“Is this spot taken?”
Brooke turned, half of a bright red crawfish in each hand. For a split second, Riley thought she might be dismissed. Brooke had eased up on picking fights with her, but they still felt a long way from being friends. But then a hint of a smile crossed Brooke’s lips. “All yours.”
She set down her beer and took in the spread. She’d been nervous about a New Orleans crawfish boil. Given the city’s versions of gumbo and jambalaya, she half expected some kind of fancy sauce or other Creole riff, but no. This looked how a crawfish boil should, crawfish and potatoes and corn, steaming hot and speckled with spice, all dumped onto a long table covered with newspaper. It reminded her of home. “So, is this a Bruisers tradition?”
Brooke’s smile grew, reaching all the way to her eyes. “It is. Not always a crawfish boil but something mid-season. Usually after school is out.”
Her team had been close, but they never did anything like this. “It’s nice.”
“After-parties are great, but this feels more like family.”
It did. Being at someone’s house, music pouring out of a speaker in the window, the sun just starting to set. It reminded her of parties at her aunt and uncle’s house out in Breaux Bridge when she was little, ones that lasted well into the night and usually ended with her and Annie in sleeping bags on her cousin’s bedroom floor. “Yeah.”
Brooke pulled a crawfish tail from its shell and tossed the shell in the bucket. “Speaking of family, how are things with your sister?”
For some reason, it surprised her that Brooke remembered she had a sister. It shouldn’t, since she’d put it out there as her reason for moving. Maybe it wasn’t the remembering so much as the asking. The question felt more than polite. It felt personal. “She’s good. And my niece and nephew are a riot.” She hesitated for a moment, weighing whether to continue. “I’m living with them. My sister got divorced a few months ago, and her ex pretty much dropped off the face of the planet.”
“Oh.” Brooke frowned. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”
Riley shrugged. “Don’t be. He was kind of an asshole. She was already doing all the parenting on top of working full time.”
“Sounds like she’s better off with you.”
“It’s a pretty low bar, but thanks. She could probably manage on her own. She’s amazing. But I hated the idea of her doing it alone.” And since she had no idea if she’d ever have kids of her own, living two hours away from Lucas and Grace while they grew up didn’t sit well.
“And your parents? Are they not in the picture?” Brooke looked at Riley and shook her head. “I’m sorry; that’s really personal. You don’t have to answer.”
Riley smiled, both at Brooke’s newfound interest in her life as well as the flash of embarrassment. “No apology needed. My father passed away. My mother means well but isn’t really the nurturing type.”
Brooke nodded, although Riley couldn’t tell if it was from personal resonance or a more general empathy. “Yeah.”
“What about you?” she asked, hoping to change the subject. As much as she liked connecting with Brooke, the topic of her family made her oddly self-conscious.
Brooke gave her a funny look. “What? Am I the nurturing type?”
Since she actually didn’t have a specific question or direction in mind, she shrugged. “That. Or you could talk about your parents. Nieces and nephews. I’m pretty flexible.”
Brooke smirked. “So, you’re more uncomfortable than curious.”
Being caught in such a weak diversion should have bothered her, but it didn’t. “Maybe. Indulge me anyway?”
Brooke seemed to consider for a moment, angling her head and looking up at the sky. “My family is very boring but in a good, reliable sort of way. I’m an only child, and my parents pine for grandchildren. They try not to make me feel bad about it.”
“But you do anyway?” Changing the subject might have been her original intent, but genuine curiosity took over.
Brooke peeled and ate a crawfish, then took a sip of her beer. Riley wouldn’t have pegged her for moments of hesitation. Or sensitivity, to be honest. But the conversations with both Annie and Cassie echoed in her mind. Maybe they’d been right.
After a long moment, Brooke nodded. “Something like that.”
She might not share the experience of wrestling with parental expectations, but she could appreciate that family was complicated. And disappointing people you cared about sucked. “Do you plan to give in one day?”
“Give in?”
“To grandkids.” For reasons Riley couldn’t explain, she really wanted to know the answer.
Brooke sighed. “Eventually, I imagine.”
She couldn’t tell if Brooke’s tone was wistful or resigned. “That bad, huh?”
Brooke laughed. “Not the kids part. It’s more the finding the love of my life part. That feels incredibly daunting.”
It was impossible to know if Brooke’s frankness had to do with the laid-back vibe of the party or how many beers she’d had. Or maybe she’d finally decided to relax and give Riley a break. She kind of wanted to know, but the warming up felt much more important than the reason, and she didn’t want to break the magic of it by asking questions. “I can’t disagree with you there.”
Brooke gave her a lopsided grin. “Look at us, agreeing on something.”
Riley picked up her beer and tapped it lightly to Brooke’s. “I’ll drink to that.”
* * *
After sharing the table with Riley, Brooke let herself get pulled into a conversation with Hits’s sister about putting her house on the market. Not because she was having a hard time being nice to Riley but because she wasn’t. She set up an appointment with Melanie for the next week, then went out of her way to steer clear of Riley. It worked for a while, but then she had another drink and apparently let her guard down and found herself under the carport with Riley and two of her teammates’ husbands.
They talked hurricane season and LSU football, who had a new boat and who sold his because his daughter’s gymnastics were going to the next level. It wasn’t a conversation she’d normally have, but it was kind of fascinating. As was Riley’s complete ease with people she’d never met. Since she didn’t have the same sort of stake—in the people or the topic—she was able to sit back and observe. Observe and, if she was honest, enjoy.
She drained her drink to have an excuse to leave the conversation. At the makeshift bar, she added ice to her cup, then filled it with Crown and a splash of Sprite. She so rarely had more than one; it was nice to let go a little. Not think about Riley and where they stood and what she was supposed to do about it.
Instead of returning to the carport, she stepped inside the game room at the back of the house. The old air-conditioner in the window chugged away, doing its best to keep the space cool despite the constant opening and closing of the back door. She watched Cali’s kids play Mary’s in a pretty epic foosball battle. It proved oddly hypnotizing.
Her brain took on the soft edges of a hair too much to drink. She wasn’t drunk, really. Buzzed. Relaxed. When was the last time she’d done that? Too long ago. It was kind of nice, actually, especially when the company was so good.
Including Riley.
When the hell had that happened? She’d been so focused on trying to figure Riley out, understand what it all meant. Now, with her edges soft and Riley not trying to run the show, figuring it out didn’t seem quite so important. Maybe she could just relax already and stop thinking and worrying for two whole seconds. Of course, there was still the matter of Riley looking sexy as fuck. That remained a problem.
“Can I interest you in a friendly game?”
She hadn’t noticed Riley come up behind her, but there was no mistaking her voice. The lilt that was more Cajun than New Orleans, the velvety smoothness she’d imagined against her ear more than once. She turned slowly and found Riley regarding her with curiosity. Curiosity and maybe something else. Desire? Was that possible?
She glanced around the room for a game not in use. “Darts?”
“Yeah.” Riley’s voice was like whiskey laced with honey.
“Sure.” Brooke pushed herself off the railing she’d been leaning against.
Riley stepped to the side so she could go first. It was one of those old-fashioned sort of moves that kind of bugged her when men did it. But with a woman, a butch woman no less, well, that was another matter entirely. She walked up to the board and pulled out the darts. She held both hands toward Riley. “Pick your color.”
“I’ll take yellow.”
When she took the darts from Brooke, their hands brushed. Electricity tingled its way up her arm and sent a ripple of pleasure through her. Far more intense than the contact warranted. Maybe she was drunker than she thought. Brooke gestured toward the board. “After you.”
“Oh, no. I insist.”
Her words seemed to carry meaning beyond the game, but Brooke couldn’t be sure. Probably better not to try. She stepped to the line and took her aim. The dart lodged in the cork but barely. Shit. She was about to embarrass herself. She took a deep breath and told herself to focus. The next two fared better and left her with an eleven and a fifteen. Nothing to write home about, but enough.
“Not bad.”
She reclaimed her darts and noted the score on the chalkboard. “You don’t have to humor me.”
“I’m not. That’s a very respectable start.”
Brooke’s thoughts were anything but respectable, but no one had to know that but her. “You’re about to hustle me, aren’t you?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” Riley took the spot Brooke had vacated and proceeded to hit a bull’s-eye, an eighteen, and a twenty.
“You were saying?”
Riley lifted both hands. “Luck, I swear. I’m not that good.”
It turned out she wasn’t completely lying. Riley won in the end, but the game took forever to finish. Weirdly, Brooke didn’t mind the loss or the time spent in Riley’s company.
“Can I offer you a ride home?”
“Uh.” She’d planned to bum one off Hits, but she technically lived in the opposite direction.
“I mean, I don’t want to be the one to tell you that you shouldn’t drive home, but—”
“Oh, no. I know I shouldn’t drive home.”
Riley offered a half-smile. “You just don’t want me to be the one to drive you.”
She said it kindly, but it made Brooke feel small nonetheless. She couldn’t admit her hesitation had little to do with not liking Riley and everything to do with the fear that maybe she was starting to like her a little too much. “Hits and I usually DD for each other, but she lives in Slidell.”
“That’s silly, then. I’m in Metarie.”
It did make a whole lot more sense. And Hits was looking awfully chummy with a woman Cali had brought with her. She’d hate to interfere if there might be a connection brewing. “That would be great. Thanks.”
Riley’s smile went all the way to her eyes. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Brooke shrugged. “Whenever you are, but I’m in no rush.”
“We could play one more game of darts?”
“So you can kick my ass again? No thanks.” She poked Riley lightly in the chest to make it clear she was teasing.
“Pool?”
Now they were talking. “You’re on.”
Before starting, Brooke decided to make herself one more Crown and Sprite. Might as well enjoy this state as long as possible. “Can I fix you something?” she asked Riley.
“I’ll take a plain Sprite.”
She filled a second cup with ice and poured both drinks. The pool game took even longer than darts had. By the time Brooke eked out a win, she was tipsy and bordering on silly. Definitely her cue to call it a night. Riley didn’t seem to mind heading out, reminding Brooke that she lived with two little kids who woke up very early, and they made their good-byes.
At a red light, Riley sneaked a glance at Brooke only to find Brooke already staring at her. Unlike the stares she’d become accustomed to, this one held no animosity. If she didn’t know better, she might say it was a look of desire. “What?”
Brooke shook her head slowly. “You’re really attractive, you know that?”
She chuckled. Good to know her instincts weren’t totally off. “How drunk are you?”
Brooke laughed. “I’m not. I don’t have to be drunk to pay you a compliment.”
Riley raised a brow.
“I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch to you.”
She knew better than to say it, but she kind of liked drunk Brooke. “You haven’t been.”
“Yes, I have, and we both know it.”
“All right, let me rephrase. I get why you have.”
“Still, that doesn’t make it okay.”
The olive branch was more than she would have hoped for, drunk or sober. She didn’t want to waste it. “What if we called a truce? Or started over? Or something like that?”
“Really?”
“I sort of have a vested interest in us getting along.” One that had nothing to do with the attraction she couldn’t seem to shake.
Brooke smiled, a conciliatory smile that gave Riley even more hope than the apology. “That would be nice.”
She pulled into the driveway Brooke indicated and cut the engine. She got out to open the door for Brooke, who was definitely moving a bit slow, and grabbed her bag.
“Are you always so chivalrous?”
A loaded question if she ever heard one. “Does it bother you?”
Brooke closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “No.”
Riley smiled. “Then yes.”
That earned her another laugh. God, she loved Brooke’s laugh. Even more, she loved being the one to inspire it. Which was probably dangerous territory, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“I’m not a fan of needing to be rescued.”
“You’re highly capable. Surely, you never doubt that.”
Instead of answering, Brooke focused on taking out her keys and unlocking her door. Riley followed her inside. She flipped on a light and motioned to the floor. “You can leave that there. Thank you for bringing it in and for the ride.”
“Happy to. I mean it.”
Brooke turned and looked right into her eyes. “I believe you.”
Unlike the comment about being chivalrous, the statement felt like an unequivocal compliment. It kicked her already elevated heart rate up a notch. “Be sure to have a couple ibuprofen and a big glass of water before you go to bed.”
“I will.”
Brooke moved toward the door, and Riley took it as her cue to leave. Only Brooke stopped short, right in front of her. As unlikely as it seemed, it felt like Brooke was about to kiss her.
And then she did.
She put one hand on Riley’s shoulder. Riley could feel her shift onto her tiptoes. The hem of Brooke’s sundress brushed against her knees. And then her mouth, warm and soft and sweet, was on Riley’s.
Unable to resist, Riley threaded both hands into her hair. A little sound of pleasure escaped Brooke’s mouth. It was all the invitation she needed to take the kiss deeper. She angled her head, nipped Brooke’s bottom lip gently. Another hum and Brooke’s tongue found hers.
Blood roared in her ears, and all the desire she’d been trying to talk herself out of for weeks came flooding back. Wanting to drag Brooke to bed warred with knowing she shouldn’t, not like this. She reluctantly pulled away, at least long enough to decipher Brooke’s intent.
“Shit.” Brooke blinked at her, a complete lack of intent evident on her face.
“That bad, huh?” Maybe if she lightened the mood, it would help.
Brooke slowly shook her head. “Not bad at all.”
“Oh, so more of a wow, then.” Riley grinned. That was the word she’d come up with.
“But this is a terrible idea.”
Riley’s heart sank. Even if she knew it was true, it didn’t make it suck any less. “Yeah.”
“You agree?”
What an impossible question. “It probably isn’t the best thing to do in this moment.”
Though, God, did she want to keep doing it. Kissing and so very much more.