“I still can’t believe you’ve never played before.”
“Why is that?”
“You just seem like someone who would pretend not to know how to play and then end up kicking my ass.”
She leans forward over the edge of the table, giving me the perfect view of her cleavage as she lines up her stick to the cue ball, draws it back, and slams it forward, knocking her first ball into the corner pocket flawlessly.
Her brow arches. “Who? Me?”
My eyes narrow as I watch her stand back up and rest her hip against the table. “So youdoknow how to play.”
“I played a bit in college. I’m no professional, but I can definitely hold my own.” Lifting her soda to her lips, she smirks around the straw.
And there goes my dick getting excited again.
“Anything else I should know you’re good at?”
“Nothing I want to reveal just yet.”
Nodding, I scour the table and find Vienna’s next logical shot. To my surprise, she attempts a different one and sinks that ball into the side pocket. “But come on,” she adds, glancing at me over her shoulder. “There’s got to be something you’re good at that you like to keep tucked close to the vest.”
“Actually, there is.”
“Care to share since you know mine now?”
I watch her set up for her next shot, but this one bounces a little too far to the right of the pocket, making it my turn finally. “Blackjack.”
“So you’re a gambler?”
“I mean, not really. My best friends and I learned how to play in high school, so now that’s our thing when we get together. Some buddies play golf or poker… We play blackjack.”
“I love that. It’s different.”
“My buddy’s sister calls us The Blackjack Brotherhood.” Shaking my head, I mutter, “I hate it.”
“Oh, come on. That’s prime T-shirt material. Can you imagine the looks and questions you’d get if you all wore that out in public? I’m sure women would be foaming at the mouth to know why you call yourselves that.” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice.
“Not sure women are looking for that, but to each their own. At least it’s not golf. I never understood that hobby. It takes way too fucking long to play anyway, and I don’t like being away from my daughter for that long.”
Her eyes widen. “You—you have a daughter?”
My pulse spikes as I realize I just shared that with her, a person I barely know and yet, feel like I know very well.
“Yeah, I do.”
“How old is she?”
“Five.”
Her smile is instant. “Such a fun age.”
“It really is. Although, some days I feel like she’s five going on fifteen. She’s extremely observant and never forgets anything you say.”
Vienna laughs. “I bet she’s headstrong too.”
“What makes you say that?”
Her eyes move up and down my body. “I just get the sense that you wouldn’t let her grow up unaware of what she does and does not deserve.” The compliment catches me off guard, especially since I’m not sure where her conclusion came from. But then she continues. “She’s probably just as bossy as you too.”
