Page 134 of Waiting Game

“So, what happened with Gracie?”

This makes no sense.

He’sthe one who contacted me out of the blue.

He’s the one still holding me.

That he hasn’t let go gives me the courage to whisper, “I’m going to preface my answer with a caveat.”

“Fancy talk. I dig it.”

Startled, I huff out a laugh. “Be serious.”

His eyes twinkle, which makes this so much weirder.

Why isn’t he angry with me?

Like he can hear that question, he drawls, “I spent all summer angry at you. If you want to know what changed, then you have to give me some logic.”

I don’t have to do dick.

With any other guy,thatis what’d spill from my lips, but Cole’s not really pushing me. The lack of pressure makes it easier to confess:

“The day before we went to the press, I had no idea what was going on with the bar.”

“Your uncle was running an illegal bookie?”

“What?! No,” I sputter.

“Did he hold cockfights out the back?”

“No!”

His nose crinkles. “What, then?”

“My god, your imagination is wild.”

“Plenty about me is, babe. So, what was going on in this baseballer’s idea of a den of inequity?”

“You read too much romance,” I complain.

He winks at me. “There’s no such thing.”

“He showed me a couple of debts.”

“Huh. Boring.”

Annoyed, I glower at him. “Boring for someone rich!”

“True. Sorry. You can’t deny that mine were more interesting.”

“You should write a book.”

“Maybe I will when I’m old and gray.”

“Anyway, he showed me?—”

“Wait. You said ‘a couple of debts.’ As in, he didn’t show you all of them?”

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