thing Dante delayed his revenge on Wes, because his buddy turned out to be a hell of a bowler. Between himself, Wes, and Gladys, a playful competition developed, but they cheered each other on as much as they jeered each other.
Cheri and Tanyalee were obviously out of practice, but as the game progressed they warmed up. Soon Dante was smiling as Tanyalee pranced back from the foul line, visibly delighted with her second spare in a row.
As she approached, he held up his palm in congratulations. She delivered a playful high five, but Dante let his hand close over her smaller one. Their fingers entwined for a moment before they slid apart. Tanyalee looked down at the floor, an expression of shy pleasure on her pretty face.
Damn, she was cute when she wasn’t in her prissy mode. Well, actually, that was kind of cute, too. Just like when she was putting on the crazy, or the crazy-sexy, or the crazy-fun. And even when she was talking a blue streak about nothing at all.
“You got it bad,” Westley muttered as he went up for his turn.
Dante felt O’Connor’s eyes burning two beady holes in the back of his SUGAR & STRIKES T-shirt. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder because he already knew what her issue was: Tanyalee was a felon.
When he risked a glance a few moments later, he was in for a surprise. O’Connor wasn’t the one giving him the hairy eyeball, and the message had nothing to do with DEA policy. It was Garland Newberry, the old newspaperman, and he had his head tilted slightly to one side, measuring Dante with great attention to detail. Dante found himself straightening his spine in response.
As it turned out, Kelly was otherwise occupied, standing up with a team shirt stretched over her usual tailored blouse, cheering on Tater Wayne as he took his turn. “Way to go, Thomas, way to go!”
When Dante glanced Garland’s way again, his attention had been diverted by Candy Carmichael, now plying him with something white and chunky, cut into squares. Dante knew that Tanyalee was worried about her grandfather’s diabetes. Should he rat the old guy out?
He felt a touch on his arm. “Don’t worry.” It was Tanyalee’s sister, Cheri. “He only thinks he’s cheating with Candy’s divinity. Someday soon we’re going to let him in on the secret—she’s been testing her sugar-free recipes on him for months.” Cheri gave his arm another pat and looked up at him with a sweet smile. “But it’s nice of you to be concerned.”
Kelly let out another yell and clapped harder. “That’s okay, Thomas! You’ll get it next time!”
Tater wasn’t much of a bowler. He was a little better than Turner and Fern, but not by a lot. He was, however, one of the friendliest and most unassuming millionaires Dante had ever met.
From what Tanyalee had said, Thomas Wayne began working hard-labor jobs in middle school to help support his widowed mother. He’d never had the time or money to spend on leisure activities that didn’t involve bringing home venison or fish. It seemed that O’Connor had finally caught herself a decent man. Dante hoped she wouldn’t be throwing him back anytime soon.
Tater scored eight pins for the frame, but by the claps and pats on the back he received—and his own bashful smile of pride—some might have thought he had the best score of the night.
Maryvelle Wilcox obviously did.
“Well, good for you, Tater!” Maryvelle sauntered right into the semicircle haven of lanes 7 and 8, a clear invasion of team territory. She’d brought two Bowl of Kindness teammates for backup.
Team Sugar & Strikes was uncharacteristically quiet.
“Tater Wayne, my, my, my.” Maryvelle walked right up and tucked her arm into his. “You should come over to the Bowl of Kindess crowd!”
“Hello, Maryvelle.” Tater extracted his arm with admirable dignity. “You should probably ask someone else to join your team. I’m not a good bowler t’all.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dante saw O’Connor stand up. Oh, hell. This chick had better watch her step.
“No,” Maryvelle said sweetly. “We’ve got all the team members we need. I just thought you might like to make some new friends, since you can afford to associate with a higher class of people these days.”
Silence.
Maryvelle switched her attention to Tanyalee, who stood with Cheri behind Viv’s seat at the scoring table. Maryvelle’s venomous smirk locked onto Tanyalee. “There’s no need to associate with felons, Tater.” Her friends laughed.
Dante saw Tanyalee stiffen. He