He winced. “Aw, jeez, I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I was already late before I saw the ants. My fault. Bet you can’t hit another three-pointer.”
“Been late since?” he prompted.
“Two-pointer. I still want to know about the Windex.”
He tossed his second bola and ringed the one-point rung. He glanced at her, then grinned an unabashed grin. “Saw it in a movie.”
“Which movie?”
He gestured toward the ladder. “Two-pointer.”
His toss fell short.
“Movie?” she prompted.
He raked a hand over his short hair, and she noticed a hint of curl at the ends. “Can’t remember the name. Some girly flick with big hair and ugly dresses.”
What did Windex have to do with big hair and— “And a wedding?”
“Sounds about right. Kaci hog-tied me and Lance and glued our eyeballs open so we had to watch it all. Didn’t mind the hog-tying part, but that glue gunked up my eyes for weeks.”
He’d usedMy Big Fat Greek Weddingto make himself look good.
And then he’d admitted to it. Wasn’t something most guys she knew would’ve done. “Your eyes looked fine to me.”
“Shucks, ma’am, your eyes look real fine too.”
So did his smile. But despite the weird flippy-do in her belly, she had to laugh. “I walked right into that.”
“Sure did.”
“C’mon, Anna,” Kaci called. “Get us back in the running.”
Nowthat,she could handle. She stared down the target and tested the weight of her bola. She swung it back and forth. She was about to let go when Jackson murmured, “’Course, your trunk’s real fine too. Nice ’n clean.”
The bola slipped out of her hand and almost beaned Lance. “Sorry,” she called to him.
He waved it off. “Suppose you owed me for Kaci here.”
Anna turned on Jackson, hands on hips, bolas dangling against her knee. “Are we playing dirtier now?”
“Sure wouldn’t mind, but my momma’d have my hide if she heard I cheated. Betcha your last name you can’t hit that there two-pointer.”
Anna faltered. She hadn’t decided yet what she wanted her last name to be.
He seemed to realize he’d goofed, because he started to say something, but she cut him off before she let her brain process the words. “Middle name if you still have four points when I’m done. But if I knock you off, I want to meet this momma of yours.”
He glanced over at the ladder, then back at her, his eyes getting all squinty. “Big fighting words for a Yankee.”
“Chicken?”
“That’d be like being afraid of winning. You go on and take your turn, then go on and whisper that little name right here in my ear.”
As if. Anna got into good bola-swinging stance and let it swing like a pendulum. No way could she take his three-pointer off. But she might be able to do something about that one-pointer. She brushed her thumb over the divots on thegolf ball. Yeah, she could take his one-pointer off.
“Got a lot of equipment to squeeze into my drawers,” Jackson murmured.
