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I stare at the back of his head as he walks away.
“Another round?” Harry asks.
“No, thanks.”
When he tips the bottle back, I joke about how dark his nails and the creases of his knuckles are. “You’ve been rolling in mud again?”
Laughing he says, “If by mud, you mean million-dollar houses, then, yup. Even rich folks need a toilet to take a shit in.”
“Ugh! You’re disgusting! No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend!”
He smirks and raises his brow as he takes a swig of beer. “What’s your excuse?”
“I’m happier by myself. I don’t want to worry about someone else’s needs.”
“Except Kylie.”
I snicker. “She doesn’t need me anymore. She’s a grown woman.”
Harry’s eyes turn mischievous, and his smirk deepens. “Is that so? Then you wouldn’t mind me asking her out.”
Pointing my finger, I get close and poke his chest. “You so much as look in my kid’s direction…”
“He’s just messing with you,” his brother interjects as he racks the balls for another round.
“Yeah, she’s got to play with boys before she’ll be ready for a man.”
Of course, I know Henry’s right about Harry’s teasing, but this is my daughter he’s talking about, and I would do anything to prevent some experienced man, like Tre, from taking advantage of her.
Unease settles in my belly. “See you guys later.”
“C’mon, I’m just kidding!” Harry calls as I walk back to the bar and wait for Lisa. When she catches my eye, another Stella appears.
I lift it in thanks, tip my head back and take a long pull. The crisp liquid slides down my throat and I sigh in appreciation, a warm and fuzzy feeling settling over me. Glancing around, I flick my gaze between the two mounted televisions at each end of the bar.
“Hey, don’t let anyone sit there,” Lisa says, jutting her chin to the bottle of Sam Adams to my right.
“Okay.”
Both televisions are showing football highlights in preparation for the Super Bowl. I’m sure my dad will be down at the firehouse, camped out in front of the big screen all day with his buddies.
I’m lost in thought, thinking about my dad’s famous chili when I sense someone sliding in beside me. I take a sip of beer and set the bottle down just as my elbow is bumped.
“Sorry about that,” a man’s voice says smoothly, causing me to look over at him.Are you kidding me?A scoff emerges when I realize sitting beside me is the gorgeous guy who walked away when I refused to play against him.
“It’s fine,” I reply, noticing how good he smells. The sleeves of his dark shirt are now pushed up, exposing his thick forearms. My eyes travel to the thin, worn fabric bracelet around his left wrist. It reminds me of the ones Kylie used to make during her arts and crafts phase in third grade. A little smile tugs at my lips, wondering if his daughter made it for him.
“Nice bracelet. Did you win that playing pool?”
The man wearing a red ball cap looks down at it and then up at me. Incredible eyes framed by thick lashes connect with mine and hold me captive for several seconds before he chuckles. “Not this one.”
“So you made it yourself?” I tease.
“I’ve got a box of thread. I can make you one if you want.”
I chuckle. “I’ve got a collection of my own, thanks.”
We each take a sip and return our attention to the television, but I’m distracted by the scent of his cologne. It isn’t overpowering, but strong enough to make me want to get closer.
