Page 29 of Special Agent Murphy

Buddy, wake up… it ain’t happening.

Lord almighty, some days were better if one didn’t get out of bed. Where the thought came from, he had no idea, but it was a sentiment he fully agreed with.

In minutes, after some discussion he ignored, her friend set up the rack, and Kayti stepped forward to break. Leaning over to take the shot, Murphy’s inner cussing started a burn low in his stomach.

Sweet Jesus!The lady had an ass on her that drew every eye in the vicinity. Encased in tight jeans only sensationalized it. No wonder so many males had been watching their earlier games. Instincts to throw her jacket at her with instructions to use the bloody thing had to be stomped on. He knew it. But he didn’t have to like it.

Soon, the game kept every person motionless, it was that close. Murphy came up for the final shot, and it was a doozie. He figured Kayti had set him up, and so did her partner. The chick was pissed. He didn’t blame her. But he had a partner too and a couple hundred bucks rode on the outcome.

Sinking the black was a tough one, but he’d made it before. The angle just slightly off. Enough for him to fake a loss. He pointed to the left-side pocket. Then sidled up to the table, bent down to see the best shot, and saw her waiting next to her partner. She bit her lip and caught his eye. They stared across the table at each other for seconds before he stood and sauntered over near her to take the shot.

Seconds later, his partner jumped, pumping his hand in glee. Kayti’s grin flashed, and then quickly disappeared. She offered to buy the pissed-off chick a drink. He could tell she’d schmoozed her enough to see the other shrug and accept the loss.

He stepped over to hang up his cue, his partner still slapping his back when he saw Alex. He’d been one of the watchers.

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