“It’s silent until he’s involved.”
Tara squinted at her. “Why’d you marry him?”
Because he was safe. Calm and rational, competent and levelheaded, in a field with low mortality rates, at an age when decreasing testosterone levels would make him less likely to be reckless and wild. Because he could talk to her on an academic level. He understood her love of physics in a way her momma never had, so he’d accepted her as normal in a way Momma never had either. “He said all the right things about my potato gun.”
“Is that a euphemism, or do you actually have a potato gun?”
“Do armadillos have armor? Of course I’ve got a potato gun.”
The announcer interrupted them to givethe final standings for the night.
And, unfortunately, Kaci and Tara were dead last.
“Better luck next time, Dr. Boudreaux,” Captain Kiss-and-Run called.
The guy she’d realized was Pony—whom she owed a new keg—didn’t smile. The younger one did, but it held an offer Kaci would never cash.
“Just didn’t want all y’all’s delicate male egos to take a hit,” Kaci called back.
“You ever lose gracefully?”
“Sugar, I don’t lose.”
“Kaci, we kinda lost tonight,” Tara murmured.
“Hush on up. This here’s called messing with their minds.”
Lance stood, all six-foot-something tall, and sauntered to their table in what looked like two steps.
Primitive interest stirred low in her belly.
Chemical pheromones. Instinctive biological needs designed to ensure continuation of the species. Thank the heavens for evolved brains that were above all that.
Nothing to do with her firsthand carnal knowledge of what he could do with his tongue. Or any curiosity over whether he’d be willing to give her another demonstration.
“You know what’s irritating?” he said.
“You talking?” she guessed.
“I was going to sayyoutalking.”
She pulled herself out of her seat and stared him down. Didn’t matter that he had well over half a foot on her and that there was a little voice in her head reminding her she’d been wrong more than she’d been right when it came to this man. She was the daughter of a beauty queen, and beauty queens didn’t let anyone see them sweat.
“That’s not very gentlemanly of you,” she said.
“Your double standards are also irritating.”
Holy Moses on a stick, the man was staring at her mouth.
Maybe hedidwant to kiss her again. “Oh,Ihave double standards? Excuse me, Captain Make-The-Lady-Think-His-Grandmomma’s-Dying. And don’t get me started on what else you’ve done wrong.”
“And you’re changing the subject. You lost, fair and square. Say it.”
“You lost, fair and square,” she parroted.
She had, and they both knew it. But his eyes were swirling into matching black holes, and she was too far inside their gravitational pull.
“I’m starting to see why you’ve got an ex-husband.”
