Cole was giving him the slicing the finger across the throat gesture but Tanner was on a roll now, so no, he wasn’t going to cut it out. “Just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean love’s in the air, so knock it off with the Callie shit and butt the fuck out.”
“Excuse me,” someone said from behind him.
A female someone.
An unbearably familiar female someone.
He turned and faced—yep—Callie.
She was dressed in a pretty skirt and those boots he loved. She smiled without a hint of teeth and gestured that she needed to get through. Behind her were Olivia and Becca, both giving him the hairy eyeball.
Feeling like a first-class jerk, Tanner tried a smile. “Hey.” Shit. He was such an asshole. “You ladies want to join us?”
“No, thank you,” Callie said with utter politeness, even though the underlying tone in her voice suggested that he could fuck himself. Sideways. She started to push past him but he slid a hand to her elbow to pull her back around. She stared down at his fingers on her until he let go.
“Callie,” he said quietly, desperately wishing they didn’t have an audience. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there.”
“I got that,” she said.
“I was trying to explain that we’re just…”
“Nothing?” she asked.
He grimaced. A first-class asshole. “Callie—”
“Gotta go.” She flashed another quick, tight-lipped smile to Cole and Tanner and walked off.
Olivia and Becca each glared at him. Becca moved, snuggled into Sam, and kissed his jaw. “I’ll meet you back at home, ’kay?”
He tipped her face up and gave her a longer kiss, touched his forehead to hers, and nodded.
Wash and repeat for Cole and Olivia.
And then the women were gone.
A flash went off in Tanner’s face and he blinked Lucille into focus.
“Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. “I just wanted to get a picture of the horse’s patoot.” Turning, she smiled very sweetly at Cole and Sam before once again glowering at Tanner. “You.” She didn’t even come up to the middle of his chest, but the way she was looking at him made him feel about two feet shorter than her. She put a bony finger in his face. “I thought you were a smart man. I thought wrong.”
When she was gone, the three of them fell into silence. “Nicely done,” Sam finally said to Tanner.
“You do realize you’re going to be decimated within the hour now, right?” Cole asked. “Whether on Instagram or Twitter or whatever.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Tanner said. He couldn’t think about anything other than the look on Callie’s face.
“I think you do give a shit,” Sam said. “You give a shit about what Callie thinks, and that’s the problem.”
Tanner turned to the dartboard. “Drop it.” Okay, yeah, he’d been too harsh, but other than that, he’d told the truth. Technically he’d done nothing wrong.
Damn it.
So why the hell did he feel like he’d lost his best friend?
Chapter 14
An hour and another round of beer later, Tanner was trying to maintain that he was the injured party, but all he could think about was the expression on Callie’s face when he’d turned and faced her.
On top of that, he’d lost darts two out of three.
Tanner grabbed the darts. “New round. The two losers”—he pointed his darts at the both of them—“have to take Lucille and her gang out on that tour she commissioned for the senior center tomorrow.”
“Shit, man,” Cole said. “Now you’re just being mean.”
Tanner won. They bought another round of beer. He was glad for the win, but the truth was that he’d rather be tossing back a few in the company of someone soft and willing.
And naturally the face that came to mind was one he shouldn’t be thinking about.
Callie.
Which meant that Sam was right, and shit, how Tanner hated that. He’d opened his big, fat mouth and made a mess of things.
Especially since the truth was that he wanted to see her. He’d already had her in his arms. Her kisses had him nearly out of his mind. He couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to have her in his bed, wrapped around him, panting his name.
Okay, he could imagine it. Truth was, he’d been fantasizing about it since he’d gotten his hands on her. In fact, he was thinking about it right now—
“So what happened in the water today?” Sam asked him, refilling everyone’s beer.
“Nothing.”
“That’s not what Troy said.”
Shit. A complete shit day from start to finish. At least he hoped it was nearly finished. He drank some more, stalling for time. But neither Sam nor Cole looked stalled. They were both looking right at him, waiting for an answer. “I got a cramp,” he said. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Troy said you were in a lot of pain and that you couldn’t even walk,” Sam said.
“A cramp,” Tanner repeated. “No one can walk with a cramp in their leg.”
“But you were swimming,” Cole said. “Alone. And we’ve seen you swim. You go miles.”
“So?”
“So, if you hadn’t been close to shore…”
Tanner narrowed his eyes. “I’d have been fine.”
“I’ll swim with you,” Cole said. “Next time.”
“Every day?” Tanner asked, trying not to get pissed off.
“Nope,” Cole said, and clapped Sam on the back. “We’ll switch off.”
Sam looked less than thrilled at this. “I hate swimming with him,” he said. “I’ll take the boat and tail him.”
“I’m fine!” Tanner said. “Jesus.” He pointed to Sam. “I liked it a whole lot better when you were the one we were all worried about.”
“Yeah, but you helped me straighten my shit out,” Sam said calmly.
“What about Cole?” Tanner pointed out. “Only last month he was all sorts of fucked up.”
Cole smiled. “I got over myself.” His smile faded. “Your turn.”
Tanner shook his head and finished his beer. “Whatever, man. I’m fine.”
Sam’s phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket. In the old days, he never answered his phone. But that was B.B. Before Becca. Suddenly the silent, brooding Sam was Mr. Chatty Cathy.
Sam slid his phone away and grinned. “Gotta go.”
Undoubtedly he’d just gotten a booty call from Becca.
“Me too,” Tanner said. He didn’t know where, he just had to move.
“Where you going?” Cole asked.
Tanner narrowed his eyes. “Why, you writing a book?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Not until you tell me why you want to know.”
“You’re so suspicious all the time.”
“With you I have to be.”
“You’ve been to war,” Cole said. “You’ve nearly been killed in a rig fire. What could I possibly dream up that would be worse than either of those two things?”
Good point. “I’m going to walk around and clear my head. Okay with you, Mom?”
“Sure,” Cole said. “I just didn’t want you going after Callie and messing with her head.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Tanner said.
“Not on purpose,” Cole agreed.
“Your concern for her is touching.”
“Actually,” Cole said, “my concern is for you. You gotta get your head screwed on tighter before you go for it with her. Hurry up and get that handled, and the two of you could really have something.”
And with that confusing-as-shit—and wrong—assessment, Cole left.
Tanner said to his back, “I won. I want it on record that I won. I don’t have to take the geriatrics out tomorrow. One of you two assholes has to.”
“Fine,” Cole called over his shoulder.
“Fine.” Satisfied that he wasn’t the only miserable one now, Tanner left on Cole’s he
els and stood in the chilly night air for a moment. He had a nice buzz going but it wasn’t coming close to chasing away the look on Callie’s face.
He’d hurt her. He hated that.
He crossed the street to the pier and stood at the entrance to the arcade, surveying the action.
There was very little.
It was a weeknight and cold as hell. There were a few teenagers huddled together in front of the dart booth and no one else.
Nope, scratch that. There was one more person at the far end, in front of the football-through-the-tire booth.
Callie.
She turned, frowned at him, and then shocked the hell out of him. “Well, hurry up then.”
He craned his neck and looked behind him because surely she wasn’t talking to him.
“Can you do this or not?” she wanted to know, pointing at the game in front of her.
Shoving his bare hands into his pockets, he strode over to her. Toe to toe, he stared down into her stormy eyes, noticing with some grim satisfaction that her breath hitched at his nearness.
“Do what?” he asked.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth and she drew her lower lip in between her teeth. “Um.” She gave herself a visible shake and hoisted the football in her hands. “I’ve spent twenty-five bucks on this stupid game to win a stupid stuffed animal and I’m not leaving without one. Your throwing arm is legendary. Teach me how to throw.”
He blinked but nope, she was still here, looking hauntingly beautiful and, better yet, speaking to his sorry ass. “Show me what you’ve got.”
She wound up and tossed the football. It missed the target by a mile. In fact, it would’ve hit the lanky kid behind the counter if he hadn’t thrown himself to the ground.
The kid got up, retrieved the ball, and handed it back to Callie.
Callie stared down at it. “What am I doing wrong?”
“Other than throwing like a girl?”
Eyes sparking, she thrust the football at him. “You’ve got two shots.”
“Actually,” the kid behind the counter said, “only one more shot.”
Callie glared at him.
The kid lifted his hands. “Hey, lady, I don’t make the rules.” He gave Tanner a good-luck look and backed away.
Tanner weighed the football in his hands. “I haven’t thrown in a long time.”
“I’m not leaving here without a stuffed animal, Tanner.”
“Why don’t you just buy it?” he asked.
“That’s not the point!” she said, irritated. “I have to win it.” She paused and then admitted, “And plus I’ve spent twenty-five bucks already. If I lose this round, I have to go back to my place for more money.”
“Okay, I’ll buy it for you.”
This produced an icy glare that nearly froze his nuts off. “Don’t you dare,” she said. “You’re a football star. You have a record a mile long. Haven’t you seen the Nike commercials? Just do it.”
He stared at her. “Have you been drinking?”
“Not yet.”
He stared at her some more.
“I know,” she said. “I’m a nut.”
“A bossy nut,” he agreed. “But a beautiful, bossy nut.”
She rolled her eyes. “Hello, I run a bridal empire. Bossiness is a required trait. Throw the damn ball, Tanner. I want the purple unicorn. But you should know I’m still not speaking to you.”
“Fair enough.” He looked at the ugly purple unicorn sitting on the shelf with about fifty other ugly rainbow-colored unicorns but all he really saw was Callie’s expression earlier. The hurt, the vulnerability. She was hiding it now, but it was still there just beneath the surface and he wanted to be the one to make it go away. “I’ve had a few drinks,” he said.
She stared at him and then tried to grab the football back. “Fine, give it to me if you don’t think you can do it.”
“I can do it,” he said. “Of course I can do it.” He really hoped that was true.
“Well, then.” She slapped the football against his chest and stepped back, gesturing impatiently with her hand for him to go ahead.
“I will,” he said, stepping closer. After he apologized. “Listen, about before at the bar—”
“Just the purple unicorn, please,” she said stiffly.
“It’s just that you came in at the tail end of a conversation that—”
“I know,” she said. “Whatever. Forget it.”
He wished he could. “Callie, I’m trying to say I’m sor—”
“Throw the damn ball, Riggs, or give it back.”
He threw the ball.
And missed.
The kid sucked in a breath of shock. “Dude,” he said, sounding hugely disappointed.
Not Callie. She tossed up her hands, muttered something about men not being worth jack shit, and started to walk off.
God damn it. Tanner grabbed her wrist and held tight with one hand while he shoved the other into his pocket, fishing for money. He came out with a five and slapped it on the counter.
“Never mind,” Callie said.
Hell no. “Wait,” he said, and gestured for the kid to bring him the football. When he did, Tanner bounced it in his hands a moment, familiarizing himself with the feel and weight of it after all this time.
“Seriously,” Callie said. “This isn’t necessary—”
He silenced her with a look and threw the ball. If it didn’t make it through the tire, he was going to have to shoot himself.
Luckily, the ball sailed right through.
More than a little relieved, he started to turn to Callie, only to let out an oomph as something crashed into him.
Callie throwing herself at him.
“Thank you!” Cupping his jaw, she brought his face down and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” She kissed his other cheek. “Now I don’t have to kill the kid who kept selling me tickets.”
“Hey,” the kid said.
“Just kidding,” she told him.
He didn’t look mollified. “I’m closing now.”
“My prize first,” she said.