Page 13 of Playing for Keeps

“I’ve got to go.”

“No,” Pa-Emmett says, using his enforcer voice rather than his normal papa bear tone.

He follows me outside as I head to my hog. Before I can leave, he grips my shoulder. My pa’s so adorable when he thinks he can take me down. I hope I’m as delusional when I’m his age.

“Get your ass back into the house and make your ma understand.”

“I might have made a mistake. I need to see Lola and figure out if I should walk this thing back.”

Pa-Emmett blinks rapidly as his brain shifts from wanting me to stay to encouraging me to go.

“Marriage isn’t a contract, Val,” he says and steps back. “I don’t want you wasting your youth with a woman as part of a job promotion. Get it, kid?”

“Sure, Pa. Tell Ma, I’ll be back soon.”

“Maybe I should come with you, just in case Duke McGraw or his dumbass Suns plan to hassle you.”

“No, it’s cool. McGraw thinks he’ll be dead soon, so he’s super psyched about me. Like, he might be my biggest fan.”

Okay, I lost control of my lie at the end and gave myself away.

“Don’t be fooled,” Pa says in a low, intimidating voice. “Duke McGraw might come off as a nice guy. He acts like a mama’s boy and is always around his daughters. Real softie. But he’s the club’s president for a reason. If he thinks you’re a threat, he’ll make you disappear and deal with the consequences. He’s got that town all tied up. We’d never find your body.”

Grinning at my pa’s concern, I pat his cheek. “You’re forgetting the part where he needs our club to save his club. The Duke McGraw who would put me in the ground now wants me to become his replacement. At the very least, he doesn’t want you and the uncles to ride up his ass and destroy it.”

“Stop talking about us destroying people’s asses.”

“You started it.”

Emmett rolls his eyes and mutters, “I said that shit one time, like, ten years ago.”

“And it was so traumatizing for me that I’ll have it stuck in my head until I’m senile. Nice move, Pa.”

Before he can complain, I start my hog and rev the engine. He glares at me while I grin at him. He used to pull the same engine-revving move when we kids would hound him for something as he was trying to leave. This tactic never worked, of course. West would keep talking, I’d pretend to cry, and Tuesday would fake a fainting spell.

My pa is more susceptible to the move and backs off. I ride out of the garage and off the homestead. During the journey from my beloved hometown to a place I barely know, I consider how right everything felt when I was standing in the Basin Rock Bar. I looked at McGraw and saw his daughter.

Maybe if I see Lola again, I’ll feel settled. Or I might know I’ve made a mistake. Am I presidential material? Probably, but I might not be ready to be a husband.

I know Lola is usually around her family’s two main businesses—Rock Basin Bar and Mama McGraw’s Diner, which are located next to each other. I park my hog across the road from the two places and consider my options.

The last time I saw Lola, the sheer power of my sexual prowess turned her into a banshee. I was a little startled by how she looked at me and started squealing like a defective sex kitten. I thought we were having a weird yet flirty moment, but she kept hollering until I gave up and backed away.

Are we truly right for each other? Am I willing to move to this town to make a life with her? Will she scream at the sight of me today? Would a boner be the wrong reaction to her squeals?So many questions.

Not long after I park across from the businesses, Lola appears from her dad’s bar. She’s wearing a simple blue tank top, cutoff denim shorts, and Converse sneakers. Her straight dark hair hangs down past her luscious tits. Her puffy, pink lips twist into an annoyed frown. Her tanned legs shine in the afternoon sun. Her eyes are like bright, rage-filled sapphires.

“What?” she grumbles.

As I walk toward her, I wait for the banshee squeal to begin. She cocks an eyebrow as I keep approaching.

“What do you want, Val Mercer?” she spits in my direction.

Just like when she wailed at the store, her eyes hold amusement and just the right amount of horniness. It’s why I didn’t run away immediately when she banshee-wailed in the cereal aisle. I figured she was playing.

But the squealing went on and on. Even my sister can’t scream for so long. Just more proof of how Lola McGraw is someone special.

“I worried I’d made a mistake by agreeing to marry you,” I admit before looking her up and down. “But no, I’m still cool with this. See you at the wedding.”

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