“Tell me that’s a lie.” Branna shuddered.
“God’s truth.”
“I wonder what her story is?”
“I really don’t want to know, because if it was a bad one I’d have to feel sorry for her, and that just doesn’t sit right,” Annabelle said, putting down her glass. “Now, enough about Millicent. Let’s go throw the ball around and show those boys who’s got the best arm.”
“Do I have to come? You know how useless I am at that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, but you make me look good.”
They found the men playing touchdown with a few of the town’s teenagers. Sides had been drawn and they were facing off against each other. Ethan had his cap on backwards and was on Buster’s team; Jake and Newman were on the opposing side. There were plenty of spectators willing to offer advice too, all cheering from the sidelines.
“Got room for us?”
“This is a man’s sport, Smith. Go back to the kitchen,” Buster said, and it was followed by hoots of laughter.
“I’m gonna make you eat those words, Griffin,” Annabelle snarled, entering the spirit of the game with relish.
Ethan swallowed his smile as like him, Annabelle turned her cap so the peak was at the back and bared her teeth. She was wearing shorts that showed off those sexy legs and a long sleeved t-shirt that fell to the hem of her shorts. Her feet were bare, as was her face, and for some reason she looked hotter than she did all dressed up. Of course, he knew that she could appear before him caked in mud and he’d still want her.
“We ain’t got time for your sissy B.S., Smith. Go play with your dolls,” Ethan said, watching her as he spoke in case she launched an attack. ‘Never turn your back on Annabelle Smith,’ Buster had once told him. ‘She’s volatile and quick as a snake, Gelderman, and needs constant watching.’ Not that watching her was a hardship, he thought as she jogged into the line across from him.
“Don’t you take any notice of them, Annabelle, honey,” Jake said, patting her shoulder. “We’ll take them apart and then they’ll be crying like babies. Branna, my love, you go stand there next to Number Five. He’ll look after you.”
“I don’t need looking after!”
Ethan caught Branna around the waist and gave her a hug. “It’s okay, sweet cheeks. You’ll only add to our already lethal strike power.”
“Unhand my woman, Tex, or prepare to die.”
“You girls done with the talk? ’Cause I can feel a grey hair sprouting.” This was from Newman, who was standing directly across from Ethan.
“Sissy!” Buster snarled.
“Go play with your muffin trays,” Jake spat back.
By now the people around them were laughing. Ethan loved this town, loved the feeling that had embraced him when he arrived. He knew his friends were the main reason, but there was just something about being part of a community where everyone knew each other, and now they were starting to get to know and accept him, even if he was and always would be an outsider.
The play was fast and furious, and in seconds, Ethan’s shirt, which was actually Jake’s so he wasn’t too worried, was ripped on the shoulder.
“That’s my shirt!”
“You ripped it.”
They were hard on each other and any of the teenagers who could cope, but he refused to hurt either Branna or Annabelle, a fact that had Annabelle fuming.
“Don’t you dare go easy on me, Gelderman!” Her face was inches from his as she glared at him. “You let up because you knew it was me catching the ball. I don’t need any of that shit from you, got it?”
“You’re an inch from my face, Smith. I imagine they heard you back in town,” he taunted.
She was hot, her face pink from running. Her chest was rising and falling, which did nice things to her already outstanding breasts.
“I can’t tackle a woman, Annabelle. It’s the way of things,” he said, trying to sound reasonable when all he was doing was trying to annoy the shit out of her.
She drew back her fist and punched him in the stomach. It was hard, not enough to really hurt, but it still sucked the breath right out of his body.
“How about now?” While he was bent double, she stomped back into the line.
