Just a Little Bet (Where There's Smoke)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Discover more Amara titles… The Wedding Date Disaster
Tempting the Prince
Fake It Till You Make It
Nothing But Trouble
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Tawna Fenske. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Entangled Publishing, LLC
10940 S Parker Rd
Suite 327
Parker, CO 80134
rights@entangledpublishing.com
Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
Edited by Lydia Sharp, Heather Howland, and Liz Pelletier
Cover design by Elizabeth Turner Stokes
Cover photography by Kiselev Andrey Valerevich, CREATISTA, Photographee.eu, and 4 PM production/Shutterstock
ISBN 978-1-64937-064-8
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition October 2020
Dear Reader,
Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.
xoxo
Liz Pelletier, Publisher
For you, dude.
For reasons.
Chapter One
“Uh-oh.” Kayla Gladney sipped her beer and squinted across the dim expanse of Boyton Ballroom’s central bar. “Breakup at three o’clock.”
“What? Where?” Willa leaned back on her barstool, then yelped as she started to topple.
Kayla made a grab for her, but Willa’s hottie husband moved quicker. Grady caught his wife by the waist, grinning as he glanced across the room to watch their friend—and his teammate—Tony, deep in conversation with a pretty brunette.
“Nah.” He kissed Willa on the cheek. “Just looks like they’re talking to me.”
“Nope, that’s a breakup.” Kayla tried to recall the brunette’s name. Brandi? No, Becky. Or was that Tony’s last girlfriend? They all sort of blended together.
“Tony’s been pretty into her,” Grady insisted. “I think this one’s going to work.”
Kayla cocked her head, regarding Grady over the rim of her pint glass. “Care to make a wager?”
He frowned. “Against my teammate?”
“Not against him, exactly.” Kayla’s gaze drifted back to where Brandi/Becky was pulling Tony in for a tight hug. Two pats on the back, right between his broad shoulders. Yep, they were dunzo.
Kayla turned back to Grady. “Just giving you a chance to put your money where your mouth is,” she said. “If you really think your buddy’s got it in him to keep a girlfriend for more than a few weeks.”
“They just hugged,” Willa offered hopefully. “That’s a good sign, right?”
Not even close.
But far be it from Kayla to kill her friend’s hopeful, newlywed dreams. A tiny pinch of envy nipped the edge of Kayla’s heart, but she pushed it back and focused on the not-so-happy couple across the room. “Anything’s possible,” she said, even though it wasn’t. Not with Tony. She loved the crap out of him—admired him, too—but the man had zero sticking power in relationships.
Grady sipped his beer as Tony said something that made the brunette laugh. Tony could make anyone laugh, even in the middle of a breakup.
Which this definitely was.
As his best friend, Kayla knew it.
“I’ll take the bet,” Grady said. “Loser buys the winner a shot of Fireball?”
“Deal.” She didn’t even like cinnamon whisky, though it was a fitting tribute to the unofficial end of fire season for the smokejumpers clustered around the barroom. “Wills, you want in on this?”
Willa shrugged. “Sure. They look happy together. I think they’ll make it.”
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Kayla drained the last of her beer and signaled the bartender for water. “I appreciate the optimism, but odds aren’t good.” She knew better than most how Tony’s relationships crashed and burned. “Okay, they’re headed this way. Anyone else want in on the bet?”
A couple other smokejumpers nodded and gave murmurs of assent. So that was four—no, five shots of Fireball. Kayla didn’t even want one, but she had no doubt they’d be lined up in front of her in three, two, one…
“Hey, guys.” Tony slapped palms with Grady, doing some sort of complicated handshake thing.
Turning to Kayla, Tony grinned and pulled her in for a hug. “There’s the woman of the hour. Congrats again on the book deal.”
“Thanks.” She hugged him back with one arm as she tugged down the hem of her Bart Simpson tee where it rode up under his exuberant embrace. “Watch it,” she murmured in his ear. “You don’t want the girlfriend getting jealous.”
Behind her, Willa chuckled. “You’re ex-lovers with stupid-hot chemistry. Of course Becca’s jealous.”
Tony either didn’t hear or chose to ignore Willa’s remark. “She knows we’re best friends.” He squeezed her tighter, then let her go. “Also, Becca and I just broke up,” he added, expression only mildly sheepish.
Of course.
Kayla did her best to look surprised but knew she was fooling no one. Especially not Tony, who flashed her a self-deprecating smile and ruffled her hair. She gave him a shove and turned to watch Becca head for the door. Kayla caught the woman’s eye and offered a sympathetic wave, then made the universal gesture for lifting a glass. Might as well share the Fireball.
“Want a drink?” Kayla mouthed to Becca across the crowded bar. It was the least she could do.
Becca waved back, then shook her head. “Uber,” she mouthed. With one quick glance at Tony, the man’s newest ex smiled and walked out the door.
So that was that.
“Seriously, Kay—congratulations!” Willa lifted her drink to clink it against hers, and Kayla raised her fresh glass of water. “I’m so proud of you with this book contract.”
“Pretty damn cool,” Grady added. “You get to pick the forests?”
Kayla nodded, chest swelling with pride. “Anyplace there’s been a fire is fair game. They gave me complete creative freedom to photograph anything I feel tells the story of wildfire across the west.”
Tony grinned and slung an arm around her. “Damn good excuse for a road trip.”
Willa quirked an eyebrow at her. “You’re not still talking about trave
ling together, are you?”
Kayla shrugged and glanced at Tony. “It’s on the table. Tony knows old forest fire sites better than anyone, and it’d be nice to have the company.”
“I do love road trips.” He tipped his head back to chug his beer, missing the look Willa and Grady exchanged. A look that said these guys are nuts.
She’d heard it already, though Kayla didn’t share their concern. Maybe most people couldn’t handle road-tripping with an ex, but they weren’t like that. She and Tony were best buds. Who even remembered that hot minute they used to date?
“Oooh, it’s our song!” Willa smiled up at her husband. “Did you do this?”
He winked and slid an arm around her. “There’s an upside to knowing the guy running the sound system.”
As Willa and Grady shimmied toward the dance floor, Kayla turned back to Tony as he finished ordering a beer. That was odd, since he seldom drank more than one. Something in his posture seemed tense, so maybe the Becca breakup hadn’t gone well. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” He turned with a good-natured shrug. “Not like my relationships ever last long anyway, right?”
“Right.” Hell, Kayla herself had a history with him, though that was easy to forget sometimes. They’d been friends way longer than their short-lived fling had lasted, and now he was just her best pal, Tony—her concertgoing companion, jogging buddy, and occasional jar opener. “Let me guess.” Kayla took a sip of water. “The breakup was Becca’s idea, and you’ve agreed to stay friends?”
Tony shrugged again. “More or less. What can I say? I suck at relationships, but I make an excellent drinking buddy.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “I’ve rarely seen you have more than one drink.”
He shrugged and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “The best drinking buddies double as designated drivers.”
“Good point.” She studied him carefully. “You sure you’re okay? You seem a little…off.” More off than usual for a guy who burned through girlfriends faster than wildfire in a dry forest. “Something else on your mind?”
He glanced away, and was she imagining a slight tensing of his jaw? “Nah, I’m good.” When he turned back, he was smiling again. “Like I said, I’m not cut out for relationships. But it leaves more time to practice for karaoke night, right?”
Before she could respond, Tony grabbed his beer and ambled toward the stage and the cluster of musically inclined smokejumpers lounging next to it. As she watched him go, she couldn’t help wondering what went on in that head of his.
Wondering why they’d stayed close when they’d crashed and burned in all their other romances.
…
“We need to add that to our regular lineup.” Tony clapped Grady on the shoulder as they stepped off the stage following their tipsy a cappella rendition of The Eagles’ “Seven Bridges Road.” “Maybe with the rest of the guys and some instruments.”
Grady grinned and picked up the beers they’d left on a table beside the stage and handed one to Tony. “Did we sound as good as I think we did, or is it the beer talking?”
“Let’s go with us sounding good.” Tony downed half his IPA in a gulp. He rarely got his drink on like this, but the season’s end and Kayla’s big book deal had him fired up to celebrate.
Sure, that’s it.
“So you and Becca split.”
Grady’s words sliced through Tony’s good cheer, and he took his time lowering the pint glass. “Yep.” He cleared his throat. “Big surprise, right?”
“What was it this time?” Grady grinned, but there was a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. “You gave her a toothbrush as a birthday gift?”
“Funny.” Tony sipped his beer again. “That was five years and about a zillion girlfriends ago. Am I ever gonna live that down?”
“Nope.” Grady set his beer down on the high-top table. “Not ’til you stop sucking at this.”
Fair enough. He hadn’t said as much to Kayla, but yeah, these breakups were starting to wear on him. “Becca said it was clear I wasn’t ready to take things to the next level.”
Since when had relationships become video games? All right, she wasn’t wrong. Tony just wanted to have a good time, to enjoy himself with no strings attached. He’d thought that was what Becca wanted, too.
Maybe he hadn’t seen this split coming, but he wasn’t surprised. Not even that broken up about it, though the timing kinda sucked.
Of all the dates for this to happen…
“Can’t fault her observation,” Grady mused.
“Fuck off.”
He said it without venom as he polished off his beer and set the empty glass on the table. How had that happened?
Grady noticed and raised one eyebrow. “Kinda nice to see you tying one on for a change. I can’t think of a time I’ve ever seen you have more than one drink.”
“I didn’t drive,” he said.
“Hey, I’m not judging.” Grady held up his hands in mock surrender. “You’re always Mister Responsible. You deserve a break every now and then.”
“Guess so.” Somewhere out there, his dad was probably “taking a break,” too. A break that’d lasted twenty-five years.
He let his gaze drift back down the bar to Kayla, who threw her head back and laughed at something Willa said. Willa turned and flashed a look at Grady that promised amazing things if her husband took her home right that instant.
Lucky bastard.
Grady shoved his barely touched beer in Tony’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder again. “Finish that for me, would you? Gotta go.”
And then he was gone. Tony watched them walk out the door before swinging his gaze back to the bar.
Kayla sat chatting with the bartender, and Tony felt an odd twist in the center of his chest. Pride, that’s what it was. He was damn proud of her for landing this book deal. Who knew there was a demand for artsy photos of burned-up trees?
Kayla, that’s who.
As though hearing his thoughts, she swiveled to face him. A bemused look lit her eyes as she smiled. That’s when he noticed the tidy row of five amber-filled shot glasses lined up in front of her. What the hell?
He headed over, grateful she was still here. Maybe they could split an Uber. Living half a mile apart had its pluses.
So did staying best friends with someone he’d dated. He loved that they’d remained close when plenty of other exes thought he was a dick. It made it easy to cut out all the bullshit and just relax around her.
Hell, maybe he did want to talk about this split with Becca. Or breakups in general.
Or maybe, maybe, he’d tell her what was really bugging him tonight. Why today’s date sucked so much.
She was still talking with the bartender as he approached.
“I really don’t need all these,” she was saying. “It was just a joke. A silly bet.”
Tony slid onto the barstool beside her, none too graceful in his movements. His shoulder jarred hers, sending a strange jolt of electricity down his arm. “What’s a silly bet?”
Kayla gestured to the glasses. “I bet a bunch of the guys you and Becca had split. Sorry.”
He shrugged, not too concerned about it. “I’d bet against me, too.”
“I wasn’t betting against you, exactly—”
“Are you going to drink these?” He picked up one of the shots, which smelled vaguely like cinnamon.
A memory rippled through him—the cinnamon pine cones his mom tucked in baskets around the house at Christmas. His dad used to bitch about it, complaining the house smelled like a damn cinnamon bun, but five-year-old Tony had loved it.
He set the glass down quick, feeling his stomach pitch.
Kayla was studying him. “Wow, multiple beers and a shot? Since when do you get your drink on like this?”
“Since wh
en is everyone my mom?”
There was some irony. His mom would be the last person to give a shit what he did, but Kayla didn’t need to know that.
No one did.
Kayla nudged one of the glasses in front of him. “I suppose you earned it.”
“By getting dumped, or by adding another notch to my shitty-boyfriend belt?” Which was probably the same thing.
“You’re not a shitty boyfriend.” She cocked her head, considering him. “I mean, yeah, you’ve got issues. Not that I have any room to talk on the relationship front.” Something dark flittered over her face, but it was gone before he could comment. “Anyway,” she said. “You’re a dude with serious commitment issues. Can’t fault a girl for not wanting to sit around indefinitely twiddling her thumbs.”
“I don’t.” He didn’t blame a single woman who’d dumped his sorry ass. Hell, he’d dump himself if he could.
He picked up the shot glass and knocked it back. The liquid burned hot and viscous down his throat, and he swallowed to make the feeling go away.
When he set the glass down, Kayla was watching him. “You good?”
“Yeah. Thanks for that.” He looked away, fumbling for words to fill the silence so she wouldn’t read too much into it. “Did you know ‘whisky’ is spelled without an ‘e’ when it’s from someplace with no ‘e’ in it?” He glanced back to see her eyeing him oddly. “So Scotland, Japan—no ‘e’ in whisky.”
Kayla cocked her head. “America, Ireland—that’s whiskey with an ‘e.’”
“Bingo.” He nudged another shot glass with the tip of his finger. “But Fireball’s from Canada, so—”
“Whisky with no ‘e.’” She grinned and nodded at the glass he’d just touched. “You want the rest? I can drive you home.”
He looked at the shot glasses. Four more, each teeming with spicy liquid. He really shouldn’t have any more.
But the date on the calendar behind the bar had his heart wadding itself up in a tight ball. “How about a drinking game?” he heard himself say.
Kayla cocked an eyebrow. “A drinking game? Do you want to pretend we still have fake IDs, too?”
“Humor me. I need to earn those shots fair and square.”