Chapter 11
W
hile Aidan kind of hated asking Clois to do him the favor, she was definitely getting into the role. Hey, I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Okay? She hadn’t even asked why, which was a good thing, because he didn’t have a great answer. She’d just thrown herself at his chest and kissed him. She tasted like candy corn and smelled like roses, and combined, that was just too sweet for his tastes.
But at least she was enthusiastic, and she knew it was just a game.
God, he hoped she believed that.
Jake brought beers to the table where Tuesday sat. She looked…
He didn’t know how she looked.
She looked like herself. She wasn’t lighting up the bar, not the way Clois did next to him, nor the way Adele Darling did while pulling drinks. Tuesday wore a simple red dress that showed off the rack he hadn’t known she had. She wore red lipstick that didn’t really seem to suit her coloring. Her black heels seemed too high for her, and she wobbled a bit while she walked.
She was normal.
Regular.
Kind of plain.
And he couldn’t tear his eyes off her. There was just something about the woman that was driving him crazy, and Aidan hated that he couldn’t name exactly what it was. She wasn’t gorgeous, not even a little.
But she was completely mesmerizing.
It seemed rude as hell of her.
Aidan had been letting Clois win, because she was pretty adorable when she thought she was good at pool (she wasn’t), but he had to nip that in the bud. Winner played the next person, and that would be either Jake or Tuesday. On his next turn, he ran the table, clearing his balls and sinking the eight right where he called it.
He whooped as both Jake and Tuesday stared. Clois laughed and kissed him again, this time with tongue. She was a sexy woman. He knew that.
He wished he cared, even a little bit.
“Who’s next for an ass-whuppin’?” Aidan smiled as wide as he could pull his face.
Jake looked at Tuesday. “Want to go?”
She shook her head. “Go ahead. I’ll play winner.”
Jake grinned. “Then you’ll be playing me, darlin’. My brother ain’t got nothing on my pool-playing prowess.”
Like hell. Jake was usually better than Aidan, but not tonight.
While they played, Clois sat with Tuesday. That made him nervous. And helpfully, the nerves made his shots better. Within fifteen minutes, he’d wiped the floor with Jake, who’d only sunk one ball.
The women approached.
“You suck.” His brother scowled. “You can’t let me impress a girl?”
“Depends on who you wanted to impress.” Aidan held out his arm, and Clois pressed herself against his side, smooching him loudly on the cheek. He could almost feel the hot pink of her freshly reapplied lipstick burning into his skin.
“This beautiful lady.” Jake held out his arm in the same way. Tuesday leaned awkwardly toward him and then away, fiddling with the bow of her dress at her side.
Huh.
That was something. Did they have any chemistry at all?
He shook his arm as Clois tried to shimmy closer. “So. Tuesday. You’re playing winner, right?”
She inclined her head. “Jake, do you mind?”
“Heck, no. I might buy us both another beer, though. My pride is wounded and I’m hoping more hops will help.”
“Buy me one?” asked Clois, abandoning her role immediately.
“You bet,” said Jake. “Kill him, Tuesday.”
She took her time picking a cue stick, rolling it on the top of the table, checking each one for balance. Satisfied with a short one, she chalked it carefully. She hadn’t really met his eyes yet.
That bothered him.
“So. You’re a shark?”
She blew on the tip and rechalked as if her life depended on it. “Nah. I won two games in a row in college. That’s about the best I ever was.”
He’d go easy on her. He might even let her win. That would be the polite thing to do, after all. Tuesday and Jake were on the date. They should get to play pool together.
But he hated the idea of them playing together. “Rack or break?”
“Break,” she said without hesitation.
Chapter 12
O
kay, so she’d lied a little bit. Not to Jake—when she’d told him she was good at pool, she’d meant it. She might have downplayed her skill to Aidan, though.
She’d won two games in a row back in college, yes, and she’d done it a thousand times. The local watering hole had been next door to her apartment, and the bar had been owned by her landlord. He’d gotten a kick out of her taking so much money off men trying to prove themselves that he’d lowered her rent on the condition she come in and play every Saturday night. He made good money the more men lost to her and moved on to drown their sorrows.
She could be polite and go easy on Aidan. Not humiliate the poor guy in front of his date.
She glanced at Jake and Clois as she set up to break. Clois was eyeing them back, her eyes greedy on Aidan.
Or Tuesday could let him have it.
She pulled back her arm and let her stick sail solidly into the one ball. It was a perfect break, sinking two solids.
“Nice.” His voice was grudging.
She lifted one shoulder. “Luck.”
He eyed her then. One eyebrow went up as his gaze went firmly down her body to her shoes and back up again. Tuesday blushed to her roots. “Hmm. I don’t know if I’m buying what you’re selling.”
“Stick around.” Tuesday sunk another solid, the five ball. “I might be persuaded to give you a discount.” She moved to set herself up at the cue ball, expecting him to move out of her way.
He didn’t. He held his ground.
He wasn’t technically blocking either her or her shot.
But he was less than twelve inches away from her.
Too close.
“I’m coming for you, don’t worry.” His voice was a rumble next to her, pitched so that only she could hear him.
A shiver shot down her spine, and she tried to prevent her shoulders from shaking with it. She pressed her lips firmly together and leaned over, sticking her rear end out perhaps just a couple of inches farther than she actually needed to. That used to help in college—men got flustered the more she bent over. She sneaked a look up at his face.
It wasn’t working on him.
He still had that one eyebrow raised, as if just waiting for her to miss her shot.
She scratched. “Damn it.”
He laughed, and a bubble of unexpected happiness wound its way up her throat. Tuesday wanted to hear him laugh like that some more—that laugh was sexy as hell.
Tuesday might be in trouble. And not in the pool game.
“Step back, little lady.”
She squeaked with fake outrage. She moved so that she was across the table from him. Just as he lined up his shot, she leaned forward, putting her cleavage on full display.
“What are you doing?”
“Sorry.” She wasn’t sorry. “Just checking out how you line up your balls.”
His face got red, and she wanted so badly to laugh. She was being a little rude to Jake, she knew, but when she looked over at him, he was talking intently to Clois. Neither of the two were paying them any attention.
When Aidan glanced at her, she cocked her hip.
He sunk a ball with a clacking smack. “There!”
“That was my ball.”
“Shit.”
A camera swung her direction.
Oh, yeah. Tuesday wasn’t here to play pool with Aidan. She was on a date with Jake. This was, basically, her only job right now, and she was screwing it up. She sunk two more balls in a row before missing the next one.
He hit three of his into the pockets. He’d looked at Clois and Jake, too, and he was more solemn now, too.
It was less fun now.
But it was
just as intense. She was careful not to bend too low or laugh right up at Aidan, but when she moved around the table and passed in front of him , she could feel his heat behind her. He didn’t get out of her way. She didn’t want him to. At one point, the back of her dress brushed the front of his pants, and she desperately wanted to lean backward into him.
To feel him grow hard against her.
To hear him make a frustrated noise into her hair.
To peel herself away and throw him an impertinent smile before winning the game.
Instead, she just sunk the eight ball with a satisfying thunk.
Aidan’s eyes narrowed. “You were probably born a shark.”
“Fin and all.”
“You swam before you walked.”
“I did.”
He reached to shake her hand. He was a good sport. “Good game.”
She took his hand and regretted it, immediately.
His grip was warm and strong, his palms thickly callused. But he didn’t let go when he should have. He held her hand two seconds too long, and they were two seconds she’d never recover from. Tuesday lost her breath, and a split second later, she lost her gaze in his dark blue eyes. He said something to her, something so erotic she almost lost her balance completely.
She couldn’t actually hear what he’d said, though, over the pounding of her heart. “Sorry, what?”
“I just said I was going to get a beer. Do you want one?”
“No. No, thanks. I’m fine.” She pulled her hand back and wiped both her suddenly-sweating palms on her dress. “I’m fine.”
He slanted another look at her, this one completely cryptic, then strode through the crowd and away.
“Finally!” Jake stood at her side. “My turn. I predict you’ll win, but then again, winner buys the next round, so I’m okay with that.”
“Great.” Tuesday smiled the best she could. She’d play him, yes, but there’d be no next round.
She was already drunk on the one beer she’d had. She was drunk on something else, too, something she didn’t dare name, even to herself.
Jake turned out to be a good pool player. Then again, she didn’t try to distract him the same way. He was solidly reliable when it came to bank shots, and he was better than she was at cross table shots.
While he lined up his next shot, Tuesday glanced at the table, but Aidan and Clois weren’t there.
God, had they left?
Why on earth would she be bothered by that? She was being ridiculous.
That didn’t stop her gaze from searching the room, though. Had they left together?
No, there they were. Aidan held Clois tight on the dance floor. Clois’s arms were wrapped around his neck, and her cheek rested on his shoulder. Her expression was blissful.
“Your shot.” Jake followed her gaze. “That’s a weird match.”
“Yeah?” Tuesday tried to keep her voice neutral. “Why do you say that?”
“She’s asked him out a couple of times, and he’s always said that she wasn’t his type.”
What is his type? She wouldn’t ask though she longed to. “Well, they look happy enough now.”
“Sure do. Clois is a hoot. They’re bound to have a wild time together. Good for Aidan. He’s been pretty alone for a while now.”
Tuesday’s jaw ached from clenching it. She forced her eyes back to the pool table. If she lined up the six and ten and sank both, she’d have a clear shot at the eight ball, and winning. Then she could go back to the Cat’s Claw and take three aspirin for the headache that was starting right behind her eyes.
Smack. Both balls sunk.
“Nice!”
“Thanks.” She pointed with her cue. “Corner, banked.”
“You’ve got this.”
Jake was so sweet. She looked up to smile at him before she took her shot. Twenty feet behind him, her gaze locked with Aidan’s, instead.
He looked at her—into her. His expression was unreadable, but she could feel the heat between them, even at that distance.
Clois nuzzled her head into his shoulder.
But Aidan looked at Tuesday like she was the one in his arms.
Her core heated. He was making her wet. Just with that look.
And that was upsetting as hell.
Jake turned his head, probably to see what she was looking at.
Tuesday dropped her head and made the shot. Her sweaty fingers slipped at the last moment, and the cue ball shot up into the air.
It flew over the table at a high rate of speed, as if she’d thrown it.
Then it beaned Jake in the temple.
With a thud, he went down.
Chapter 13
A
idan’s first reaction was to laugh. No matter what, it was funny to see his brother clocked in the head. It couldn’t not be funny.
But Jake fell to the ground, all the way unconscious.
Holy shit. He pulled away from Clois in alarm and dialed 911 from his cell as he raced to his brother.
Station One was less than four blocks away, and the crew were on scene almost instantly. By then Jake was awake. Barely.
“Hey.” Aidan handed his brother a glass of water.
“This doeshn’t taste like beer.”
“Oh, my God, I’ve killed him.” Tuesday kneeled next to both of them. “He’s slurring. He’s going to die. It’s all my fault. It’s always my fault.”
Aidan’s throat was tight. “He’s been hit harder than that before by falling beams and my fast pitch baseball.” But Aiden didn’t like the slurring, either. It freaked him the fuck out.
The fire captain Tox Ellis said, “Jake should be evaluated at the hospital.”
Aidan nodded.
“But I’m on a date.” Jake pointed at Tuesday. “With her. Don’t cry, Tuesday.”
“Did he just call her Tuesday?” Tox made a note on his clipboard.
Aidan stood. “That’s her name.”
“Oh.” Tox scratched out what he’d written.
Aidan touched the metal of the stretcher. “Can I come in the ambulance?”
“Me, too?” Tuesday leaped to standing.
“Nope. You can follow us, though. You two okay to drive?”
“I don’t have a car here,” said Tuesday. It wasn’t what she’d said last week, that she didn’t drive at all.
“I’m fine to drive—I’ll take you.” Damn it, Aidan didn’t want her in his truck.
And God, he so wanted her in his truck.
The drive was short and almost completely quiet. Tuesday kept her hands interlaced and tucked underneath her chin, as if she were praying. She gazed out the side window, and when he asked if she was okay, she didn’t answer.
It was as if she couldn’t hear him at all.
“Here we go,” he started as he turned off the vehicle, but she was already out of the truck and running for the doors of the ER.
Seemed like he’d misread the attraction between her and his brother.
That made him a gigantic tool. Had he really been flirting with his brother’s date?
Aidan stared out into the dark parking lot. That was a new low, for sure. He scrubbed his face with his hands, then he followed Tuesday inside.
The Darling Bay hospital was small but professionally staffed. Aidan had spent more than his fair share of time in this emergency department. He’d crashed a motorcycle at nineteen and broken his left pinky and his collarbone. He’d fallen off a roof at twenty-one, breaking his leg. When he’d gotten his first Irwin 15-inch saw at twenty-five, he’d cut his thumb down to the bone. His older brother Liam tended to stay safe (not much danger in pencil-pushing) but Jake had had about the same number of emergency-room runs over the last fifteen years.
Julie, one of the ER doctors, was the one with Jake in room five. “Hey, Aidan.”
“How’s my little brother?”
Jake was sitting up on the paper-covered bed, pressing an ice bag to his temple. “I’ll never play piano again, they say.”
>
Next to him, Tuesday jumped. “What?”
Jake laughed. “I’ve never played. That joke never gets old.”
“Trust me.” Aidan shook his head. “It does.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Tuesday. The words came out of her mouth quickly, as if she was used to saying them. Sure enough, she said it again. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. So very sorry.”
Jake waved a hand in front of his face. “Hey, Julie, will I be permanently disfigured?”
“From this?” Julie waited a beat. “No, not from this, anyway.”
Aidan stepped closer and lifted the ice bag. “That’s a softball-sized goose egg you got there. Is he concussed?”
“No sign of it,” said Julie. “He’s not slurring anymore, his vision is fine, and he’s not nauseated. I want one of you—” She arched a brow at both Tuesday and Aiden “—to stay with him tonight. Make sure he’s rousable and that no other symptoms pop up. Bring him back in if he gets disoriented or starts to throw up. But he’s going to be fine.” A siren sounded, tinny in the distance. “I’ll be back when I can. Jake, I want you to stay for at least another hour, just for observation because of that loss of consciousness. Don’t go anywhere.” She ducked through the curtain.
Tuesday looked miserable. Her face was crumpled, as if she wanted to cry. “Jake, I’m so sorry.”
“Come on,” said Jake cheerfully. “I’ve never been hit by a pool ball before. This is a new one for my medical resume.”
“It’s all my fault. I can’t believe that—I wasn’t—I wasn’t paying attention. I’m a better player than that.”
“That’s obvious.” Jake shook out the ice bag and replaced it on his head. “You’re a great player.”
No, this was Aidan’s fault. He knew that.
Tuesday hadn’t been paying attention because Aidan and she had been eye-fucking across a crowded room.
What kind of a brother did that make him, anyway?
A shitty one. “Hey. I can stay on the boat tonight with you.” Was it even shittier of him that he wanted to beat Tuesday to the offer?
Probably.
Tuesday lifted her head. “Wait, I can do that.”
Build it Strong (The Ballard Brothers of Darling Bay Book 2) Page 6
