Page 44 of Crazy Thing

As for Nicky and Inez—I don’t know whose mouth gapes wider as their men begin to propose.

I’m so choked up that I miss the actual words spoken. I’m too busy stifling back my sobs and wiping tears from my eyes.

There are hoots and whistles and big fat tears all around the yard as the happy couples celebrate their engagements. Then we all rush the deck, getting tangled up in hugs as the girls show off their engagement rings.

I can’t even remember where I left the lemonade pitcher. All I know is, I’ve got Inez gripped in a tight embrace when I glance over her shoulder and make eye contact with Darius. He’s glaring intently at me, that regular scowl on his face.

My stomach clenches again.Damn that handsome, grumpy, infuriating man.

I ease out of the hug. “How about another pitcher of bourbon lemonade to celebrate?!”

The crowd shouts their assent and I grin.

I duck into the cool shade of Ronan’s ultra spacious, ultra modern kitchen. Helping myself to the dishes and utensils I need, I get to work on the cocktail.

Before long, a cute hockey player steps into the room, coming to take a seat at the counter where I’m stirring the pitcher.

“That looks good.” The man smiles flirtatiously, his twinkly eyes scanning me up and down. “Can I get some?”

From the innuendo in his voice, I can tell that the lemonade is the last thing on his mind.

Still, I grab a plastic cup and fill it, sticking a lemonwedge on the rim. “Here you go.” I slide the drink across the counter to him.

He takes a sip. “Mmm. Sweet but sharp. It’s got bite.” His eyes rake over me again.

I check him out, too. Sitting there, all sexy stubble and sparkly eyes, his hair and shoulders still glistening from swimming in the pool. And I decide to flirt a little. Because, why not? With all that turmoil Darius has been making me feel, I could use a distraction.

I lean a hip against the lower cabinet door and grin. “Oh, you like it?”

“Mm-hmm.” Dropping his elbows to the counter, he leans closer. “And you know what? I like my women sweet and sharp, too. Just like my lemonade.”

I almost laugh out loud.Cheesy much?!

Right then, another cute hockey player is here, punching his teammate in the arm. “Get lost, Raines. I called dibs on her,” he grumbles.

Raines punches him back. “I saw her first, Parker.”

“Called dibs on me?” I ask, eyebrow hiked up threateningly. “Dibs for what?” These guys had better choose their next words wisely.

Parker reads my threatening expression and flinches. He nervously clears his throat. “For, uh, for a…a palm reading.” He thrusts a massive hand out to me, face up. “You’re a fortune teller, right? I saw you shuffling cards earlier.”

A fit of cackles breaks out of me. I know, I know—these guys are only trying to get laid. But the attention is fun nonetheless.

As my head is flying backward in laughter, my eyes catch on Darius’s. I have to do a double take. Now, the man is standing on the deck with Cecily all up in his face. But evenas she rambles away, he’s busy staring daggers at me through the glass sliding door.

My heart stutters a beat. I run a hand over the soft pouch of my fluttering stomach.

What the hell is his issue with menow? Is he angry that I’m here, hanging out with his family and friends? Or did I miss a phone call from him? Did he need me at the office today?

Well, whatever it is, it’s not my freaking problem.

I turn my attention back to the hockey players seated in front of me. I’m determined to show Darius that I’m having a good time, despite the bad vibes he’s sending my way.

Raines knocks Parker’s hand out of the air. “I can tell you your fortune, dipshit. You’d have a much easier time picking up the ladies if you’d moisturize those dry-ass hands of yours. No woman wants to feel those flaky reptile hands touching her in the dark. And you wonder why you can’t get rid of your V-card.”

Parker rolls his eyes, his cheeks going red. “How’s that case of the Sin Valley Itch treating you, by the way? Did your doctor finally find a prescription that works?”

Raines gives his teammate a shove, pushing him off of his stool. “Fuck off with your dumb lies. They won’t help you get the girl.” His pleading eyes come to me. “I don’t have an STD, by the way. Promise.”

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