When we’re all wholly buzzed, and the only one safe enough to drive is Dylan, we decide that it might be time to get her home. We pile into Grant’s minivan, singing all the way to Grady’s house.
I notice Ember’s truck in the driveway when we pull up, and I’d be lying if I deny that my heart skipped a beat. I want to see him again, but another part of me is scared at how my body reacts to him, the way I respond to him. I suck in a breath and decide that there is no time like the present.
I watch him and Brody play pool and smile. He seems to be good with kids. My son wouldn’t even give him the time of day if he wasn’t.
“Go and talk to him,“ Dylan tells me.
“Just so you know, I was watching Brody,” I insist.
“Just go.”
“Fine.” I don’t know why my heart pounds against my chest or why I feel as brave as I do. I should turn around before I do something I will later regret. Can I trust myself to talk to him, or even be around him, after the other night? As I approach, I hear the two of them cheering and roll my eyes at them using the word “ass-whipping.” Although, with the way he looks right now, I wouldn’t mind him giving me one or vice-versa. I clear my throat, and they both look up, and for the briefest of moments, my eyes connect with Ember’s, and his lips quirk devilishly.
Chapter 8
Ember
The guys are tossing balls, playing darts and pool, and then the giggling starts. My breath catches in my throat at the thought of her being amongst them. Shelby has been on my mind more often than I care to admit.
“They’re back.” Brody groans when he sees the ladies taking a seat on the back porch.
“They aren’t so bad.” Grady laughs. “One of them is your momma.”
“But it’s supposed to be a boy’s night.” The little boy sulks.
“It still can be,” I interrupt. Let’s play pool while the husbands go meet their wives.” I pretend to be grossed out, and the boy loves it. We stand and make our way over to the pool tables. The guys saunter over to their women, kisses and hugs are exchanged, and I watch on. There’s a twist in my gut, and I look away, my focus on the kid. He’s setting up the balls already, getting us two cues and some chalk. I feel a smile tug at my lips, at the serious expression on his face.
He cracks open the set, and a few stripes fall in. At first, I think it’s beginner’s luck, but the more I watch him, the more I realize that the boy is good for a kid. Despite me dropping a few balls in, he’s ahead of me.
“You’re pretty good at this,” I tell him. “I thought I’d have to go slow on you.”
He beams up at me. “Uncle Grady taught me. I play a lot. He says that we’ll have a championship in the summer, and he’ll get a real trophy and everything for the winner.”
“That sounds pretty cool.”
“It is.” Brody looks at me. “So, where are you from?”
“Seattle,” I tell him.
He considers that. “I haven’t been anywhere but, Sunnyville.”
“For now, but you’ll travel to all kinds of places when you’re older.” I walk past him and ruffle his mop of brown hair. “But don’t go hurrying to grow up.”
He nods and grins, taking another shot, the ball landing in the pocket. “Stripes rule.” He giggles. It’s a warm sound, like sitting in front of a fire after being in the cold for too long. His eyes dance with excitement, the closer he gets to winning.
“Is it different fighting fires in the city than here?” he asks, his eyes wide with interest. I think about that.
“I guess it is. There are a whole lot more buildings in the city, and that makes for busy days.”
He nods, taking his shot. When he lands that coveted black ball, he swings his cue stick in the air and lets out a whoop.
“That was incredible, Brody.” I smirk, walking over to high five him. “You really gave me an ass whipping.”
A clearing of the throat has the two of us turning to the doorway. And fuck if I am not pleased to see her sassy ass standing there, frowning at me. She’s in a shirt tied up at the front displaying her belly button and shorts so tiny, I have to look away.
“You guys are incorrigible. How am I supposed to teach him manners when I have over a dozen of you trash talking all the time.” But there’s a hint of amusement lacing her voice, that and a slight slur.
I throw my hands up in defeat, then grin at her sheepishly, and Brody giggles, running up to his mom and flinging his arms around her middle. He is so tall, he already comes up to her chest.
