Chapter 18

"One more thing." Bard crossed the yard, grabbed the rusted bucket and plopped it back two feet.

Zeke rumbled a laugh.

Boe snorted. "Alright by me."

I nodded, but the way he'd positioned it took it out from directly under the nearest tiki torch. The glow still cast against it, enough to know where it was, but it would definitely be harder.

I shook my head. It didn't matter. I could do this. Fuck him. Fuck this bet. I wanted that tattoo gun, and I needed that bedroom.

Boe reached down and gathered his five caps, and his eyes narrowed into slits as he aimed. He paused, readjusting his fingers against the edge, aimed again, and when he finally decided to let it fly... it landed in the same spot the bucket had sat before.

Boe cursed under his breath then glared at Bard. "You've been watching me?"

I stared between the two, taken off guard by the question. All I knew was Zeke was going ape shit behind me, Boe looked pissed off, and Bard... his lip twitched.

"What do you mean?" I asked Boe, feeling a new wave of dread as the odds seemed to have narrowed down and not in the best of ways.

Boe's eyes shifted from Bard to me, and he huffed. "He's been watching me practice."

Bard spoke up. "He never moved the bucket."

The pieces clicked together, and I turned wide eyes onto Bard. That observant mother fucker...

As if he'd read my mind, his lip twitched again.

Boe, with obvious annoyance, turned back to the task at hand... and missed again, and again, each accompanied by a curse louder than the last, until he finally managed to hit the edge, then sunk one.

One.

I have to do this.

Bard held a hand out to Boe, and to my surprise, Boe took it. They shook hands in a manly, grippy sort of way. "I underestimated you," he grumbled as he looked over with a wry smile.

I followed his gaze. Zeke might as well have been a cat that just ate all the goldfish.

Boe shook his head. "I guess I forgot who his uncle was. Sneaky fuckers."

Zeke's smile widened. "It's not sneaky, it's smart."

"Too smart," I said. I wouldn't have thought of it. Not in a million years. But I wasn't Boe. I was a grown woman with a history. I'd survived prison, and those bitches in there were the queens of sneaky and conniving.

Bard motioned to the bucket beside me. "It's your turn, Tequila."

I turned away from him and grabbed my caps from the bottom. Don't look at him. I positioned my first cap and took aim. It sailed like a frisbee and landed with nothing more than a clink inside its destination.

Zeke let out a whoop for me, and Scarlet followed suit with a dry, "Whoo hoo."

I grinned and aimed the next. It sailed like the last, and the one after did the same. I managed to sink four of them, with only one left in my hand, when I made my crucial error.

I looked at him. I met those probing eyes, and what I found there flooded my chest with that stupid warmth. It hit me so hard, my stomach flipped. My heart skipped.

Bard didn't look like a man competing. His expression was soft, his eyes light. He looked at me like he felt proud, like he wanted me, but not in a physical way. He looked at me the way every woman wanted a man to look at her.

In a frantic move, I turned away and took aim, but he'd stolen my breath and rattled my cage. My hand shook, not much but just enough to throw me off. I flicked the cap and it sailed... just shy of its target.

Disappointed groans echoed the air behind me, and my shoulders slumped.

No.

I turned to look at him, and his expression was the same. Unreadable to any random eye, but practically screaming his victory at me.

Bard stepped around me, too close, and a prickle of awareness raised the small hairs on my arms and locked my lungs.

He gathered up his five and stood. "My turn."

Bard didn't take the amount of time Boe and I had. He didn't aim. He simply lifted his hand and shot. One, sink. Two, sink. Three, sink. Like rapid fire.

Then his hand shifted. Up a fraction of an inch, almost unnoticeable, and the last two hit the RV with the same speed.

I stared at him.

"There goes my bed," he said, voice low and smooth.

He did it on purpose. My mind raced as my heart did the same. He let me win. I couldn't respond. My stomach went from flipping to simply trying to eat itself, and my heart felt ready to rip away from my chest and leave me for this man.

He'd planned it from the beginning.

Zeke stepped up to his nephews side and clasped his shoulder. "Good job, boy," he murmured. His eyes met mine, dancing and holding a hint of their own warmth.

I shook my head. "I'm tired." My voice came out like a ghost, quiet and detached. Stunned. I turned away without another word and walked inside the motorhome.

Bard followed.

"You want one last drink?" he asked as the door shut behind him.

I shook my head again.

He paused. "Alright. Just let me grab a couple things out of the room." He brushed against me as he passed, but I couldn't say it was intentional with his massive frame in such a small space.

I followed him. What he'd just done had been the sweetest thing a guy had ever done for me. It wasn't like the words Drake murmured when the night's had still been good. It wasn't some gift bought at a store full of meaningless things.

He'd given me his room.

So I could feel safe.

I stood inside the last doorway and watched as he bundled clothes out of a shelf on the wall. The bed dominated the whole space, with barely an inch on either side, and from what I could tell, the shelf was the only storage to be had. But it had a door that opened outwards, and a glance down at the knob revealed it did indeed lock.

Bard turned and looked down at me. "I'm all set," he said.

I was blocking him.

I didn't move. "You lost on purpose."

His eyes scanned my face, once again, hairline to temple, to jaw. "Did I?"

"You could have made those shots."

He grinned. "I could have." His head tilted. "But what would that have done? I stepped in because I didn't want Boe putting his hands on you." His eyes sharpened, just a hair. "But if it's me you're going to kiss, I want it to be because you want to. I want to earn it."

My traitorous lips tried to curve across my face, but I kept them still. "I thought I said no more sweet talk."

He smiled, blasting me full on with those perfect, pearly whites. He was hands down swoon-worthy in his natural state, but when he smiled...

"I'm just being honest, Tequila."

I swooned. Damn him. I stared up at his perfect face. He'd given me his room, knowing that damn bunk was too short for him. He'd be sleeping like an infant, all scrunched up. He'd done it for me.

Shit.

I heaved a sigh. "Come here."

Bard's smile dulled, eyes searching.

I grabbed his shirt and pulled him. The clothes fell to the floor and scattered. I'd caught him by total surprise. His brows lifted as I released his shirt and cupped his neck.

Jesus. It's like climbing a tree.

I tiptoed the final inch and pressed my lips to his.

My heart burst. His mouth was warm and soft, the perfect size. I'd meant to give him a peck, but the moment I felt his lips against mine, I didn't want to stop. Not just yet.

Bard let me kiss him, at first frozen, but when my tongue caressed his bottom lip, large arms closed around me, and the innocence disappeared.

A low rumble left his chest as he deepened the kiss, devouring. Sinful and hot and so much... more.

I hummed against his mouth, and my hands trailed to his shoulders, then down his arms, his chest. God, he was perfect.

He pulled away, breathing hard, jaw tight. "Alright." He turned, still holding me, and it was then I realized my feet no longer touched the ground. Bard lowered me to the bed and stood back away from it. "Goodnight, Tequila."

Goodnight.

I didn't want that. I wanted a good night, not a... goodnight.

Bard gathered his clothes from the floor, motions stiff. "I'll see you in the morning." That was it.

He walked away.

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