To the Moon and Back - Melissa Brayden Page 0,20

work of three-fourths of the table.

Carly blinked as Lauren sank another, like the secret pro she apparently was. “What in hell?”

Lauren straightened and admired the results of her own shot before raising her gaze to Carly. “Wow. It turns out I’m a quick study.”

Trip laughed. He, of course, would know all about Lauren’s prowess with a cue. “I think the shark just got out-sharked.” Lauren shrugged at Carly and touched her glass to Trip’s in reverence. Carly spent the next few moments with her jaw on the floor as Lauren took them to school.

The end result? Carly had to buy Lauren another drink. Not that awful a prospect. When she delivered it, she caught the soft scent of her perfume. Hints of vanilla and maybe lavender. Subtle, but very effective.

“I’d love a rematch,” Carly said. “Now that I know who I’m dealing with, I’ll be sure to focus fully.”

“Oh, you weren’t before?” Lauren asked in a teasing voice. “Because it looked like you were trying extra hard. It was sweet.”

The drinks were working. Lauren had relaxed, stepped away from her always-put-together demeanor, and was just…a person. A really witty one, too. It had Carly on a high, and she wanted to soak up every minute until the guard went back up again. What was it about Lauren that had her all hot, bothered, intrigued, and willing to take her clothes off? Part of the fun was not knowing.

“If you don’t want to go again, we don’t have to,” Carly said with a grin. She turned to TJ. “We’ll just chalk it up to a fluke.” He nodded and touched his longneck to hers. “Everyone gets lucky once in a blue moon.”

Lauren also turned to TJ. “Rack ’em.”

And it was on.

As “Cherry Pie” pulsed over the speakers, Lauren studied the table from one angle, then another, before sinking three balls in a row. Carly and TJ rallied, Trip barely made a difference, but it was Lauren who once again owned the table. While Carly had paid more attention to her own shots this go-round, thought them through, and taken her time, that hadn’t been the reason she’d asked for a second round. No, she’d wanted to watch Lauren, who was clearly in her element. She was something to behold, too. Her eyes shone bright when she spotted her shot and then darkened as she concentrated. Her lips, shiny with gloss, parted slightly just before she delivered her shot, and sigh, the cleavage she glimpsed each and every time Lauren leaned over the table… Do not get me started. As competitive as she was, she’d agree to lose a thousand times over to have that multifaceted sense-inspiring experience again and again.

“So, what’s your secret?” she asked Lauren after the second trouncing. “Do you have a secret pool hall below the theater that you sneak away to and practice through the night?”

Lauren met her gaze with a smug smile. “If I told you my secret, then you wouldn’t sit up and think all night about what it could be.” She took a delicate sip from her martini that did something wonderfully uncomfortable to Carly’s midsection. The skin of Lauren’s shoulder called out to her, and she noticed how ridiculously smooth it was. She wanted to run her forefinger across the curve and follow up with her tongue. Yeah, it was that kind of night.

“Then the least you can do is teach me how to break like you do.”

Lauren straightened. “I can help if you want.”

Carly reached behind Lauren and grabbed a cue, inhaling the vanilla lavender scent once again. That perfume flirted with her all on its own. Who’d invented this stuff? She met Lauren’s gaze. “Oh, I want.”

Lauren followed her to an empty table and racked the balls. “Secret number one. Make sure the rack is tight.” Carly blinked and held her tongue, but the insinuation was not lost on Lauren, who blushed. She made a rewind gesture. “Taking that back. Just heard how that sounds.”

“You don’t have to on my account,” Carly said with a playful wink and joined Lauren on her side of the table. She made it a point to lose the shenanigans for the rest of her lesson. “What’s step one?”

“You want to make sure the cue ball remains in the center of the table.” She placed it on the felt and pointed to the corner pocket. “If it breaks off and bounces back over here? You’re in bad shape.”

“And I won’t be able to clean the table

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