Page 61 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
The jukebox was playing a twenty-year-old hit, and a group of elderly men were seated around a fiercely competitive game of dominoes at a corner table. There were a few people at the pool table, including Liam and his brother.
“Ah, here’s the Queen of the Pool Table!” Luke declared as Cassie walked in. “Fancy trying your luck against someone who can actually play?”
Paul laughed in lazy amusement. “Want to put your money where your mouth is, big shot?” he challenged.
“You’re on. Make it a bullseye?”
“Oh, thank you,” Cassie murmured on a note of dry humour. “Pressure or what?”
“What’s a bullseye?” Olivia enquired, arching one finely drawn eyebrow.
“Fifty quid,” Paul explained.
“Oh.” She smiled at Cassie. “You can really play pool?”
Cassie laughed. “Well, I hope so, or Paul’s about to lose fifty quid.”
“Best of three?” Luke suggested.
Paul grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “You have a lot of faith in me.”
“I’ve seen you play, and I’ve seen him play. He’s good, but he can be overconfident. You can take him.”
“We’ll see.” She moved over to the rack to choose a cue.
Liam winked at her. “Go on, Cassie. Give him a good thrashing.”
She returned an amused glance as she turned back to the table. “But he’s your brother.”
“That’s why I want to see him beat. He took the piss out of me for a week when you beat me. Now I want revenge.”
Oh, that smile . . . But it wouldn’t be wise to read anything into it. Though she might occasionally catch a glint of something in those dark eyes, he hadn’t shown any sign of wanting to be more than friends.
“I’ll do my best,” she responded coolly.
Her best wasn’t good enough for the first game. Luke broke, then potted three. She sank two, but then an awkward angle on the next ball left her without a clear shot. Luke potted another three with ease, but the fourth shivered on the edge of the pocket, to moans from his supporters and laughter from hers.
But she couldn’t capitalise on the opening. She potted two more, but the white ball wasn’t running for her and stopped obstinately short of where she needed it to be. Luke grinned as he returned to the table, dropped his seventh ball and moved smoothly onto the black.
“That’s how you do it,” he teased, grinning.
“Two out of three, remember?” Paul had brought her drink over and she took a sip. Yes, she could see Paul’s point — Luke could be overconfident.
They had gathered quite an audience, some rooting for her, others for Luke. Side bets were being made — not just on who would win, but whether either of them could run out from the break, whether there’d be a foul or a snooker.
Cassie’s luck changed for the second game. She took the break and sank five balls on her first run, then when Luke had sunk three, she returned to the table and cleared the rest. As the black rolled neatly into the pocket a cheer went up.
“Well done!” Luke gave her a high five, and glanced over at Paul. “Double or nothing?” he suggested.
Paul’s grin widened. “You’re on. Hope you’re good for the cash.”
“You’re the one who needs to worry about that.”
The good-natured banter continued as Cassie chalked her cue. She was trying not to glance across the table at Liam. She needed to focus on the game, not let herself be distracted by that beguiling smile.
Luke took the break and sank two balls, but as he lined up for the third Cassie could see the overconfidence. He had chosen a difficult shot over an easy one. If he sunk it and the white ball ran where he wanted it, he would have her snookered.
