Her cheeks hot, she sidestepped him and floated to the table, giving herself a pep talk as she lined up her shot. “Eight ball in the side.”
He stood right where she was aiming, filling her view with parts of him better left naked in the bedroom. The big cheater.
She hit the cue ball and landed the shot. When she stood upright, her head cleared. Her mind shifted into pool ace mode, thank the tequila gods.
“Nine ball in the far corner.” She sank the ball for the win and raised her arms in victory.
Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark” started up on the jukebox. Natalie’s victory smile flipped upside down. She turned to her audience over at the bar, her gaze sliding from Kate to Claire to Ronnie … and then to the beer pitcher full of money on the counter next to them.
No, they didn’t.
Kate gave Natalie a cheesy smile and two thumbs-up.
Oh, hell. They did.
“Next game is eight ball,” she told Coop. “Rack ‘em up. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To kick some Morgan ass.” She leaned her pool cue against the wall and headed for the bar.
* * *
“Uh oh,” Claire said. “Here she comes. I think we’ve been made. Everybody act normal.”
Everyone besides Claire stared at Natalie as she stormed the bar like a frothing tidal wave.
Claire remembered the pitcher of money one second too late.
“What in the hell is this?” Natalie held up the pitcher.
Utter silence was her answer. Crickets didn’t even chirp. Mac, Butch, and Grady looked everywhere but at Natalie, while Kate and Ronnie were frozen with slack-jawed expressions on their faces.
Claire rolled her eyes. “It’s money,” she answered, being purposely obtuse.
“Funny, Claire.” Natalie looked at each of them in turn, ending at the weakest link. “What’s the bet, Kate?”
“You. Sex. Coop. Tonight.”
Claire groaned. “Really, Kate? Did your brain just telegraph that via Morse code? That’s it. I’m kicking you out of …” Claire remembered the sheriff was sitting there with them at the last minute and didn’t know about their posse. “Out of the group.”
Kate flicked her arm. “You can’t kick me out. It takes a group vote.”
“Fine.” Claire looked at Ronnie. “What do you say we send Kate packing?”
Ronnie shrugged. “Sure.”
“Ronnie!” Kate gaped at her sister.
“I say Kate stays.” Natalie weighed in, scooping out the money and cramming it in her skirt pocket. “That makes the vote tied.”
“What group?” Grady asked, looking to Ronnie.
“Just family stuff,” Ronnie replied, patting his arm.
“What are you doing with our money?” Claire asked, laughing when her cousin stuck out her tongue at her.
“I’m taking it.”
“What?!” Ronnie stepped forward, reaching for the pitcher. “That’s a lot of cash.”
Natalie leaned over the bar and grabbed the soda water gun from the holster, aiming it all around. “Listen, you gaggle of smartasses. It’s my sabbatical, so I win the bet. And when I find out who rigged the damned jukebox in your favor, there’ll be hell to pay.”
She holstered the soda water gun and headed back to the pool tables.
“Wait!” Claire called after her.
“What?” Natalie stopped and turned around.
She smiled at her cousin’s flushed face. “Tell Coop I’m rooting for him.”
Natalie raised her hand and pretended to wind up her middle finger. “Root for this, turkey gumbo!”
* * *
Almost midnight …
Natalie really shouldn’t have had that shot of tequila when she returned from threatening her cousins. But she had, because … why did she do it?
Oh, yeah, she was mad because Claire had been right all along. Natalie was going to give in and have sex with Coop, and she’d probably like it. A lot. Too much.
But first, she was hot.
“Don’t drink mad,” she muttered to herself as she made her way to the restroom, pinballing through the crowd.
The bathroom was nice and muffled, cozy almost after the noise and commotion on the other side of the door.
“It smells good in here, too,” she told her reflection in the mirror. “Like vanilla cake.” She leaned forward and pulled her lower eyelids down. “Yep, pink.”
Wait, what color were they usually? She couldn’t remember, but pink seemed normal.
She bounced off the wall and stumbled into a stall, remembering to lock the door behind her.
“What am I doing?” she asked the stall door as she stood next to the toilet. She didn’t have to use the bathroom. “Must be a habit.”
Giggling, she returned to the sink.
Her purpose for coming in here resurfaced. “You’re going to splash water on your face, remember?”
Right. She needed to sober up so she could play the third game against Mr. Sexy Detective. He’d won the second game, landing shot after shot with a finesse that made her even warmer for his form, and now it was time to see who was the best at pool.
She splashed her face, getting dribbles of water on the neckline of Kate’s shirt. Oops.
Back in the mirror, she stared at the girl with the messy hair. She finger-combed it into less of a mess. This was nothing compared to Violet’s wild curls. A pang of sadness washed over her. She hadn’t talked to her best friend in too long. Maybe she should call her now and wish her a Happy New Year. It was almost that time.
Wait, what time was it anyway?
Natalie felt her pockets for her phone, but then remembered it was sitting in Butch’s office.
Oh, well. “Let’s go kick some cop ass,” she told her reflection.
The girl in the mirror gave her a thumbs-up, like Kate had earlier.
“Stupid gamblers,” she muttered as she pulled open the ladies’ room door.
A blast of shouts and hollering made her wince. What was with all of the …
Someone grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her outside through the patio door.
The cold washed over her, but the tequila’s heat kept her warm on the inside.
“Happy New Year, Natalie.” Coop’s voice penetrated the thick fog in her brain.
She stared up at him in the dark. Slivers of light leaked through the patio doors, highlighting his rugged face.
