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"Your elegance—truly captivating."
Oh, he's definitely—
"And such a splendid conversationalist."
My jaw drops, and before I can think better of it, my hand goes flying, aiming for his—
He snatches my wrist from midair, inches from his suit-clad chest. With a smirk, he tugs me close—too close. His minty breath basks my senses, forcing me to crane my head up to look at him.
He feigns a gasp. "My goodness, were you about to hit me, Miss Brooks?" His eyes bulge. "Why, that's not very ladylike of you at all. You'd think I brought a wild animal as my—"
A laugh bursts from my mouth, but I quickly stifle it, pressing my lips together tightly as if my life depends on their silence.
His lips twitch—
The rest comes spilling out, light and airy, like fizz bubbling over a glass rim. And his eyes. They're crystal-blue water, like waves lapping up a shore in delight, and God does my heart ache as they soften, as his hold on me loosens.
Fine. When I can't flee from the room, maybe I'm no match for his charm. There's no shame in that—what girl is?
"Come on," he whispers, tugging me along.
"Wait, isn't seating that way?" I point as we pass beneath an overhanging sign.
At the sound of my voice, he smiles wide, flashing me a row of his porcelain teeth. "Yes, but there's something we need to do first."
I shake my head. "I should've known."
He sparkles with mischief. "Yes, you really should have." Flicking his chin, he gestures to the flatscreen mounted high above the Wagering Counter, displaying the names and trainers of all twenty horses in the race.
Gambling. He took me here to gamble.
"Pick one."
"What? I don't know the first thing about horse racing."
"Come onnnnn." He nudges me. "I know who I'm picking."
"Oh, yeah? And who's that."
"Hayzeus, of course. He's got the best odds. Some even think he'll win the Triple Crown."
"Boringgggg, what about an underdog—or, I mean... under-horse?" Our eyes connect as his entire body deflates like I pricked him with a sewing needle. "Sorry, sorry. Untimely dad joke. Uhh..." I search through the horse names, neglecting the odds written right beside them.
"Stirrup Trouble, Horsen' Around..." I mutter to myself, my eyebrows lifting higher and higher with every name. "Mane Attraction, Luminous, Baby Got Back, Practical Choice—" I snicker, locking gazes once more, before I whip back to the television. "Uhhhhh... Canterbelle. Yep, Canterbelle is going to be our winner."
Hayden sighs. Finally, his eyes tell mine.
He makes for a waging booth, eyeing the—
I bump into his backside as he comes to a sudden stop.
"Wait a minute." He squints up at the television. "Canterbelle? He's got terrible odds."
I round to Hayden's front, so he can see my hand shooting to my hip. "So? I said I wanted an underdog."
"Yeah, but... Juliana, you picked the underdog of the underdogs. His odds are seventy-to-one. Don't you know what—"
"Of course, I know what that means." I resist an eye roll. "If Canterbelle comes in first place, I'll win my bet times seventy."
