Page 30 of A Cowboy's Twinkling Lights Lasso
I don’t drag my eyes away from his. I won’t give him the satisfaction. The seconds or minutes pass by, and neither of us breaks first.
“Nice technique.” Theo claps enthusiastically, stepping between our silent battle.
My sister must’ve kissed her shot.
His uproarious laughter follows, and I use the opportunity to look anywhere else. “Are you trying to play pool or audition for a circus act?”
Dani shoots him a glare over her shoulder. “At least I’m not standing around waiting for someone to teach me how to hold a cue properly.”
Here we go again. Another round of angry flirting. They can pretend to hate each other or quite possibly do hate each other, but this back-and-forth banter is like sizzlin’ bacon on a skillet.
Theo pushes off a beam. “You know.” His voice is low and teasing as he lines up his shot. “Holding a cue stick is a lot like knowing how to handle”—he glances up at Dani, the corner of his mouth tilted into a grin—“other things.”
Dani rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you’ve had lots of practice in those lonely nights alone.”
“Sweetheart, I ain’t ever lonely.” He glances back to his shot. “It’s all about the grip, the precision, and knowing just how to make the right moves.” Theo slides the stick effortlessly between his fingers, his movements smooth and practiced.
“Please stop.” Dani’s voice is dry, but I agree with her.
“With the right technique”—he leans in slightly—“you can make magic happen.”
He strikes the cue ball. It connects to our striped ball with a satisfying thud and hurtles it into the center pocket.
Winning is a great distraction.
“Nice shot.” I high-five Theo when he struts by doing his confident he won walk.
“It’s about rhythm and knowing when to go all in.” He leans his hip on the pool table beside Dani. The cue stick rests casually in his hand. “I guess you could say I’m an expert in both.” He winks, letting the double entendre hang in the air between them. “Care for a demonstration?”
“I’d rather have my tongue stuck to a frozen pole.”
“I have a pole right here, sweetheart.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.” Dani pivots. “Thorn, you’re shot.”
Now’s my chance to stare without being caught staring. After all, who doesn’t watch the competition on their turn?
Thorn shrugs out of his flannel shirt.
Dani whistles. “Bring out the big guns.” She playfully points at me. “He’s gonna devour you two.”
I wish he’d devour me.
Shoot.
No.
That’s the Frosty Coconut Snowfall talking—which I could use another. Then maybe I wouldn’t notice how he chalks the tip of his cue stick and how the subtle motion ignites a flicker of heat deep within me.
Shoot.
No.
That darned Frosty again.
He lines up his shot. His physique is a striking blend of strength and grace. His broad shoulders accentuate his powerful back, tapering down to a defined waist that hints at countless hours spent riding and working the land. Muscles ripple beneath his shirt as he steadies his cue. The tautness in his arms showcase well-defined biceps and forearms.
There’s no denying it, he’s gorgeous.
