Love in Catalina Cove

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Love in Catalina Cove Page 38

by Brenda Jackson


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  His Until Midnight

  by Reese Ryan

  Tessa Noble stared at the configuration of high and low balls scattered on the billiard table.

  “I’m completely screwed,” she muttered, sizing up her next move. After a particularly bad break and distracted play, she was losing badly.

  But how on earth could she be expected to concentrate on billiards when her best friend, Ryan Bateman, was wearing a fitted performance T-shirt that highlighted every single pectoral muscle and his impressive biceps? He could have, at the very least, worn a shirt that fit, instead of one that was a size too small, as a way to purposely enhance his muscles. And the view when he bent over the table in a pair of broken-in jeans that hugged his firm ass like they were made for it...

  How in the hell was she expected to play her best?

  “You’re not screwed,” Ryan said in a deep, husky voice that was as soothing as a warm bath. Three parts sex-in-a-glass and one part confidence out the wazoo.

  Tessa’s cheeks heated, inexplicably. Like she was a middle schooler giggling over double entendres and sexual innuendo.

  “Maybe not, but you’d sure as hell like to be screwed by your best friend over there,” Gail Walker whispered in her ear before taking another sip of her beer.

  Tessa elbowed her friend in the ribs, and the woman giggled, nearly shooting beer out of her nose.

  Gail, always a little too direct, lacked a filter after a second drink.

  Tessa walked around the billiard table, pool cue in hand, assessing her options again while her opponent huffed restlessly. Finally, she shook her head and sighed. “You obviously see something I don’t, because I don’t see a single makeable shot.”

  Ryan sidled closer, his movements reminiscent of a powerful jungle cat stalking prey. His green eyes gleamed even in the dim light of the bar.

  “You’re underestimating yourself, Tess,” Ryan murmured. “Just shut out all the noise, all the doubts, and focus.”

  She studied the table again, tugging her lower lip between her teeth, before turning back to him. “Ryan, I clearly don’t have a shot.”

  “Go for the four ball.” He nodded toward the purple ball wedged between two of her opponent’s balls.

  Tessa sucked in a deep breath and gripped the pool cue with one hand. She pressed her other hand to the table, formed a bridge and positioned the stick between her thumb and forefinger, gliding it back and forth.

  But the shot just wasn’t there.

  “I can’t make this shot.” She turned to look at him. “Maybe you could, but I can’t.”

  “That’s because you’re too tight, and your stance is all wrong.” Ryan studied her for a moment, then placed his hands on either side of her waist and shifted her a few inches. “Now you’re lined up with the ball. That should give you a better sight line.”

  Tessa’s eyes drifted closed momentarily as she tried to focus on the four ball, rather than the lingering heat from Ryan’s hands. Or his nearness as he hovered over her.

  She opened them again and slid the cue back and forth between her fingers, deliberating the position and pace of her shot.

  “Wait.” Ryan leaned over beside her. He slipped an arm around her waist and gripped the stick a few inches above where she clenched it. He stared straight ahead at the ball, his face inches from hers. “Loosen your grip on the cue. This is a finesse shot, so don’t try to muscle it. Just take it easy and smack the cue ball right in the center, and you’ve got this. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Tessa nodded, staring at the center of the white ball. She released a long breath, pulled back the cue and hit the cue ball dead in the center, nice and easy.

  The cue ball connected with the four ball with a smack. The purple ball rolled toward the corner pocket and slowed, teetering on the edge. But it had just enough momentum to carry it over into the pocket.

  “Yes!” Tessa squealed, smacking Ryan’s raised palm to give him a high five. “You’re amazing. You actually talked me through it.”

  “You did all the work. I was just your cheering section.” He winked in that way that made her tummy flutter.

  “Well, thank you.” She smiled. “I appreciate it.”

  “What are best friends for?” He shrugged, picking up his beer and taking a sip from the bottle.

  “Dammit!” Roy banged his pool cue on the wooden floor, drawing their attention to him. He’d scratched on the eight ball.

  Tessa grinned. “I won.”

  “Because I scratched.” Roy’s tone made it clear that he felt winning by default was nothing to be proud of.

  “A win’s a win, Jensen.” She wriggled her fingers, her palm open. “Pay up.”

  “You won? Way to go, Tess. I told you that you had this game in the bag.” Ryan, suddenly beside her, wrapped a big, muscular arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a half hug.

  “Well, at least one of us believed in me.” Tessa counted the four wrinkled five-dollar bills Roy stuffed in her palm begrudgingly.

  “Always have, always will.” He beamed at her and took another swig of his beer.

  Tessa tried to ignore the warmth in her chest that filtered down her spine and fanned into areas she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  Because they were friends. And friends didn’t get all...whatever it was she was feeling...over one another. Not even when they looked and smelled good enough to eat.

  * * *

  Tessa Noble always smelled like citrus and sunshine. Reminded him of warm summer picnics at the lake. Ryan couldn’t peel an orange or slice a lemon without thinking of her and smiling.

  There was no reason for his arm to still be wrapped around her shoulder other than the sense of comfort he derived from being this close to her.

  “Take your hands off my sister, Bateman.” Tessa’s brother Tripp’s expression was stony as he entered the bar. As if he was about five minutes away from kicking Ryan’s ass.

  “Tessa just beat your man, Roy, here.” Ryan didn’t move. Nor did he acknowledge Tripp’s veiled threat.

  The three of them had been friends forever, though it was Tessa who was his best friend. According to their parents, their friendship was born the moment they first met. Their bond had only gotten stronger over the years. Still, he’d had to assure Tripp on more than one occasion that his relationship with Tess was purely platonic.

  Relationships weren’t his gift. He’d made peace with that, particularly since the dissolution of his engagement to Sabrina Calhoun little more than a year ago. Tripp had made it clear, in a joking-not-joking manner, that despite their longtime friendship, he’d punch his lights out if Ryan ever hurt his sister.

  He couldn’t blame the guy. Tess definitely deserved better.

  “Way to go, Tess.” A wide grin spread across Tripp’s face. He gave his sister a fist bump, followed by a simulated explosion.

  The Nobles’ signature celebratory handshake.

  “Thanks, Tripp.” Tessa casually stepped away from him.

  Ryan drank his beer, captivated by her delectable scent, which still lingered in the air around him.

  “You look particularly proud of yourself today, big brother.” Tessa raised an eyebrow, her arms folded.

  The move inadvertently framed and lifted Tessa’s rather impressive breasts. Another feature he tried hard, as her best friend, to not notice. But then again, he was a guy, with guy parts and a guy brain.

  Ryan quickly shifted his gaze to Tripp’s. “You still pumped about being a bachelor in
the Texas Cattleman’s Club charity auction?”

  Tripp grinned like a prize hog in the county fair, his light brown eyes—identical to his sister’s—twinkling merrily. “Alexis Slade says I’ll fetch a mint.”

  “Hmm...” Ryan grinned. “Tess, what do you think your brother here will command on the auction block?”

  “Oh, I’d say four maybe even five...dollars.” Tessa, Ryan, Gail and Roy laughed hysterically, much to Tripp’s chagrin.

  Tripp folded his arms over his chest. “I see you all have jokes tonight.”

  “You know we’re just kidding.” Ryan, who had called next, picked up a pool cue as Roy gathered the balls and racked them. “After all, I’m the one who suggested you to Alexis.”

  “And I may never forgive you for creating this monster.” Tessa scowled at Ryan playfully.

  “My bad, I wasn’t thinking.” He chuckled.

  “What I want to know is why on earth you didn’t volunteer yourself?” Gail asked. “You’re a moderately good-looking guy, if you like that sort of thing.” She laughed.

  She was teasing him, not flirting. Though with Gail it was often hard to tell.

  Ryan shrugged. “I’m not interested in parading across the stage for a bunch of desperate women to bid on, like I’m a side of beef.” He glanced apologetically at his friend Tripp. “No offense, man.”

  “None taken.” Tripp grinned proudly, poking a thumb into his chest. “This ‘side of beef’ is chomping at the bit to be taken for a spin by one of the lovely ladies.”

  Tessa elbowed Ryan in the gut, and an involuntary “oomph” sound escaped. “Watch it, Bateman. We aren’t desperate. We’re civic-minded women whose only interest is the betterment of our community.”

  There was silence for a beat before Tessa and Gail dissolved into laughter.

  Tessa was utterly adorable, giggling like a schoolgirl. The sound—rooted in his earliest memories of her—instantly conjured a smile that began deep down in his gut.

  He studied her briefly. Her curly, dark brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail and her smooth, golden-brown skin practically glowed. She was wearing her typical winter attire: a long-sleeved plaid shirt, jeans that hid her curvy frame rather than highlighting it and the newest addition to her ever-growing sneaker collection.

  “You’re a brave man.” Ryan shifted his attention to Tripp as he leaned down and lined his stick up with the cue ball. He drew it back and forth between his forefinger and thumb. “If these two are any indication—” he nodded toward Tess and Gail “—those women at the auction are gonna eat you alive.”

  “One can only hope.” Tripp wriggled his brows and held up his beer, one corner of his mouth curled in a smirk.

  Ryan shook his head, then struck the white cue ball hard. He relished the loud cracking sound that indicated a solid break. The cue ball smashed through the triangular formation of colorful balls, and they rolled or spun across the table. A high and a low ball dropped into the pockets.

  “Your choice.” Ryan nodded toward Tessa.

  “Low.” Hardly a surprise. Tessa always chose low balls whenever she had first choice. She walked around the table, her sneakers squeaking against the floor, as she sized up her first shot.

  “You know I’m only teasing you, Tripp. I think it’s pretty brave of you to put yourself out there like that. I’d be mortified by the thought of anyone bidding on me.” She leaned over the table, her sights on the blue two ball before glancing up at her brother momentarily. “In fact, I’m proud of you. The money you’ll help raise for the Pancreatic Cancer Research Foundation will do a world of good.”

  She made her shot and sank the ball before lining up for the next one.

  “Would you bid on a bachelor?” Ryan leaned against his stick, awaiting his turn.

  He realized that Tess was attending the bachelor auction, but the possibility that she’d be bidding on one of them hadn’t occurred to him until just now. And the prospect of his best friend going on a date with some guy whose company she’d paid for didn’t sit well with him.

  The protective instinct that had his hackles up was perfectly natural. He, Tripp and Tessa had had each others’ backs since they were kids. They weren’t just friends—they were family. Though Tess was less like a little sister and more like a really hot distant cousin, three times removed.

  “Of course I’m bidding on a bachelor.” She sank another ball, then paced around the table and shrugged. “That’s kind of the point of the entire evening.”

  “Doesn’t mean you have to. After all, not every woman attending will be bidding on a bachelor,” Ryan reminded her.

  “They will be if they aren’t married or engaged,” Gail said resolutely, folding her arms and cocking an eyebrow his way. “Why, Ryan Bateman, sounds to me like you’re jealous.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” His cheeks heated as he returned his gaze to the table. “I’m just looking out for my best friend. She shouldn’t be pressured to participate in something that makes her feel uncomfortable.”

  Tessa was sweet, smart, funny and a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with. But she wasn’t the kind of woman he envisioned with a paddle in her hand, bidding on men as if she were purchasing steers at auction.

  “Doesn’t sound like Tess to me. That’s all I’m saying.” He realized he sounded defensive.

  “Good. It’s about time I do something unexpected. I’m too predictable...too boring.” Tessa cursed under her breath when she missed her shot.

  “Also known as consistent and reliable,” Ryan interjected.

  Things were good the way they were. He liked that Tessa followed a routine he could count on. His best friend’s need for order balanced out his spontaneity.

  “I know, but lately I’ve been feeling... I don’t know...stifled. Like I need to take some risks in my personal life. Stop playing it so safe all the time.” She sighed in response to his wide-eyed, slack-jawed stare. “Relax, Rye. It’s not like I’m paying for a male escort.”

  “I believe they prefer the term gigolo,” Gail, always helpful, interjected then took another sip of her drink.

  Ryan narrowed his gaze at Gail, which only made the woman laugh hysterically. He shifted his attention back to Tessa, who’d just missed her shot.

  “Who will you be bidding on?”

  Tessa shrugged. “I don’t know. No one in particular in mind, just yet. The programs go out in a few days. Maybe I’ll decide then. Or... I don’t know...maybe I’ll wait and see who tickles my fancy when I get there.”

  “Who tickles your fancy?” Ryan repeated the words incredulously. His grip on the pool cue tightened.

  He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  Copyright © 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.

  ISBN-13: 9781488096419

  Love in Catalina Cove

  Copyright © 2018 by Brenda Streater Jackson

  Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement
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