by T. S. Joyce
As she rambled, Amos stared at her lips with this faraway smile on his mouth. “What?” she asked softly, baffled.
Amos shook his head slightly. “Nothing. Just think you look pretty tonight is all.”
That old saying about a boy giving a girl butterflies had never made a lick of sense until this very moment.
His nostrils flared slightly as he relaxed back and gave his attention to Ally, who was still standing there, now sipping a margarita and staring back and forth between him and Leanna. “I’m originally from Massachusetts, but ended up going to school out in Washington near Seattle. I moved around a bit when I graduated but always came back to where it felt like home. Got in some trouble and moved out here to cut off the crowd I was hanging with. What about you?” he asked politely.
“Here. I mean I went to college in Idaho, but I did the same. Came back here when I was done with school. Your eyes are very unusual. In a good way!” she amended. “It’s hard to look away from them. I bet those eyes get you lots of girls.”
“They don’t get me a lot of girls, but they do get me into more trouble than I’d like,” he said mysteriously. “Do you mind if I steal your friend? I want to see how good she is at pool.”
“Oh,” Ally said, clearly disappointed. Miranda and Holly had sidled up to their conversation and were listening in. “Sure. Of course.”
Leanna grabbed their beers and Amos grabbed the plate of steaming fries from the bartender and asked her to put it on his tab. Leanna gave the confused-looking trio of women a wave with her pinky finger as she followed Amos to the pool table in the corner.
“Oh my gosh,” she whispered as she sidled up to Amos. “You are awesome.”
“We can give the town something fun to talk about tonight,” he murmured against her ear.
“I’m in,” she said excitedly.
Amos set the plate of food onto the two-seater table near the pool table, then took the drinks from her hand and set them down. He pulled her in suddenly, gripping her waist and swaying to the beat of the country song someone had chosen from the jukebox.
“Is it okay if I dance with you?” he asked.
“You already are,” she joked, slipping her arms over his shoulders and settling into the rhythm. For the first few seconds, she wondered if the women were watching and she grew self-conscious, but then Amos worked his magic and made the entire bar fade away.
His eyes probably did cause a lot of trouble, but not for him. She felt hypnotized, and excited, and special, and had all the tingly sensations a good man’s touch on a waist could produce.
His face softened as he searched her eyes and he pulled her in even closer, until her cheek was resting against his chest. “I’m glad you called me tonight.”
“Glad I called you panicking about my old life?”
“You could’ve called someone else, but you didn’t. I was hoping it would be me. A girl once told me if I needed anything, she would answer the door. I feel the same.”
Her heart pounded in her chest at his words. “She must be very wise. And cute. And boneable, with a great sense of humor.”
He snorted. “Did you just say boneable?”
“Yep. I’m very good at romance.”
“Well, you are all of those things. Especially the last one.”
Her cheeks might’ve actually been on fire at that point. She was boneable? For a sexy six-pack toting, good-mojoing, handy-as-hell, score-him-a-ten-on-the-hotness-scale man like Amos? If she could do a jig and make it look sexy right then, she would’ve, but unfortunately for her she was bad at dancing, and she wanted to keep her boneable status intact.
“Did you just squeak?” he asked, easing back enough to be able to look at her face.
“Maybe. I do it when I’m excited. Which I’m not. I’m totally calm and collected. And cool.”
He chuckled a deep sound that traveled right down from her ears to her nethers and back up until the deep reverberation landed someone in the general vicinity of her nipples, which had decided to get sensitive and perk up, and she’d gone for an off-the-shoulder, fitted sweater tonight that didn’t allow for a bra. Whoops.
“I like it better when you aren’t being cool.”
“In that case, you are in luck because I’m the least cool person ever. You can ask any of those girls over there.”
“Oh, I think you’d be surprised. They’re talking about you, and none of it’s bad.”
Leanna frowned up at him, and dragged her gaze from his trance-inducing gold eyes to the cluster of women who had migrated back in the general direction of the cowboys. They were gathered around each other sipping drinks and talking, but she couldn’t hear a single word over the music from this far away.
“You can hear them talking?”
“Good hearing, remember?”
Huh. Really good hearing. Like…the hearing of a dog.
“Are you a werewolf?” she joked.
His face went completely slack. “What?”
Okay, he did not find that funny at all. “Oh. I used to watch werewolf and vampire movies. I was just joking. You have supersonic dog hearing. Ha. L-O-L.”
Her hand was on his chest and his heart was beating fast against her palm. Amos parted his lips like he wanted to say something but changed his mind. He clamped his mouth shut and released her quickly. He strode over to a pair of pool sticks leaned up against the wall and handed her one. “I’ll rack, you break. I want to see what you got.”
But Leanna was a couple drinks in, and his reaction to her joke had been so out of left field, she asked something she would’ve never asked in a serious tone until now. “Wait, Amos, are you a werewolf?”
“No.” He racked the balls without looking up. “Werewolves are crazy.”
Chills rippled up her arms at the seriousness in his tone. Wait…what?
He lifted those gold eyes to her, and a wicked smile transformed his face. He winked. He was teasing. Probably. Right?
Half-story man was just kidding with her.
“Did you like the feathers?” he asked as he handed her a pool stick.
She shook her head, trying to keep up with his conversation when her brain was a little fuzzy from her earlier shots of tequila. “I meant to tell you, I have them all trimmed and ready to use tomorrow. I wrote you a thank you card with one of them.” The sound of her slamming the cue ball into the others was like a gunshot, and she grinned at him. “I even drew a cartoon wiener on there for you.”
“Ha!” She hadn’t hit any balls in, so he lined up on the cue ball and banked the green six in a side pocket like it was the easiest thing ever. “It wouldn’t be a proper thank you card without a dick on it.” He lined up and shot a combo into the corner.
“Okay, pool shark,” she muttered, leaning on her pool stick. “Maybe ease up and make me think I have a chance at winning. Wait, are you a wereshark?”
“No such thing.” But she hadn’t missed it. He hadn’t said that about werewolves—just that they were crazy. Her spidey senses were tingling. He didn’t know it, but when the night was through, she was going to delve back into her extensive collection of werewolf and vampire movies, because she was crazy—like a werewolf.
“My, what big gold eyes you have,” she teased as he missed an easy shot, obviously on purpose.
“Oh God. If I was going to be a were-anything, I would be something way cooler than a wolf.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, baiting. “Like what?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Your shot, pretty girl.”
She missed an easy corner pocket shot, and while he ran the rest of the table, she snacked on the fries which had cooled down enough to eat without lighting her tongue on fire. He re-racked the balls and came to join her.
“Where did you learn to play pool?” She asked. “And remember, no half-stories.”
“Seattle. I was adopted. I got lucky with my parents. They were very understanding of some stuff I had to deal with when I was a kid. My mom is an angel, a
nd my dad is a demon she tamed enough to want to be a good man. He was the pool shark, not me. He did his job, worked his nine-to-five, made my mom happy, and took good care of us. But most weeknights, he would eat dinner with us and then head out to a pool hall a few miles away from our house. He was king there. Played the tournaments, won money almost every night, drank like a fish, but he was one of those good drunks. Beer only, and he focused better on it. When I turned ten, he took me to his pool hall for my birthday. My mom went with us. I’d always asked for stories of how he won games when he got home and tucked me into bed, and those were my bedtime stories growing up. He lit up when he talked about pool, so I think I fell in love with it because of him.”
He was so animated when he talked about this stuff. Leanna clung to his every word, barely daring to breathe so she didn’t miss anything.
“When my mom walked in there, everyone knew her. Everyone. I didn’t understand. My mom is very shy, has dinner cooked at the same time every night, involved in the community, just an awesome lady. I’d been listening to my dad’s stories at night while my mom stood in the doorway watching us with this little smile on her face, and she’d been keeping a secret. She said hi to everyone, and her and my dad started playing a game of pool on the front table. Everyone was gathered around. I remember I barely blinked watching them. They only did trick shots, and my mom was every bit as good as my dad. Two sharks in the house and I didn’t even know. I think she’d stopped going to pool halls when they’d adopted me. She wanted to stay home with me. Be present, you know? My tenth birthday on, I was allowed to go with my dad. At first, I thought he was only doing it for me, dragging along an annoying kid with too many questions and the appetite of a silverback gorilla, just to spend that extra time. And I think that was a big part of it. But I also think he was bringing my mom back to the tables, telling her it was okay to do what she loved and be a mom too. It was a family thing. Eventually, the owner got too old to run the pool hall, and my dad made an offer on it. Put all his savings as the down payment, quit his nine-to-five, and he and my mom went balls-to-the-wall running that place.”
“What happened to the pool hall?”
He grinned. “It’s still run by the coolest damn couple of pool sharks in all of Seattle. It’s called Famous Danny’s, and when I turned twelve and started winning pool tournaments, I picked up a nickname.”
“Oh my God. Wait, I can guess! Famous Amos!”
He nodded once and popped a fry into his mouth. “They called me Famous Amos.”
She giggled and rested her cheek onto the palm of her hand. “I like when you share stories like that.”
“Yeah, well, that pool hall made me. But it also got me into trouble.”
“How?”
He inhaled so deeply, his nostrils flared. “Uuuh, there were a lot of good people there who became like family, but there were bad ones too. I surrounded myself with the wrong people.”
“Like a gang?”
“Not exactly. They called themselves a Murder. They played the team tournaments under the name The Crows. They hung out in my parents’ pool hall and it was fun, and they became like brothers to me, but they presented opportunities.”
“Bad opportunities?”
“Yeah.” He chewed on the corner of his lip, and then suddenly said, “I think one of them is Trev’s real dad. I met Trev’s mom Blair at the pool hall. Dated a few months, but she was a mess. Too big of a mess, and I backed away.”
Leanna swallowed hard. “Will you take Trev back there? To try and find his real dad?”
Amos leaned back into his chair and canted his head. Every trace of humor had faded from his face. “I think it would be doing a disservice to Trev to put him in that Murder. There isn’t anything good about it.”
“What will you do?”
Please say keep him. Please.
“He’s spending the night with a couple who has a boy his age. Trinity and Bricken Bane have a son. They’re friends. They’re better than me. There’s a mom and a dad and a boy who is like Trev. He’s…different. They can give the kid more than I can. And they live close, so I would still be able to see Trev, and he will be…”
“Be what?”
“Happy, I hope.”
Leanna’s heart stuttered at the wave of sadness that washed through his brightly colored eyes. She leaned forward and slid her hands around his. They were so much bigger than hers, but she squeezed them gently and hoped he felt comforted. “He would be happy with you too, just so you know. Who is going to understand Trev better than you?”
“What do you mean?”
“An adopted boy who needed a home, adopting a boy who needs a home.” She arched her eyebrows up. “Just saying.”
Amos canted his head and stared at her thoughtfully. “You’re annoying with your logic.”
Leanna shrugged and shoved a glob of cheesy fries into her maw. “It’s all downhill from here with me, Famous Amos.”
“Oh yeah?”
She grinned around the bite and nodded. With a gulp, she said, “Now I’m about to pull the movie-star vixen’s move and ask the big bad wereshark to teach me how to play pool. Be sure to stand right behind me and give me butterflies so I get addicted to you, okay?”
He chuckled and stood. “I think I like your downhill.”
And as he chalked up her pool stick, she had a moment.
I like your downhill.
That’s how it was supposed to be, right? The good and the bad, the uphill and down?
He was on the upswing in his life, she could tell, but Leanna had loved his story of his past more than any half-story he could ever give her.
She liked his downhill, too.
Chapter Eleven
“I’ll have your car parked in the driveway before you wake up for work tomorrow,” Amos promised. In the glow of her porch light, he looked more handsome than ever.
“I feel fine. You didn’t have to drive me home.” She hadn’t even finished her beer, and they’d spent a few hours at the bar talking and dancing.
“Better safe than sorry,” he murmured, leaning against her front door frame.
This was the part she’d dreaded—the goodnight, the goodbye, the see-ya-later.
Truth be told, she wasn’t ready for him to leave. Tonight had been the best night she could remember. It had started out so strange and almost hurtful, and Amos had come in and fixed it all.
Tonight he had played her body like a violin. Every touch had been music. Every stroke of his fingers against the low of her back, a harmony. Every time he’d leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, she’d gotten more and more lost in a concert she hadn’t known she’d needed to hear.
“Will you tuck me in?” she asked.
He ducked his chin to his chest, and there was that soft smile that had lingered on his lips every time he’d looked at her tonight. “Of course.”
“If you’re a vampire, this is me inviting you in,” she teased.
“Oh God,” he muttered as she cackled.
Tomorrow, they both had to go back to real life. To the work, to the hustle, to the drive, and to figuring out what to do about Trev, but tonight? They could just be, and she didn’t want it to end. Not yet.
She showed him her small living room, kitchen, a reading nook, her balcony with its single rocking chair. She showed him trinkets from her youth, and a picture of her parents and sister held onto the refrigerator by an owl magnet.
“What do you wear to bed?” he asked from where he sat on the edge of the shower as she brushed her teeth in the small ensuite bathroom.
Leanna rinsed her mouth and leaned back on the counter. “I wish I could say something super sexy, but lingerie is itchy and I like comfort. Plus, no one has been looking so I mostly just wear sweats and a tank top.”
“You like comfort.”
His gaze had been locked on her during the entire home tour, and any time she’d met his eyes, her heart had pounded harder in her chest. He looked so intense, almost hung
ry, and it dredged up sheer excitement from deep in her middle.
“Y-yes. I like comfort.”
Oh geez, that crooked smile that nearly locked her legs under her…
“You can have my shirt to wear to bed.” He stood smoothly, up, up, until the top of his head was almost to the ceiling, and then he gripped the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it smoothly over his head.
Abs.
He had lots of abs. And a large bandage across his chest that had four streaks of blood showing through.
Abs and blood and she didn’t know how to respond.
“What happened?” she whispered, brushing her fingertips along the bottom of the bandage.
“Nothing important.”
Four streaks of blood from one side of his chest to the other. Leanna placed her nails gently over them and dragged her hand from one side to the other. “What did this to you, Amos?”
Amos only shook his head slowly. His eyes seemed an even brighter gold than they had before.
He gripped her waist and kissed her lips, trapping all the questions in her throat. When he eased back, she made a needy noise and fell forward a step. He only put enough space between them to pull her sweater over her head.
He leaned his lips against her ear and murmured, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” It was the easiest answer in the world.
He nipped her sensitive earlobe and unsnapped the clasp of her bra, pulled it off her arms and tossed it on top of her discarded shirt.
Leanna ran her palms slowly down his stomach, and hooked her fingers onto the belt loop of his jeans. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked softly through a teasing smile.
“Fuck. No.”
She unfastened his belt and popped the button, undid his zipper slowly, and then pushed the fabric of his jeans down his powerful hips, unsheathing his thick, swollen cock. He was a perfect Adonis under her hands. She gripped his shaft and pushed down the length of him. The growl in his throat set fire to her insides.
“More,” he uttered, his eyes blazing gold as his hands found the weight of her breasts. He massaged her, and then slid his hands down to the front of her jeans, and inside. His fingers slipped right down her wet sex, and he gripped the back of her neck as he pushed two fingers inside of her. Arching her back, Leanna gasped and rolled her eyes closed at the ecstasy. His lips pressed against her throat and she could feel the gentle pressure of his teeth as he pushed his fingers into her again.
