Page 60 of Hooked On Them

“Absolutely.” I wiggled out from between Miles and Dominic, immediately missing their body heat. “Life-and-death stuff.”

Miles’s hand lingered on my waist as I stood, his thumb briefly hooking into the belt loop of my pants in a gesture that was oddly possessive. “Don’t let him hustle you; he seems like the type.”

“Hey, I resent that.” Carter put his hands on his hips. “I’m an honest businessman.”

“That’s an oxymoron,” Dominic muttered.

As I took a step away from the table, Miles landed a playful smack on my hip and winked. “Bring that cute ass back soon, babe.”

The casual endearment, combined with the touch, sent a completely inappropriate flash of heat through me. I caught the way Dominic’s knuckles whitened around his glass, the way his eyes tracked the movement of Miles’s hand like he was memorizing the coordinates for later destruction.

Weirdly, the possessiveness coming from both of them made something primal flare in my belly, even as my brain was screaming that this was a disaster in the making.

Carter guided me toward the pool tables with a hand at the small of my back. As we wove through the crowd, I felt the weight of eyes on me and risked a glance back.

Dominic was still watching, his expression dark and unreadable, while Miles was engaged in conversation with Hensley but glancing our way every few seconds.

“So,” Carter said as we reached an empty pool table, “that was subtle.”

“What was?” I began racking the balls, focusing on the task to hide the flush creeping up my neck.

Carter leaned in, lowering his voice. “The way both your hockey boys looked ready to commit murder when I touched you.” He straightened up with a grin. “Though I have to say, if I’m going to die, being dismembered by jealous athletes isn’t the worst way to go.”

I smacked his arm. “They’re not my hockey boys.”

“Tell that to their territorial caveman faces.” Carter selected a cue from the wall rack. “Also, full disclosure: I have no idea how to play pool.”

I blinked at him. “Then why did you suggest it?”

“Because that chick was about three seconds away from her hand going somewhere inappropriate, and you looked like you needed a breather from being the meat in that testosterone sandwich.”

I burst out laughing, the tension of the evening finally finding release. “Under that pretty-boy exterior beats the heart of a true gentleman.”

I glanced back at the table one more time. Miles and Dominic were now talking to each other, heads bent together in serious conversation.

Shaking my head and focusing on the game, I lined up my shot, feeling confident as I broke the rack with a satisfying crack that sent balls scattering across the table. Two solids dropped into pockets, making me smile smugly at Carter.

“That’ll be forty dollars when I finish wiping the floor with you, Campbell.”

“Let’s make it interesting.” Carter twirled his cue like a baton-wielding drum major. “Forty bucks and the loser buys breakfast tomorrow.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Breakfast is rather presumptuous, and I thought you said you didn’t know how to play.”

“Did I?” He blinked with the practiced innocence of a child caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “Must have slipped my mind.”

I lined up my next shot, sinking another solid with embarrassing ease. My third shot missed by millimeters. I stepped back, gesturing dramatically to the table. “Your turn, Pinocchio.”

Carter approached the table with a casualness that instantly set off my internal alarm bells. He leaned over, lining up his shot with precise movements that screamed he’d done this a thousand times.

The bastard proceeded to sink three stripes in rapid succession.

“I’m going to kill you,” I muttered, watching in horror as he circled the table like a shark. “And I’ve watched enough true crime to know exactly how to make it look like an accident.”

He sank another ball. “What was that?” He paused as he started to pass me, leaning in so close that his lips brushed my ear. “All I hear is that you’re spending the night with me tonight.”

“You’re a menace.” I playfully shoved him away.

He lined up for his next shot, and I glanced back toward the team’s table in time to see Dominic down the rest of his drink in one long swallow. He stood up abruptly, muttering something to the guys that made a couple of them frown. Without so much as a glance in my direction, he headed for the door, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd like an icebreaker through frozen waters.

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