Page 29 of The Cowgirl's Secret Love
Finn shrugged. “If you say so. It’s good to know you have a few flaws.”
Karen gasped. She glanced at his plate to discover he hadn’t taken any of the pasta. “You’re not even trying it?”
“Didn’t want to take any and leave less for you,” he said magnanimously.
“You don’t know what you’re missing. Here.” She scooped up a mouthful—a small one, mind you—then held out her fork. “Try it.”
Finn leaned forward obediently, one hand settling on her thigh to stabilize himself. His lips closed around the tines of the fork, but his gaze fixed on her face. He pulled back slowly, the palm of his hand scalding hot on her leg.
They stared at each other.
Karen somehow remembered how to breathe.
Then he dipped his chin. “Not bad. The seasoning is good.”
She was about to tell him…something, except he was still staring at her mouth, and she was about to self-combust.
“Okay, everybody, listen up. Here’s the rules for the game.”
Thank goodness for little sisters. Lisa stood on a milk crate so she was tall enough to be seen.
“The three slips of paper you have are the name of somebody here, a location, and an easily found household item. Between now and ten p.m., your goal is to give your chosen person that item, in that location. If you manage it, they’re dead. You take over their three papers and keep playing.”
Karen thought it through. “It’s like the game Clue, only with real people.”
Lisa snickered. “And we’re doing the killing, instead of the solving. Last person standing wins.”
There was a flurry as people checked their slips of paper, and a whole lot of laughing ensued.
“You sure you wrote downcommonhousehold items?” Mack, one of the local firefighters, looked skeptical.
Josiah nodded. “Common around this place. It’ll make sense when we start dropping like flies. Once you’re told you’re out, go ahead and have fun with your death scene.”
“Because discovering that Mr. Greene did it on the garden swing with the castrator isn’t hysterical enough?” Zach’s quip got more laughs from the gathering.
“That game is ongoing,” Lisa said. “For now, enjoy the food. There will be other activities to try later. If you want to know why, it’s because I’m in charge of the kids’ games at the Canada Day party, and you’re test driving them for me tonight.”
Which turned the evening into something resembling one massive birthday party setting with twenty and thirty-year-olds fully getting into Lisa’s brand of mischief.
Karen peeked at her papers as she wandered through the house, but she was more interested in enjoying the good food and the buzz of happiness filling her soul. Lisa was in all her glory, laughing like a kid one minute and the next, snuggling against Josiah. Her thirty-five year old partner looked at her as if she hung the moon.
Tamara and Caleb were there as well, baby Tyler held easily in Caleb’s muscular arm. Or more realistically, Caleb had control of his son when the kid wasn’t being passed through the ranks like a ball in a rugby scrimmage.
Even Finn took a turn. He had settled in Josiah’s massive easy chair when someone placed Tyler in his lap. For a moment Karen thought she would have to rescue him, but instead he shocked the hell out of her. Finn comfortably rotated the baby, holding him competently with one hand as he looked Tyler in the eye. He tapped his finger on Tyler’s nose, chuckling when the little tyke’s arms flailed outward, grasping for Finn’s hand.
Something inside her flared, and it wasn’t sexual this time, but still centered low in her gut. Avoidance seemed the easiest way to deal with the rush of emotions striking out of nowhere.
She turned and spotted Julia making her way over, mischief in her eyes. “Why do you look like a cat who found the cream?” Karen asked.
“I just saw the setup for the next game Lisa’s running. Look.” Julia leaned in conspiratorially and held forward the strangest rubber duck Karen had ever seen.
“What the heck?” She took it from Julia to examine it more closely. It was a rubber duck all right, but this one had a little cowboy hat and a holster and a mighty fine moustache. Laughter bubbled up and Karen glanced at her sister. “That’s cute.”
Julia grinned. “It also means that I got you. Karen, in the living room, with a rubber duck. Go ahead and hand over your targets before you die.”
Well, drat. Karen pulled out her clues and slapped them into Julia’s hand. “That was far too cheesy. And I should’ve known better than to take anything from you.”
“It is true, though. We are having duck races,” Julia said consolingly. Then she wiggled her fingers. “Have a nice death.”
