Page 112 of Tangled Emotions

Greg smiled at me. “You’re a pal, Edie.”

“Ugh, I’m not doing this for you.” I sneered and took the dirty dishes up to the counter. When I got back to the table, the boys were back.

“How was it?”

“Peter and Doc killed us.”

Trying not to smile, I looked at Alex and Matt. “Well, you boys know he was in the Marines. So, he might know a thing or two about being sneaky on the field and taking shots.”

“Way to point that out now, Mom.” Matt rolled his eyes.

“You boys want to bowl? Shoot pool? Or play more games?” Frank clapped his hands.

“Can we play more games?”

Frank pulled out some bills and handed each boy a ten. “Go get your game on.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Matt yelled, running away.

“Thanks, Doc!” the other two yelled out, running with him.

“You shoot stick?” He pulled me to stand.

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“Let’s go.” He motioned to the pool tables.

“I’m not very good at pool, Frank.”

“That’s okay, baby.”

I watched him put the money in, and the balls came rolling down. “Want me to rack them? Then you can … what’s the word? Break?”

“That sounds good.” He walked around to where I stood and kissed me before bending over the table and breaking the balls.

He knocked a solid in, then missed the next shot. I lined up my striped ball and made it in, then I fudged the next shot. We continued to play, taking turns. Some shots were done with pinpoint accuracy, some were slop.

Once we finished the game, Frank looked around the arcade. “Boys aren’t back yet. Wanna go again?”

“Sure.”

He came over and pulled me close. “Do you want to try breaking this time?”

“Sure.” I leaned in, kissing him, and then reached for the chalk.

I watched him set the balls, put the frame away and, looking as innocent as possible, I sent the cue ball flying across the table. It cracked into the balls, knocking them around. One stripe and one solid dropped into pockets and I felt my lips twist as I eyed the table.

“Hm, since I knocked both in, I’m going to stick with stripes. Thirteen, corner pocket.” I pointed with my cue, lined up my shot and knocked it in.

I did this with my next three shots, then I missed one, letting Frank have a turn.

“You played me.” He strolled up to me. “Hustler.”

“Maybe.” I pushed my bottom lip out into a pout. Moving up his body, I whispered against his lips. “You’ll have to spank me later.”

His eyes closed, and he groaned. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

“Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”

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