Page 39 of Bad Boy Crush
“Because I gave you a good-luck kiss,” Elli pointed out.
“After I kissed Lourdes, I couldn’t hit the fucking board,” Ant deadpanned.
“You should try your luck again.” She was done being careful. She’d been so damn careful since her divorce. Too damn careful.
“You think so?” A smile curled Ant’s lip.
“Oh, I know so.”
“Need any pointers?” Brady offered.
“I think he can handle himself.” Elliott dragged Brady away. “I want a gyro and you’re buying.”
“Catch up with you guys later.” Brady said as they strolled away.
“I guess we’ll be fielding that sort of attention for a while.” Ant lifted their joined hands. “This is an upset to the norm.”
“Maybe we’re due an upset.”
“Maybe we are.”
The target and axes at the booth were miniaturized versions of the real thing. The axes were hatchets and the targets were smaller, eye-level, and a hell of a lot closer than the ones lining the woods at Pate Mansion.
“Here’s your chance to redeem yourself,” she said as he purchased tickets for both of them.
“It’s not as easy as it looks.”
“You each have a practice throw, and then three axes,” the man running the booth informed them. He reviewed a few basic safety measures, showed Lou where to hold the handle, and told her to go for it.
Her practice throw hit the bullseye, and she yipped with excitement. “How awesome am I!” She threw her arms around Ant’s neck before overthinking it. He hugged her, his hand on her back. With his mouth hovering inches over hers, it was impossible not to think about kissing him. True to his word, he didn’t make a move.
“Step aside and let me see if I can salvage my reputation.” The rumble of his voice moved through her body on its own, ticking each of her ribs on its way to her stomach. She straightened her clothes and fussed with her hair, an attempt to shake off the tingles of awareness. When had he become so damned distracting?
Ant’s practice throw landed just outside the bullseye. He sent her a glance she assumed meant to be derisive but was instead sexy as hell. The man running the booth handed her three hatchets.
Pulling her arm back like he’d shown her, she focused on the red circle in the middle of the wooden board and threw. Thwack! She landed it in one of the larger, outer circles. She licked her lips, rolled her shoulders, and tried again. Thwack! The axe landed even farther away from the bullseye than before. A few onlookers voiced their disappointment at the miss.
She closed one eye. She could do this. As she raised the final axe, Ant gripped her forearm from behind, his big body covering hers. “Take a long, slow breath.”
His other hand slid up her arm as he breathed with her. Electric sparks danced on the surface of her skin as heat built between their bodies. She wasn’t sure this was going to help her concentrate on the bullseye.
“Now, do what you did the first time,” he said into her ear. “Before you knew there was no other option.” She lost his heat a moment later, shut her eyes, and tried to ignore the people around her. She’d done harder things than this. She’d been under more pressure too. Once she was literally stranded at an airport in Uruguay after a man stole her taxi.
She opened her eyes, pulled her arm back, and threw the axe. It hit the center, just like the first time.
“Bullseye!” the man running the booth said.
“Nice fucking work.” Ant gave her a hug. When he pulled away, his smiling mouth lingered over hers for a tantalizing second. Then he let her go, his fingers brushing her waist, and took his space in front of the booth.
He took his own advice and pulled in a steady breath through his pursed lips. Lips she wanted to kiss again and again and not come up for air for a very long time.
One after the other, he threw the axes. Three bullseyes in a row. The gathering crowd around them went wild.
“Three for three! You can choose a prize, sir.” The man behind the booth gestured to rows of colorful stuffed prizes hanging overhead. Each one was about three feet tall.
“Which one do you want?” Ant asked her.
It seemed silly to accept but insulting not to. “The bear.”