Page 14 of Whiskey Throttle
“I didn’t think you’d actually pursue this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m me.”
He doesn’t even blink.
“That’s exactly why I am.”
He takes a sip of his tea, watching me over the rim like he’s considering something dangerous. Then he sets it down with an utterly wicked expression.
“You know.” A pause and a smirk. “I heard you’re decent with a racket.”
I blink.
Offended.
“Decent?”
“Maybe that’s generous.”
He waves a dismissive hand in the air and looks around at the other clubgoers for the first time since we set eyes on each other.
“Careful,” I murmur, sliding my sunglasses back on and giving him a taste of his own medicine. “You’re starting to sound like a man who wants to lose in front of an audience.”
His dark blue eyes return to mine. Lazy and amused, followed by a grin that should be illegal at this club. I’m quickly seeing the appeal of Vanessa having her Sven. He’s quite a bit younger than we are. If he has an ounce of this college kid’s charisma and charm, I understand how she’s so ensnared.
“Careful,” he echoes, dragging out every syllable of the word. “You’re sounding like someone about to be challenged.”
My brows lift over the rim of my sunglasses.
“Are you daring me to play you?”
“One set. Just for fun, Babs.”
I let the silence drag. Just long enough to make him question whether I’ll bite. Then I gaze at my manicured hands, wondering if I should get them done now and leave him wondering or accept his challenge.
Live a little, Babs.
I stand and smooth over my skirt. Pick up my racket bag with the grace of someone who’s been here a thousand times before, then glance over my shoulder.
“You should know, I was club champion two years ago.”
He’s on his feet in a flash, snatching his glasses off the table to slide them on.
“That supposed to scare me?”
“No,” I say, stepping into the sun. “Just figured you should know what you’re walking into. I only lost the title because Elise plays tennis like it’s a full-contact sport. Very intense.”
He falls into step beside me. His hand brushes mine intentionally.
“You play like you have something to prove?”
I flash him a smile that never quite reaches my eyes behind my sunglasses.
“Not anymore, hot stuff. I’ve already proved it.”
He clutches his heart, stumbling back like he’s been hit with Cupid’s arrow. Yes, I can definitely see how Vanessa got herself into this situation and why she refuses to get out of it.
