Page 110 of Windlass

Angie’s ball, which was all red, seemed closest. She aimed, swung, and missed Angie’s ball entirely, colliding into Morgan’s—and pushing her through the next hoop.

“Thankyou,” said Morgan.

“Make my sacrifice count,” she replied.

Angie, up next, did something tricky with her ball that knocked Stevie’s several yards away from anything remotely resembling a wicket.

“You—”

“Me?” Angie feigned surprise but did not quite meet Stevie’s eyes. She’d been like that the whole game: a little shy almost, smiling at Stevie in a way she couldn’t place and ducking her gaze.

“Yes,you. How dare you.”

“Well, see, I held the mallet like this—” She bent over unnecessarily suggestively, which, even though it was clearly a joke, had the effects Angie had no doubt intended.

“Collusion.”

“No worse than you. Hey—!”

Stormy’s next shot sent Angie’s ball even farther away than Stevie’s. Stevie, who prided herself on sportsmanship, cackled.

“How does it feel?” she asked Angie as they both wandered over to their balls, which were closer to each other’s than to anyone else’s.

“Like I’ve been betrayed.” Angie cut her eyes at Stormy. “That was totally intentional.”

“Like your shot wasn’t?” Stevie paused in the shade of a large pine.

“Well, yes.” Angie abandoned her ball to come stand by Stevie and watch the others. Their hips brushed. Stevie’s hand dropped to Angie’s waist before she could catch herself, but when she went to pull her hand away, Angie caught it. “Also, they know.”

“They know?”

“About us.”

Her chest expanded, then shrank, undergoing several pressure changes at once. She searched Angie’s face. She didn’t seem upset. If anything, she seemed calm even if she still struggled to hold Stevie’s eye.

Wasthatwhy she was struggling to hold eye contact? Was this the moment where Angie pulled away from her? It was too unbearable to contemplate. Her only course of action was to pretend she wasn’t breaking up inside like the Antarctic ice shelves.

“And, um, how do we feel about that?” Stevie asked.

“Like maybe I wasn’t as quiet as I thought I was last night.” Angie dug her thumbnail into Stevie’s palm as she spoke, dragging it in a slow sensuous circle and leaning into Stevie as she did so. “But okay, I think. Last night was worth it.”

Lust, that traitorous bitch, hit Stevie hard at the memory of the sounds Angie had muffled the night before, and her hand tightened on Angie’s. Before she could stop herself in the interest of treating the situation delicately, she murmured, “You were so fucking hot.”

Angie’s lips quirked. “Stormy left that part out.”

Ah.

“I mean, yes, I feel bad that Stormy heard us, ew for her, but god, Ange . . .”

“Oh?” Angie glanced at her, the slight curve of her lips widening into a wicked smile that did more for Stevie than even the memory of the night before. “Say more.”

This woman would be the death of her. She tried and failed to focus on the important conversation Angie had successfully derailed. It seemed unlikely Angie would be coming on to her like this if she was about to run, but then again, she could be planning to put the “hit” into hit and run.

“Are you teasing me right now?” Stevie asked, fear warring with desire.

“You tell me. Is it working?”

Stevie opened her mouth to lie, briefly determined to haul the conversation back as Angie’s eyes dropped to her mouth. Angie bit her own lower lip, and the indentation of teeth in that flushed, lush skin nudged the lie off a cliff.

---