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I cleared my throat and stepped back, working hard to push down the heat rising in my lower body.
“Three ball, side pocket,” she called, her voice clear over the vibrations of the music.
The ball sank into the pocket. She shot me a cocky grin over her shoulder. I nodded in her direction, grudgingly acknowledging the shot.
She circled the table, eyeing her possibilities, before coming back around and standing next to me.
“Better make this one count, Cupcake,” I said, leaning down close to her, my lips against her ear. “Or I’ll have to take you.”
Her breath hitched. I straightened back up, crossed one foot over the other and leaned casually against my cue stick. She fidgeted with the delicate silver necklace that lay against her neck, contemplating her next move.
“Five ball, bottom right pocket.” Delaney narrowed her eyes, bridged her left hand on the table. The crowd around the table was quiet now, all eyes on Delaney. She drew back and fired off her shot, the cue stick slamming into the balls. The five-ball ricocheted off the side wall, once, twice, before landing neatly in the bottom right pocket.
Delaney took a breath, shot me a confident smile.
“Only the eight-ball left,” LeSean reported from his seat next to Mars.
“Yeah, I can see that,” I said in a gruff voice, cutting my eyes at him before shoving a hand into my pocket.
Delaney crossed to the other side of the table. Her eyes scanned the remaining balls, taking in the layout before deciding on her move.
“Eight-ball, top right pocket.”
She chewed her bottom lip, leaned over, and took the shot without hesitation.
I held my breath as the balls scattered, rolling around on the table.
“Yes!” Delaney pumped the air as the eight-ball disappeared into the top right pocket.
“Delaney’s the winner,” Mars declared as the crowd clapped and congratulated her.
“Nice work,” I said through tight lips. I wasn’t really looking forward to baking cookies all day, with Mars supervising.
“Thanks,” she said, grinning. She stepped toward me, tilting forward on her tiptoes, a gleam in her eyes. Placing her hand on my hip, she pressed up against me and whispered in my ear, “I’d like you to start making good on that bet tonight.”
Eyebrows raised, I locked my gaze on hers, my gut coiling with tension. I couldn’t really say no, I reasoned, a bet was a bet.
I took her cue stick, returning both to the wall. I could feel her eyes on me as I crossed over to the bar, settled my tab with Macy.
Grabbing my jacket, I put my hand on the small of her back and led us both out ofThe Rowdywithout saying a word.
6
Delaney
Unlocking the door to my apartment above the bakery,I was relieved I’d tidied up before going out. I hadn’t planned on company, but my mama raised me on good ole’ fashioned Southern hospitality, which meant one should always be prepared. It also helped that the space was less than a thousand square feet, not much to manage.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I offered, turning to face Quinn, suddenly feeling awkward.What was I doing bringing him back here?I’d been back in town less than a month and now here I was, getting myself into trouble with my brother’s best friend, pretty much spoon feeding the town gossips.
Quinn’s flinty gaze swept over my body and a hot flush warmed my chest. He declined my offer of a drink with a shake of his head, stepping towards me in the still-dark room, closing the distance between us. Placing a strong hand firmly on my hip, he pulled me into him.
“Oh,” I said, gasping, surprised at the swift movement. I was only inches from him now, his clean, masculine scent pervading my senses. Heat radiated off his body, his broad chest squared to my petite frame. All doubts flew out of my mind; the only thing I could think about at the moment was Quinn.
He stepped even closer to me, grabbing me by the belt loops, pulling me into him so our lower bodies were touching. His lips brushed my ear, sending a tingle straight through me. In a low, gruff voice he asked, “Is this what you want, Delaney?”
After a brief moment of hesitation, I raised my chin to meet his gaze. “Yes.”
He ran his thumb gently down my face, tracing my cheekbone, my jawline, before tilting my head up towards his. He rubbed my lower lip with his thumb, and I parted my mouth slightly, tasting salt on his hands. I leaned into him as he lowered his face, dropping his lips onto mine. They were surprisingly soft, a sharp contrast to his rough hands. He nibbled at my bottom lip and I opened to him, letting his tongue roll over me, tasting and teasing. A low groan escaped his throat and his body tensed. He pulled me in even closer, erasing any space that existed between us.
