Cuffs - Cara Lockwood Page 0,23

in. Then the three. Next came the six. Now all he had left was the eight ball. It was a rough shot, a tough angle.

“Eight ball, corner pocket.” He nodded toward the edge of the table.

“The side pocket would be easier,” Mags pointed out. “Unless you just want to show off.” She grinned, leaning up against the wall of the bar, arms crossed across her chest.

Gael looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Nah,” he said. “I just like things the hard way.” He hit the cue ball without even looking at it, sinking the eight ball in the corner as if it was meant to be there. Mags laughed, pushing herself off the wall and giving Gael a slow clap.

“I’m impressed,” she said. “And it’s not easy to impress me.” Mags was moving closer to him, as if there was an invisible force pushing her there, a fishing line between her and Gael. Every time Gael’s smile grew bigger, the line grew more taut. Reeling her in. Slowly but surely. She was no different than the balls on the pool table. Rolling to him, bending to his will.

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

“I was a broke college student,” he said. “I had to earn drinking money somehow.” He shrugged.

“I can believe it. Is that how you made enough money to buy custom-made suits?” She nodded at his wool pants.

“No. That came from my parents’ life insurance policy. And a few lucky investments.”

She stared at him a beat. “Somehow, I don’t believe it was all luck.” Not with him. It was will, not luck.

Gael leaned the pool cue against the rack behind Mags. He brushed her arm as he went, and she got a nose full of him: something spicy. Something sweet. Something...decidedly man. Her whole body felt on high alert. Tense, ready, waiting. She wanted to do what he wanted, wanted him to do what he pleased.

He paused, releasing the cue, his eyes meeting hers. A question was in them, a question her body had already answered. Her heart thudded in her chest, the blood rushing through her ears like a wild river. She felt her lips part and watched as he seemed to grow closer. She knew it was folly to make out with him in this bar, mere feet from Clint and with Angus at the door. If she’d been in her right mind, she would’ve stepped away from him. But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Something in her blood told her this man was made for her, meant for her, that she couldn’t turn away from this. He was too strong to resist, too solid to ignore. Gael’s lips were so close now, and all she wanted was to feel them again on her own, to meet his tongue with hers, to go to a place where both their minds would think of nothing but pure need. She closed her eyes, anticipating the feel of his lips on hers, but suddenly, she felt nothing but cold air. He’d withdrawn. Her eyes fluttered open, surprised to see Clint standing there. Holding a new beer.

He thumbed back to the ladies in fishnets at the bar. “They bought you another round.”

Mags frowned at them, but they weren’t looking at her. “None for me?” she asked.

Clint ignored her as he slid the drink over to Gael. He took it and hesitated. “Would you like it? You can have it,” he offered.

She shook her head. “No, they want to see you drink it.”

Gael took it and raised the glass to the women at the bar before he took a swig. Mags felt her throat tighten as she glared at the women. Maybe she would get into a fight, after all.

Clint, however, was still staring at Gael.

“You up for a game?” Clint asked, nostrils flaring.

“You’re working,” Mags said, feeling suddenly annoyed by his presence. Clint was the one who got cuffed and yet now he was being territorial? He had no right. None.

“I’m on break,” Clint said, nodding toward the bar. Another bartender, a new guy that she’d only seen once before, was pouring beer. The fishnets-and-torn-jeans ladies were talking to him now. Clint’s lips curved upward, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Mags told herself that there was no way Clint would start a fight in his own bar. But, still, part of her worried. Clint had a temper sometimes.

“Sure.” Gael didn’t move. He was sending the signal he wouldn’t be scared off. Mags almost rolled her eyes. She wasn’t anybody’s territory. Mags