“Or is it a gorgeous blonde.”
“Shut up.” He never should have kissed Cami last night. Not that he’d tell Michael.
Michael motioned to the side of the room. “Think Cami could use some assistance?”
Her blonde curls bounced against her back as she carried an armload of platters and stepped out the door.
“If you don’t help her, I will,” Michael said.
Not about to be bested by his brother, he sprinted and caught up with her. “Hey.”
Her dishes clattered. “Rhett?”
He reached out to steady her. “Hold still. I’ll take the top dishes” He lifted off three platters.
“Thanks. These turned out to be heavier than I first thought.” Her bottom swayed as she headed toward the kitchen
“What’d you think of today?” He walked beside her up the steps leading into the house.
“I liked the music and learning new dance steps.”
He transferred the platters in one hand and held the door for her. “My toes’ll never be the same after a spin on the floor with you.”
“Wasn’t my boots.” He expected her to laugh, not gawk at him and say, “You and Lori look good together.”
“About that—”
They reached the kitchen. His mom sipped coffee at the table.
He hugged her. “Great party, Mom.”
Cami set the dishes in the sink, rinsed a platter, and placed the item in the dishwasher.
Lilly’s dark eyes twinkled, as she said, “Cami, you’ve already done plenty. I’ll have my help finish up in the morning.”
Cami yawned as she wiped her hands on a towel. “I am exhausted.”
“We’re gonna call it a night.” He kissed his mom.
“I like that girl. Fits in well,” she whispered.
As he walked Cami to his truck, he itched to put his arm around her, itched to kiss her, but played it safe and opened her door.
Chapter Ten
Rock music blared on the clock radio. Cami reached over to her nightstand and pushed the sleep button. “Five already?” Morning came excessively fast. She flopped on the mattress and covered her head with her pillow.
A drum solo pounded from the radio. “Okay, I’m up.” Bleary eyed, her mind foggy, she switched the tiny knob to off.
Quarter to six. Twenty minutes to dress. Her father’s words played inside her head, “Cupids arise early, alert and ready for their commitments.”
Usually, she woke on her own. Why not today?
The party. Cleanup kept her out until midnight.
She jumped out of bed and immediately texted, “Mission Completed.” The council would be pleased. Her arrow successfully hit Rhett’s heart, and he’d kissed Lori afterwards. Further proof of their love chemistry.
Rhett kissing Lori gnawed at her mind like a puppy gnawed at a shoe. Quit thinking about him. He’s not for me—he’s forbidden.
She dressed in jeans and a pink sweater. With her task completed, she should return home in a day or two. The thought of saying goodbye made her sad. She enjoyed working for Michael and Rhett. A tear slipped down her cheek. She blamed her leaky eyes on lack of sleep.
She glanced at her communicator.
Nothing.
She shook it. Banged it on the table.
Not a single word.
She sent another missive.
I hit Rhett Holloway with my arrow. Mission completed successfully.
As she finished her tea, a message from the captain flashed.
Don’t be hasty in your judgement. Check for certainty with the following questions.
Does the subject’s eyes light up when he says the love interest’s name? Does he seek her out in a crowd?
Rhett sought Lori for alone time in the stables.
Does he create ways to make contact? It could be a kiss, a brush of his fingers along her arm, hand holding.
She’d seen them kiss.
Has he called her? Asked her out?
She assumed he would soon.
Does he take extra time primping for his date? You know, fancy clothes, cologne, gelling his hair.
Rhett doesn’t primp. It’s not his style.
A word of caution. Males are often reluctant to show an emotional connection.
No surprise there.
If nothing happens within a week or two, a second love dose may be required.
There’s no need to panic. In her heart, she knew that the first arrow would fix everything. She let out a deep breath. Soon, she’d be heading back to Cupid’s Corner a success.
Not really a success. Not after she made a huge blunder.
A couple more weeks on the ranch would give her plenty of time to prepare for her return.
A part of her wouldn’t mind staying on Earth indefinitely.
She didn’t mind Earth. The people were friendly. Nobody judged her archery skills.
She didn’t mind her human body. She liked being taller, wearing jeans and T-shirts.
She didn’t mind her new job. Cooking without magic had been challenging at the beginning, but she’d done all right.
Her steps seemed lighter as she headed to the ranch. Rhett sipped coffee and leaned his elbows on the front porch. He was okay, nothing special. Nothing special except for the way his muscular arms and broad shoulders filled his shirts. Nothing special except for how his eyes sparkled when he taunted her.
“Mornin’.” He rubbed his day-old stubble chin. “You could’ve slept in.”
“I don’t mind getting up to cook.”
“Then if you’re up to it, please make your delicious blueberry muffins. They’re my favorite.”
“You’ll have to wait and see what I decide to create.” She put an extra sway as she went inside, quite certain his eyes were following her.
~ ~ ~
Two nights later, Cami squeezed in the middle section of Michael’s truck to head for the bowling alley. Hot air blew from the heater vents keeping her toasty warm.
Rhett slid into the seat’s bench on her right. “This is cozy.”
“Try sitting in the middle wedged between the two of you.” She breathed in his woodsy scent.
“You don't mind.” Rhett crooned wickedly seductive.
She knew better than to react, but her foolish heart didn’t listen.
The truck turned left onto the main highway. Rhett’s thigh pressed against hers. Even with fabric separating them, the man radiated heat. “Ever been bowling?”
“A time or two, but I’m not very good.” At Aphrodite’s Lanes, she’d thrown diamond bowling balls at titanium pins.
Rhett swathed his arm along the bench seat. “Bet you throw all strikes.” His confidence in her might be misguided still her pulse sped. He turned up a song about a lying cheatin’ husband.
“You guys ever listen to rock? You know the Stones, Led Zeppelin.” In her world, Cupids adored “Stairway to Heaven.”
Michael snickered. “Name a rock song that can beat “All My Ex’s Live in Texas” or “Don't Cry on My Shoulders ’Cause You’re Rustin' My Spurs.”
Cami giggled. “You guys need to expand your listening horizons ... um ... channels.”
A bright sign flashed for Thunder Lanes Bowling. They parked next to Violet’s car as she and Lori got out.
The group walked inside. Cami tried not to gawk at her surroundings. It wasn’t easy. The cocktails sign sparkled. The walls were decorated with a gigantic bowling ball and pin silhouettes. On one of the wooden lanes, a man threw a red ball toward white pins.
Rrrrrrrrrrr. Cling.
The shouts of “Aww” and “ha-ha” meshed together.
In Cupid’s Corner, bowling on white clouds lacked the imperfect charm found in this establishment.
“Shoe rentals are over there.” Rhett pointed to the left. “I’ll get us a lane.” He veered right. His brother and the other two women followed.
Cami waited at the counter.
Ace strolled next to her and clunked his
black bag on the floor. “Rhett sent me over for support.”
“I take it drab brown’s the owner’s favorite color.”
“Could be.” Cute with wavy blond hair and dark eyes, he reminded her of Zander.
“What size shoe ya need?” A heavy-set man behind the counter asked.
“Size? I think a five-and-a-half or a six.” She took off her pink boot and handed it to him.
“Smallest woman’s we have is seven.” He compared the soles. “Too big. Might find something in the kids’ section.” The clerk set out brown shoes with lime green soles and orange shoelaces. “These should fit.”
The clashing tones hurt her eyes. “You have anything less colorful?”
“Sorry, miss.”
She reluctantly left her boots as collateral and sat at a bench.
Ace stood. “May I tie your shoes?”
“Sure.” The less she had to look at the dreadful colors, the better. Once he was done, he offered his hand to help her rise.
“Hope you’re not superstitious. Rhett secured lane number thirteen.”
“Nope.” Born on that day, she considered it blessed.
They took the carpeted aisle to the right and stepped down the slope to their lane.
Violet stood behind a table with a screen and punched the keys. “I’ve partnered everyone. Rhett you’re with Lori. Ace’s with Cami. Michael, it’s you and me. Cami. Do you spell your name with two m’s and an ie?”
“No. One m, no e’s.”
“Got it.” Violet slunk in beside Michael.
Rhett cruised by Cami and pointed down. “Nice.”
“I know. Aren’t my shoes vibrant?” Cami took a seat kitty-corner to Violet.
Ace plopped next to her, his spicy cologne drifted.
A pink-haired waitress in a short polyester dress and high heels stilettoed over toward the men. “The usual?”
“Of course.” Michael gave a boyish grin and turned to Violet. “You ladies want beer?”
Violet nodded, as did Lori.
“No beer, here.” Cami wanted to try something fun. “What fizzy drinks do you have?”
Rhett spoke up. “She likes champagne.”
She’d asked for champagne the night they’d watched the hockey game. The night she’d drunk beer and later experienced an adverse reaction to the barley.
“Don’t carry champagne.” The thirtyish woman put her hand on her hip and twirled her empty tray on her pointer finger. “Will wine do?”
“You have anything sweet like ambrosia, but non-alcoholic?” She planned to keep her wits intact tonight.
“Cherry Coke.” The waitress said, snapping her gum.
“I’ll take it.”
“Five beers and one soda. Want dogs and fries with that?”
“Yep,” Michael answered, and the waitress scurried toward the bar.
Rhett’s eyes held Cami’s for a second.
Lori pressed her lips together.
He turned to Lori. “Our team’s up first.”
She took a baby-blue ball out of her bag.
Ace said to Cami. “Bet you’re good at this game.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” In cloud-covered lanes magic resets the pins, strikes created thunder and lightning. Unlike her friends, Cami’s demanding archery schedule gave her little time for recreation.
“I’ll give you some pointers.”
“Okay.”
“See how relaxed Lori is, her knees bent,” Ace spoke in an instructive whisper.
Cami nodded, admiring how Lori’s baby blue shoes matched her ball.
He stretched his arm around the back of the bench. “Notice how Lori stays focused when she throws.”
Cami had mastered focusing on archery, well, almost mastered it.
Lori’s first ball knocked down all the pins. On the overhead TV screen, an animated bowler appeared and said, “Strike,” and drew an X by her name. She rushed over to Rhett and high-fived him.
“The key is a straight release,” Ace kept his voice lowered.
It made sense. Cami watched Rhett stand. Lori’s eyes were riveted on him.
“I wouldn’t copy Rhett’s style. He’s a power player, uses his upper body strength to generate the ball’s speed.” Ace mentioned Rhett’s upper body strength, and Cami recalled his muscular shoulders in the shower. The idea caused her face to heat.
She shifted her attention to Ace. “How ’bout you?”
“I’m not into hot-shotting. Prefer consistency.”
“So do I.” Consistency without errors had been drilled into her brain for as long as she could remember.
Rhett strode toward the lane. His lithe body moved with elegance as he released the ball. It spun and veered to the right.
It’s going into the gutter. Her fingers clenched tightly together. The ball spun toward the center pin.
Rrrrrrrrrrr. Cling.
“He did it.” A teeny shriek escaped as she stood.
“You doubted me?” Rhett called, beaming a smile.
“Of course not, boss.” A giggle slipped out. “But I assume you can’t do it again.”
He chuckled as he sat next to Lori while watching Cami.
Lori put her hand on Rhett’s shoulder and whispered into his ear.
The arrow she shot a few days ago contained an exceptionally potent love potion. He should be as smitten with Lori as she seemed to be with him. The potion didn't appear to be working. Why not? Cami had followed the directions perfectly, hadn’t she? She blinked several times and gazed at Rhett. He must be one of those people who could mask his love-light.
Ace talked continually as Violet and Michael had their turns.
Cami tuned him out and watched the other lanes. The concession stand glowed with blue lighting. Rock music played. A father assisted his little girl. A group of teens high-fived. A team of adults in bright yellow uniforms applauded a white-haired man’s strike.
“Your turn,” Ace said, his dark eyes shone as he held up a ball. “Think this pink one should work for you.”
Cami placed two fingers and added her thumb in the holes, took four steps, and let the cotton candy colored ball go. It rolled along the center arrow, straight for a few feet, and went into the gutter. Holy Chaos, her bowling skills were pathetic.
“You’ll get it next time.” Ace’s encouragement was nice..
She grabbed her ball from the return tray, breathed in slowly, relaxed her fingers, wrists, and stance. She let go of the ball. It went straight from the second arrow on the left and knocked down five pins. Progress. Not perfection.
“Almost had it.” Violet snapped her fingers.
Almost! Cami despised that word. Losers almost made their shots. Losers shot the wrong person and had to fix their mistake.
Ace took his turn, his head high. A blond wave fell into his eyes as he threw a strike.
She checked on Lori and Rhett. Rhett didn’t hold Lori’s hand or put his arm around her, but she would touch his arm and smile brightly as he spoke. He acted like they were just friends. Friends could become lovers, couldn’t they?
The captain said men were slow to show emotional connection. No need to worry. She sipped her cherry Coke, got a sugar rush, and caught Rhett smiling at her. A shiver of desire tingled up her spine.
The game finished. Rhett and Lori won.
They played a second game. Violet went first, hit nine, and got a spare. Michael threw a strike.
Cami went next. She tuned out her surroundings, concentrated and let the ball go. It veered from the left to the center and knocked down nine pins. The one pin standing at the back wobbled and fell down. Everyone cheered. She should be ecstatic as she headed for her seat but couldn’t let go of the last game.
“You did it.” Ace hugged her, reminding her of a supportive older brother.
Rhett gave her a thumbs up.
Ace took his turn, threw another strike, and high-fived her.
Lori’s next ball knocked down seven pins. The animated bowler o
n the screen added a seven and totaled seventeen in her box.
“Lori had that one. Why’d she miss?” Cami needed clarification.
“She added a spin when she let the ball go.”
“I see.” Mastery of this game wouldn't be easy.
Rhett took his turn. She held her breath and watched all the pins fall. His fist went into the air as he glanced her way. “Thought I couldn’t do it.”
“I have faith in you,” “Lori said with an adoring sigh.
“Lori and Rhett took first,” Violet announced. “Michael and I came in second.”
“We’ll get it next time,” Ace didn’t have any agitation in his voice. Losing didn’t appear to be a big deal. He walked next to her as she turned in her shoes. “Would you like to go to the movies tomorrow night?”
“Ace, you’re a fantastic guy, but—”
“You’re into Rhett.”
“No way. He’s my boss. Besides, he’s with Lori.”
“No, he’s not.” Ace laughed. “You’re blind if you can’t see it. He likes you.”
The guy was delusional.
They caught up with the group. Violet and Michael held hands. Lori and Rhett didn’t. Cami would have to use the second arrow dose soon.
“Tonight was fun.” Ace hugged her, brought his mouth inches from hers but pulled away. “That oughta make Rhett jealous,” he whispered. As he strutted to his truck, he turned back toward her and waved. His turbo engine vroomed, his tires squealed as he raced off.
Rhett and Lori parted, her eyes fixated on Rhett as he strolled toward Michael’s truck. Rhett never noticed the poor woman.
“What’s up with you and Ace?” Rhett quirked an eyebrow as he unlocked the truck’s door and held it open for Cami.
“Nothing.” She shrugged.
“Shot him down?” The corners of his mouth lifted.
“Why would you think that?” She slid inside the cab.
“No reason.” His eyes darkened as he gazed at her. He wasn’t into Cami.
Lori was his soulmate. Another love arrow dose would prove the point.
Chapter Eleven
The next day, nothing went right. Cami burnt her wrist taking muffins out of the oven, overcooked the eggs, undercooked the bacon. When she served breakfast, neither man complained.
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