinny snapped.
“The objective of the game is to stack as many iron nuts as you can on top of your plastic cup. You have one minute,” her mother explained. “If your tower topples, you have to start from the beginning.”
“Easy,” Emmett cooed.
Jinny gritted her teeth. Did he have to comment on everything?
“But there’s a catch,” her mother added. “You have to use chopsticks.”
Jinny filled with joy as she watched Emmett’s smile fade.
“Where’s your confidence now, Hall?” She snickered. “You know, if you want to bail out now, I wouldn’t blame you. It wouldn’t make you any less of a man.” She cocked her head. “Well, not really.”
Emmett’s lips twitched. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? That way, there’s no chance of me winning.”
“Am I that obvious?” Jinny feigned innocence then rolled her eyes. Glancing over at Dean to ensure he was out of earshot, she leaned over the table and hissed, “Who knows what I’d catch if I had to lock lips with you.”
“Or there’s another reason you’re afraid I’ll win.”
“What? Like having to endure all afternoon watching you schmooze my family?”
Emmett shook his head and shrugged, a smarmy grin on his face.
He was trying to act all nonchalant, but he wasn’t fooling her. She wouldn’t bite. She didn’t need to know.
She crossed her arms over her chest as her mother tucked her whistle between her teeth. Whatever Emmett hadn’t said was irrelevant.
“Fine,” Jinny all but barked. She had to know! “What is that you think I’m so afraid of?”
Emmett met her gaze. “You’re scared you might like it.”
The whistle blew, catching Jinny off guard, but that must’ve been his plan all along because Emmett immediately jumped into action. The cheater.
He already had two nuts stacked by the time Jinny even picked up her chopsticks. With her pulse racing, she worked, trying to will herself to calm down. She was still in this.
∞∞∞
Round 7
Dean 2; Emmett 3; Jinny 2.
It was her worst nightmare. How could she be losing? And not just losing. But losing to him?
Because Emmett played dirty. That’s why.
The nut trick had thrown her off her game. His win in Nut Stack put a chink in her confidence, which led to her defeat at apple bobbing—an event she always prided herself on dominating.
The work the man could do with his teeth and mouth was astounding. He’d smoked everyone. Jinny broke out into a sweat just thinking about it.
But all was not lost. There was plenty of time to catch up and take home the trophy. So when Callie brought out the tissue boxes, Jinny smiled.
Junk in the Ba-Dunk-a-Dunk. No one shook their booty like Jinny. No one.
Wait. Hadn’t Callie mentioned something about Dean practicing for this particular event?
Jinny’s gaze darted to Dean, and she sneered as they each received an empty tissue box. Promptly strapping hers around her waist, she waited as they received their instructions.
Each contestant had eight ping pong balls inside the tissue box that they had to shake out of the opening without the use of their hands, forced to rely on their hips and butt.
Good thing she did all those squats. Her glutes were prime.
An image of Emmett getting out of his car that morning flickered across her thoughts. W
hat had she called him? Mr. Nice Booty?
She glanced at him, and he winked at her.
Ugh. It was like he could read her mind. So he had a nice butt. So, what?
She spread her legs, readying herself to pop her booty like Beyoncé in a music video. She’d drop it down. Drop it low. These balls didn’t stand a chance.
The whistle blew and Jinny began shimmying.
She told herself not to look, to focus only on her own ping-pong balls, her own tissue box. Eyes in your lane, Kimball, she told herself.
But her eyes were traitorous. She glanced beside her to see Emmett had already released four of his. What the—
Inspiration hit. Emmett wasn’t the only one who could shake his rump.
Jinny bounded in front of Emmett, looking like a dancing hippo. She planted herself smack dab in front of him, and shook, shimmied, bounced—did everything in her arsenal to release those balls and distract the undistractible, the uber focused, Emmett.
Sweat beaded her brow and her breathing grew heavy. Her lungs burned.
When she risked a glance back at him, she noted the dead stare and slack-jawed expression. He had all but stopped shaking his hips.
“Ahahaha,” she laughed, but the sound snapped Emmett from his trance.
She fell silent as he reentered the game with renewed vigor. But it was too late. Jinny had released all but one of her balls, and when the last one popped out, she jumped in the air, hooting in victory and pumping her fist like she’d just won the Super Bowl.
She passed Emmett, stretching her legs out as she strutted, taking a victory lap around him and giving the crowd a round of high fives as Emmett watched on, lips curling at the corners.
He shook his head, trying to suppress his grin, and her stomach clenched in response.
When she finally stilled and stood beside him, slightly out of breath, he murmured, “Well played, Miss J. Well played.”
Chapter eleven
Emmett
Round 10
