She leaned over the table, her movements fluid and precise. She wasn’t just hitting the ball; she was calculating, seeing the angles, planning her next three moves. He found himself not watching the game, but watching her. The way she bit her lower lip in concentration. The stray wisp of dark hair that had escaped her ponytail and brushed against her cheek. The quiet confidence in her stance.
“You’re doing it again.”
Leaning over the table, cue stick resting on her fingers, she raised her gaze to meet his. “Doing what?”
“Turning everything into math.”
She lined up her next shot, sank it clean, then straightening, turned to face him. “Is that a problem?”
“No.” He smiled as she circled the table, analyzing her next shot. “It’s impressive as hell.”
By the third game, she was beating him. Not by much, but enough. She sank three stripes in a row before finally missing a tricky bank shot. She straightened up, a look of mock frustration on her face. “Your turn.”
He missed an easy shot, the cue ball scratching into a side pocket.
“Tough break.” She tried to sound empathetic, but the twinkle in her eye told him she was enjoying whooping him.
The jukebox played something slow. For a moment, Kade considered asking her to dance in the small space near the corner. But that felt too intimate, too real. Instead, he finished his beer. “One more game?”
“You sure you want another loss?”
They played another couple of rounds and then to his chagrin, the morning came early. “We should probably head back.”
Nodding, she placed her cue on the wall rack and accepted his proffered hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. To his surprise, after only a couple of days, it did indeed feel natural to him.
The drive home was quiet. When they pulled up to the dark house, Kade turned off the engine and twisted to face her. “We did good tonight. I was a little surprised more folks didn’t ask a bunch of probing questions, but I think we looked so natural, they didn’t see the need.”
“I sure hope so.”
He helped her out of the car, and mindful of the possibility his mother might be waiting for them, took hold of her hand and didn’t let go until they crossed the threshold of the master bedroom.
Tonight, getting ready for bed flowed more casually. There was still an awkward air to the room, but better than last night. Same as the night before, Kade was the first to change and climbinto bed. When Cassie climbed in beside him, even though it seemed an ocean away, he wished he could remember more of their one true night together. On the other hand, it was probably better he didn’t.
“Kade?”
“Yeah?”
“I had fun tonight. Real fun.”
“Me too.”
“I’m glad. Good night.”
“Night.” Rolling over to face the window, he closed his eyes and wondered how he was supposed to sleep?
Chapter Nine
Approaching the Sweet home, Clint felt a bit like a stray mutt about to stain the pristine home with his presence. He always felt that way around Alice Sweet and her family. He wished he could have done more to help them after that sleazebag of a foreman and his ranch hands swindled them out of almost everything they had.
Shaking his head, he thought back to the day Ray hired him. It had been rough finding work with his record. Ex-cons everywhere had a tough time getting a fresh start, but he’d been particularly worn down. When all Ray had to say was “everyone makes mistakes,” Clint had thought he’d stumbled onto the best man on the planet. In return, Clint had worked doubly hard to repay the foreman, only to slowly notice a few anomalies and then one day, everyone was gone, along with all the new equipment that had been purchased. It hadn’t taken much to connect the dots. He’d been hired because the thieving foreman thought an ex-con would fit right in with the rest of the gang. The irony of it all was that the same foreman was probably one of the few people on the planet who knew Clint was a hard-working honest man who would never have…. Shaking his head, he was not going there. Not now. Not today.
Pausing to use the boot scraper, he knocked lightly before entering the home. At the counter Alice Sweet, hunched over,wielded a massive knife as long as the counter space in front of her.
“I could come back.”
Alice glanced in his direction. “Tomorrow is Kade and Cassie’s seven-day anniversary.”
“Day?”
