“You sure are,” Cabe calls after me.
The pool area is dimmer than the rest of the bar, lit by green glass lamps hanging over the tables.
Harleigh grabs a cue from the rack and spins it playfully in her hands. “You play much, Porter?”
“I used to. Haven’t much lately.”
She grins. “Me neither.”
I pick a stick and roll it between my palms. “You said you were going to wipe the floor with me.”
“I am.” She grabs the triangle rack and begins setting up the balls.
I lean against the edge of the table, watching her.
She bends slightly to arrange the rack.
Damn.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
She glances up and catches me staring.
Her mouth curves slowly. “Don’t get distracted, cowboy.”
I clear my throat. “Just admiring your technique.”
She laughs softly as she slides the triangle away.
“Ladies first,” I say.
“Thank you,” she says sweetly before leaning over the table and lining up the break.
Her hair falls forward over one shoulder.
Then she looks up at me and winks as she strikes the cue ball. Hard.
The balls explode across the table.
Two solids immediately drop into pockets.
Harleigh straightens.
A triumphant grin spreading across her face.
“Well now,” she says, “look at that.”
I chuckle. “Beginner’s luck?”
She shrugs. “Must be.”
She circles the table leisurely, analyzing every angle.
Another loud crack.
Another ball sinks.
Behind us, I hear Charli yell, “That’s my girl!”
