Page 4 of Karma's Kiss

His brown eyes peer up at me from where he’s bent over collecting balls from one of the pockets. “Some have speculated that you might have let yourself go toward the end of the relationship…”

I snort, unladylike as it might be, and shake my head. “Of course there had to be a reason, right? Guys don’t just break off engagements for no reason.”

He shrugs. “That’s what they were thinking.”

My chin takes on a hard set as I try to keep from getting worked up over a bunch of meaningless nonsense. People gossip in small towns. It’s what they do. Most of them probably see it as their God-given right: Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not covet.Thou shalt talk as much shit about thy neighbor as thy damn well please.

“Obviously they were wrong,” Sawyer says, drawing my attention back to him.

“Yeah?”

“Thatcan’t be why the relationship ended.”

I consider what he’s saying, and then my cheeks heat so much they must be cherry red. It feels like a compliment, though it’s so tangled up with everything else we’ve been saying I doubt he genuinely meant it that way. Even if he did, he’s probably just trying to be nice.

“You still know how to play?” he asks, nodding at the pool table.

I grin. “Think I’ve gone soft living in Montgomery?”

David taught me how to play pool years ago, back when he and his friends were seniors and I was a lowly freshman. I learned in this very room, on these pool tables. I wasn’t ever very good and I’m definitely out of practice. Matthew wasn’t much of a pool kind of guy. He preferred tennis at the club on the weekdays and golf on the weekends. Playing pool in a smoky back room of a bar just wasn’t his style, and by extension, couldn’t be mine either.

Sawyer grabs a spare pool cue from where they’re mounted on the wall and holds it out for me to take. I curve around the table as I approach him, and though I’m wary of getting too close, I try not to show it.

Sawyer’s wearing jeans and a black shirt, dirty work boots, and a teasing smile that makes desire curl in my stomach in a way it definitelyshouldn’t. I reach out for the cue he’s holding, but he doesn’t relinquish it right away. I don’t tug. There’s no sense in fighting him for it. Sawyer has me trumped in every way that matters here: height, strength, confidence. He’s grown upinto such a man, and though I know I’ve grown up too, here and now, I feel as small as ever.

“I like that dress,” he says, holding my gaze.

I look down at the white sundress with its short hem and thin spaghetti straps. My mom bought it for me for my last birthday knowing it would look great on me. Back in high school, I would havekilledfor the body I have now. I was knobby kneed well into college, and now that I actually have curves to show off, I’m all too happy to do it.

“Little fancy for John’s though, don’t you think?”

I smirk. “At least one of us dressed for the occasion.”

He laughs. “I came straight from the vineyard. Next time I’ll wear a tuxedo.”

He lets go of the cue and I step back, grateful for the distance he puts between us when he takes his turn and breaks, easily pocketing two solid balls in one go. Then he takes aim at another one and sinks it too. His turn continues until he’s pocketed five balls.

“Guess I’m stripes…” I mumble under my breath.

Obviously, he’s playing to win. I feel his eyes on me when I step around the table and try to act like I’m employing high-level geometry skills to triangulate my shot when in reality I’m just trying to keep my hands from visibly shaking as I bend down and aim for the cue ball.

“Want a little help?”

I can picture it: him sidling up behind me, leaning his heavy body over mine. “No thank you.”

I pull back and whack the cue ball, but it spins out, hits the side rail, and loses momentum before it manages to connect with anything. I stand and push my shoulders back.

“Andthat’show it’s done,” I quip.

Sawyer tosses his head back and laughs, and I shamelessly watch him do it when I should be girding my loins andhightailing it out of here. What the hell am I doing playing pool with Sawyer Garnett? Kendra would have a field day if she saw us; shewillhave a field day when I tell her about it tomorrow.

“So is any of that gossip true?” Sawyer asks on his next turn.

“Which part?”

He takes another shot and easily pockets another solid. Then he keeps his attention on the table as he positions himself for his next shot.

Whack.

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