by Karen Kelley
What if? What if?
“I can see those wheels turning.” Pearl bit into her sandwich and slowly chewed.
This was the first time her mother had acknowledged that Cody might want to know more. She took a drink of her lemonade. It was tart, cool, and refreshing.
“Can you blame me?” she finally asked her mother, not willing to let it drop this time. “He was my father and I don’t even know what he looked like.”
She set her glass back on the table, running her fingers over the condensation that was forming.
Pearl hesitated, and Cody figured that she wouldn’t find out any more today than she had any other day, but then Pearl surprised her by continuing.
“Oh, you see him, you just don’t know it.”
Cody frowned.
“Every time you look in the mirror he’s staring back at you. You have his green eyes. I used to tell him he had the eyes of a leopard. When he looked at me, I couldn’t look away. It was like his eyes captured mine, hypnotizing me, and they wouldn’t let me go.”
Cody held her breath, cold chills running up and down her arms. This was the most Pearl had ever said.
“And black hair…just like yours. Coal black, but with a dark blue shine to it.” Pearl’s hands fluttered toward her hair. “I used to love running my fingers through it…” She gulped down half her lemonade before setting her glass back on the table. “Enough. Sometimes the past is best forgotten.”
The softness had left her voice, replaced by a hard edge. This was the mother Cody knew and that was the end of their conversation about her father. From experience, she knew Pearl wouldn’t say more. If she pushed too hard, it would drive her mother straight to the bottle.
But she knew more now. Excitement quickened her pulse. She knew her father had eyes the same color as hers, and dark hair. Someday she might even know why he’d left and never returned.
Maybe someday.
“You being careful?” Pearl asked, breaking the silence. “I mean at work and all.”
“I’m always careful.”
“Yeah, I saw how you’re always careful when you came by with that black eye that time.”
“Occupational hazard. Good with the bad.”
“I don’t like you going after scum. You’ll get yourself killed if you’re not careful.”
“I’m always careful. But don’t worry, I have a nice life insurance policy. If anything ever happens to me, you’ll be taken care of.” As soon as the words were out, she wanted to call them back.
Pearl stiffened.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I even said that.” She reached across the table for her mother’s hand, but Pearl pulled it away.
“I’m grateful you’re taking care of me like you are. Lord knows, you don’t have to. I remember all the times I passed out drunk and you had to take care of yourself. Never did bring any friends home because you were ashamed of me…”
“It wasn’t like that,” Cody interrupted.
“Yes, it was. You don’t have to sugarcoat the truth. I drank too damn much. I wasn’t there when you needed me.” When Pearl looked up, her eyes were swimming with tears.
Damn! Cody wanted to kick herself. Why had she done it? They were finally making a little progress and she’d gone and blown it. Guilt washed over her in waves as she stared at her mother.
Suddenly, it was as if a veil lifted from her eyes. When had Pearl begun to look so old? So tired? A tremble of fear weakened her knees.
For just a second she wanted to walk around the table and draw her mother into her arms, hold her close, and tell her the past didn’t matter. They could build on the future, but the words stuck in her throat.
She bit her bottom lip. She’d never hugged her mother, nor did she remember her mother hugging her. Abruptly, she came to her feet. “I need to be going.” She paused when she was even with her mother and squeezed Pearl’s shoulder, then hurried out of the room.
Once outside the apartment she leaned against the wall, her legs suddenly shaky, as if any second they might stop holding her up. Damn it, why couldn’t she just say to hell with it and hug her mother? Other people hugged their mothers. But she knew the answer—she didn’t know how.
From the other side of the door, she heard crying. Cody pushed away from the wall and hurried toward the staircase that would lead outside, into the fresh air and warm sunshine.
She slipped on her shades when the sun’s glare blasted her as she pushed through the doors.
Were all families as fucked up as hers? God, she hoped not.
Damn, she needed to unwind. Maybe she’d drop by The Blue Eagle this evening, see what was going on there. Now she was lying to herself. She’d been avoiding the bar, avoiding running into Josh. She missed him. So badly it caused a deep ache inside her.
He’ll hurt you.
No, she told the voice inside her head. I’ll be careful. I won’t let him.
The light over the pool table shone brightly on the green felt as Josh calculated what he would have to do to sink the eight ball. He blocked the noise from the crowded bar as he studied every angle.
When he glanced up, his opponent grinned.
Focus.
His gaze returned to the table as he slowly walked to the other side and leaned down, eyeballing the distance and angle between the two balls.
Shooting pool was second nature to him. Something he took for granted, like breathing. He’d been shooting pool since he could look over the table.
This shot would be difficult, but not impossible. He’d made harder ones.
“You can’t sink it,” Randy told him. “Why not just hand over the money now? Twenty green ones. Come to daddy.” He brought his fingers to his mouth and kissed the tips. “The big man is going down.”
Without answering, Josh straightened, chalking up his cue. Once again, he leaned over, took aim, and slammed the tip against the white ball. It crashed into the eight ball, spiraling it toward the corner pocket. He exhaled when it dropped inside with a sweet thud. The cue ball gently kissed the corner and stopped. He grinned as he looked up. “Not today, buddy. You owe me twenty.”
“Son-of-a-bitch. You have more luck than any one man deserves.” Randy pulled a twenty from his wallet and tossed it on the table. “That’s all for me.”
“Ah, come on, guys.” Josh tugged his black Stetson back to a comfortable position on his head. He frowned at the other three men who’d been watching, but were now nodding their heads in agreement with Randy. “The night is still young.”
“You already have all our money,” one of the men said. “Hell, we don’t even have enough cash to buy a beer. See what you’ve reduced us to.” He downed his head, shaking it forlornly.
“Like you didn’t take my money last week.” He looked toward the bartender. “Joe, a round of beers for the guys. Put it on my tab.”
“You got it.”
“Now that’s a true friend.” Randy put his stick on the rack and they left, heading toward the bar.
“Yeah, yeah,” Josh grumbled. “What are friends for?”
Josh leaned on his pool stick. Now what was he going to do for the rest of the night? He spent every evening at The Blue Eagle hoping Cody would show. Each night he’d left, a little more disappointed than the night before. He couldn’t face going back to his empty apartment. Not right now.
“Does anyone want to shoot a game?” Laughter followed his words, but when it died down a deep, sultry voice floated toward him from a dark corner.
“I’ll shoot a game with you. Heaven forbid you have to play with yourself.”
A shadow moved, slowly coming toward him. He sucked in a breath as Cody stepped into the light. He’d known she wouldn’t stay away forever.
His gaze drifted over her. The woman sure knew how to wear her jeans. She gave him a hard-on just looking at her.
And look he did.
She wore a white shirt that buttoned down the front and low-riding, body-hugging jean
s. Only thing was the shirt and jeans didn’t meet. About two inches of delectable skin showed, that and her sexy little belly button. It didn’t help that he remembered the last time he’d seen it. The way he’d swirled his tongue around it before dipping inside. Ah, damn, this wasn’t good.
“You going to stand there all day or are you going to rack ’em?” She sauntered to the corner and picked up a stick.
Josh couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted. He could only stare as she slowly caressed the stick, sliding her hand up then down the polished wood, licking her lips.
His mouth went dry.
She put the stick back and reached for another. He groaned as she slid her hand over that one, her thumb brushing the tip.
He quivered.
She faced him once again, eyebrows raised. “You haven’t racked the balls.”
He mentally shook his head, and leaned his stick against the table before reaching down and pulling the wooden triangle out of the slot. “You’ve pretty much racked my balls already,” he mumbled as he slapped the triangle on the table and gathered the balls. When they were set, he carefully removed the frame and put it back in the slot. “You want to break?”
He wondered what she was thinking as a slow, sexy grin lifted the corners of her mouth. No, maybe he didn’t want to know what she was thinking.
“Sure,” she said. “I’ll bust your balls.”
“Funny.”
“I thought so,” she said.
When she came around to the end of the table, he took her hand. It was soft and warm. He liked touching her. She stirred something deep inside of him that no woman had ever made him feel. It was probably just a super-sized case of pure lust, but she made him forget they were in a bar. Or what the hell they’d been talking about.
“Are we going to play or what?”
He really liked the way she said or what. Josh had a strong feeling she wasn’t thinking what he was thinking, though, but maybe the night wasn’t going to be a total loss.
“We haven’t wagered yet.” He met her eyes. Those sexy, penetrating green eyes that made it so damn hard to look away. How’d she do it?
“Wager? Aren’t we playing for fun?”
He leaned closer. She smelled nice, a light, tropical scent. Coconut and something else he wasn’t quite sure of, but it brought forth images of Cody lying on a beach towel with the sand and surf all around her, not a stitch of clothes on, sweat glistening on her skin.
He drew in a deep, ragged breath. “I never shoot pool for fun.”
She tugged her hand free and dug into her front pocket. Her pants crept down an inch. He held his breath. Cody pulled a few bills from her pocket and her pants rode back up.
Then he breathed.
“All I have is a couple of bucks.”
“Not enough,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Okay, so what do you want to wager?” Her voice took on a silky quality as her lids half lowered, concealing her thoughts.
“Another night with you.”
For just a moment, he thought she might agree, but he saw the subtle change, almost as if she’d closed herself off from him.
“I don’t wager for sex.”
“A kiss then.” Before she could say anything, he continued. “Just one kiss.”
She squared her shoulders and jutted out her chin. “And what will I win?”
“That is what you’ll win, darlin’. I haven’t figured out what you’ll owe me when you lose, but I bet I can come up with something.”
His grin was slow as his gaze swept over her. He’d been right about her—she’d been a handful, but damned if he didn’t want her more than ever. He hadn’t even begun to get her out of his system. Just once more, he wanted to touch her naked body, cup her breasts in the palms of his hands, testing the weight. He wanted to taste her…every delicious inch.
“Okay, let me get this straight. If I win, I get a kiss from you. And if you win, you get something else. Why do I have the feeling you wouldn’t care if I win or lose?” Sarcasm dripped from her words.
“Oh, I can guarantee you’ll enjoy the kiss as much as I will. You can’t tell me you didn’t like the last one or what followed.”
“Do you really think I haven’t had better?” She nudged him out of the way and bent over.
“No.”
“You might be wrong,” she said.
“I don’t think so.”
His gaze landed on her nicely rounded backside. He itched to reach out and caress it.
She propped the stick on her thumb, reared back, and hit the cue ball. Balls scattered. Two stripes fell into pockets. She straightened and smiled. “It looks like I have the bigger balls.”
He leaned against the wall and grinned. “So it would seem, but do you know what to do with them?”
“Oh, yeah, I know exactly what to do.” She moved to the other side of the table.
When she leaned over to size up her next shot, her top gaped open. Sweat beaded his brow. She wore a flimsy little piece of lace under her shirt. He was so damned jealous of her bra. It cupped and held two perfectly formed breasts while all he could do was salivate and fantasize about what it’d been like to squeeze and fondle them.
“Your turn.” She straightened.
“What?”
A knowing grin curved her lips. Son-of-a-bitch, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. How many times had he heard that Cody Carlyle fought dirty? Too many. He pushed away from the wall.
“We still haven’t agreed on our wager.” He shot and missed.
She grinned, leaned down, and made the next shot. “Okay. So let’s wager. If I win, you pick up my beer tab at the end of the night.”
“Fair enough. If I win, I’ll take the kiss.”
“But you’re not going to win,” she said as she sailed past, moving to the end of the table.
That’s what you think. Cody was good, but there was one thing she apparently didn’t realize. He fought dirty, too.
She leaned over, lining up her next shot, pulling the stick back.
“I love the way you bend over the pool table,” he said. “The way your bottom wiggles when you line up your ball. You’ve got the sweetest ass I’ve ever seen on a female.”
She shoved the stick forward, missing the cue ball entirely. Her eyes blazed when she whirled around. “That wasn’t fair.”
“Yeah, I know.” He tipped his hat further on his forehead and leaned in for his shot. He made it. Cody nibbled her bottom lip. He made the next shot and missed the next. He had five balls on the table to her four, but he wasn’t worried.
She glared at him before leaning in for her next shot.
“I told you that we’d be good in bed. I bet we would be again.” A grin tugged at his mouth, but he stopped it from forming. He’d beat her in the battle of wits.
She managed to hit the cue ball. It whisked by her ball without touching it.
He eyed the table, looking for the best shot. A piece of cake. She’d left him a gimme shot.
He caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye as she casually picked up the chalk. He blinked twice, trying to clear his mind and concentrate, but his gaze strayed to her hand and what she was doing with the chalk. There was something sensuous in the way she massaged it against the tip, sliding her other hand up and down the hard shaft of the pool stick.
A soft little groan escaped from between those sexy lips of hers. The kind of noise she’d made when they were making love. He remembered her lying on the bed, her legs slowly parting.
Blinking rapidly, he willed his mind to clear.
Focus!
He missed his shot.
Her grin was wicked.
Okay, so maybe beating Cody wasn’t going to be quite as easy as he thought.
“I’m tuning you out,” she warned as she stared at what he’d left her. “No matter what you say, it will not affect me.”
Yeah, right. What was she pulling now? Reverse psychology? It wouldn’t work. H
e moved in for the kill as she leaned over.
“I want to make love to you again, but then, you know that.”
She made the shot.
Damn, he’d used the voice that no woman had ever been able to resist. It didn’t seem to faze her at all as she straightened, moved around the other side of the table, and made another shot. The nine and fourteen were left on the table.
His eyes narrowed as she lined up her next shot. He stretched his neck to the right, then the left. He couldn’t let her win.
He drew in a deep breath. “When I go to bed, I think about you.” He moved to stand directly in front of the shot she was about to take.
“And what do you think about?” Boredom laced her words.
Her game wouldn’t work on him. Cody thought she had him—by the balls. Not so.
“I think about how I tasted every inch of your body.” His words were lazy, sensuous. A sheen of moisture glistened on her forehead. He ambled to the other side of the table, leaning closer to her, keeping his voice low. “Last night, I dreamed of sucking on your breasts, then moving lower, parting your legs and covering you with my mouth, running my tongue up and down you. God, it’s all I can think about sometimes. What you tasted like the other night. How hot I could make you again.”
She rammed her stick against the cue ball. The cue ball bounced off each side of the table and flew toward the opposite end. It came to a stop in the middle of the table without hitting a ball.
“You missed,” he casually told her as he picked up the chalk and passed it over the tip of his cue. “What a shame.” He shook his head in feigned sympathy.
“So I did,” she snapped. “But it doesn’t change the fact I only have two balls on the table and you have five. I’ll still beat you.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I do.” Palms on the edge of the table, she leaned forward. “And I’m feeling awfully thirsty so I hope you brought lots of money.”
“Cocky, aren’t you.”
“It goes with having the bigger balls.”
“So let’s increase the wager.”
She hesitated.
“Unless you’re afraid I’ll win.”