She lifted the ball rack. “Have at it, Five-O.”
He looked up from placing the cue ball for the break shot. “Five-O?”
“Like the TV show, Hawaii Five-O.”
He smirked.
“What? You don’t like nicknames, Sexy Two-Shoes?” she joked, grinning at the wrinkled brow he sent her.
He bent over the table. “If you’re trying to distract me, name calling won’t work.” He took his shot, sending the one ball into the side pocket.
“What will?” she asked as he moved closer to her for his next shot.
He glanced down at the O-ring zipper. “Playing dirty.”
* * *
When Ronnie returned from a quick visit to Butch’s office, Claire and Katie were pouring drinks behind the bar. Mac had switched sides, holding down the bar stool where Grady had been sitting minutes ago while Butch occupied the seat next to him.
Ronnie did a double take at the change-up. What the hell? All she’d done was refresh her lip gloss, run a brush through her hair, shuck her work shirt for something more comfortable, and spritz her neck with perfume.
She stepped up to the wait station, leaning on the bar next to Mac. “Where’s Grady?” If he got called into work because of some emergency, or something to do with the damned diamond killer, she was going to order a huge gin and tonic to dunk her head in for the rest of the night.
“He’s over at the corner table talking to some guys who work for the county,” Butch said. “Nice shirt.”
Ronnie glanced down at the Tijuana Toads T-shirt. She’d been too lazy to walk to the Winnebago earlier and raided Claire’s drawer instead. “Thanks, it’s one of Claire’s.”
Mac looked over and grinned. “One of my favorites.”
“Ay yi yi,” Claire said and trilled her tongue at Mac. “Te amo, mi corazón.” She set a full glass of beer in front of Butch. “Actually,” she told Ronnie, “I just saw Grady drag his sister over to the Big Buck Hunter video game, and she didn’t look very happy about it.”
Ronnie glanced in the direction of the video game. Penny had her arms crossed as she listened to whatever her brother was saying. She shook her head while pinching her lips together.
What was going on over there? Family business, or something to do with a certain FBI agent Penny had been visiting with by the pool tables before Ronnie went in back to change?
“What’s your bet, Ronnie?” Claire asked, pulling her focus back to the bar.
“My bet for what?”
“Natalie and Coop.”
Ronnie’s gaze shifted to where their cousin was playing pool with the detective. At the moment, Natalie was watching while Coop took a shot. Ronnie saw him sink the ball in the side pocket and then stand upright, smiling in Natalie’s direction.
“Natalie will win in the end. She always does.” Although Coop appeared to be a hotshot, too.
AC/DC’s famous opening guitar riffs rang out across the bar. “You Shook Me All Night Long” beat to life loud and clear. Had someone cranked up the jukebox louder than usual?
Ronnie watched her cousin. Natalie scowled in the direction of the jukebox and poured herself a shot of tequila. She lifted the glass to her mouth, but then hesitated and set it down on the table.
Hmmm. Maybe Natalie had found her match in more ways than one.
“We’re not talking about the pool game,” Katie said above the music.
After another check on Grady and Penny, Ronnie turned back to her sisters. “What then?”
“Natalie’s sabbatical. We’re all betting on whether Coop will run her off the rails tonight and when and how. We’ve each thrown ten in the pot.” Katie placed a beer pitcher partly filled with money in front of Ronnie.
Ronnie scoffed. “You guys are betting ten bucks on whether our cousin will have sex or not? What is wrong with you guys?” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a wad of tip money. “I’ll see your measly ten and raise each of you another ten.” She stuffed twenty dollars in the pitcher. “My money is on Natalie instigating sex by twelve-thirty in Coop’s truck.”
“Are we playing Clue now?” Mac asked.
“Yeah.” Claire leaned on the bar across from him. “The perverse, small-town bar version.”
“What makes you so sure Natalie will take the lead?” Butch asked Ronnie.
She held up her hand, ticking off her fingers. “For one, she’s drinking tequila. Two, she’s wearing Katie’s quick-access zipper top. Three, somebody—and I’m assuming it’s Claire—has the jukebox playing some of Natalie’s favorite songs extra loud. And four, she likes Coop way more than this ‘just friends’ phony baloney she keeps telling everyone.”
Claire laughed and stuffed another ten in the pitcher. “I say twelve-oh-five, Natalie at the helm, and in the storage room.”
“Christ.” Butch grimaced. “Why does everybody like to screw around in my storage room? After catching Ronnie and Grady in there, I wince when I have to get supplies.”
“I can’t believe you two have no faith in Natalie,” Katie said. She added a ten to the pitcher. “I’m going to bet the Don’t Pass Bar in this Craps game and say Coop will try to bust down Natalie’s wall with a kiss or two, but she’ll resist him and wake up still wearing her underwear in the morning.” She looked toward the pool tables with a wrinkled brow. “Although if she keeps hitting that tequila bottle, she’ll have one hell of a headache.”
“Boring,” Claire sang.
Ronnie laughed and held out her hand for a fist bump. “Natalie has little willpower when it comes to hot guys.”
Katie harrumphed. “Resisting a man is not boring, you two-bit tramps. It’s sort of old-school romantic. Besides, Natalie is different now thanks to her sabbatical. She’s stronger and has a lot more self-control. When her sabbatical truly goes down in flames, there won’t be any liquor involved.”
“What do you know about resistance and self-control, you pregnant unmarried hypocrite?” Claire asked, laughing.
Butch laughed, too, until Katie tried to snap him with a bar towel. Then he hid behind his glass of beer and chuckled
