Page 33 of Guys Can’t Write Romance
They grabbed their beers and walked over to one of the pool tables that had just opened up. Chad racked the balls and handed Daisy a cue stick.
“You wanna break?” he said.
“What’s that mean?”
“You hit the white ball with the stick into the other balls hard enough to knock them apart.”
She nodded. “Prepare to be wow’d.”
By the time she had scratched three times in a row, sending the cue ball flying off the table and across the floor, Chad couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “When does the ‘wowing’ part start?”
“Shush. New rule,” Daisy said as Chad fetched the ball and put it back on the table. “Every time I hit the white ball off the table, it’s a home run.”
Chad laughed, setting his beer down. “I have a better idea. How about I show you.”
He leaned over behind her, his hands steadying hers as he guided the cue stick. “Here’s the trick. Line it up like this, keep your wrist steady, and snap it into the cue ball.”
A pleasant, unexpected tingle shot through her at his touch. She glanced at him sideways, arching her eyebrow. “Was this your devious ploy to put your arms around me?”
“Nope. It was my subtle ploy.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips had curled into a grin. “Let’s see if your coaching skills were enough to keep the white ball on the table.”
Daisy pulled back the cue and took the shot, and in an apparent miracle, she not only kept the cue ball on the table, but managed a good break.
“Woah!” Chad exclaimed. “Now that’s some quality coaching.”
“Excuse me? I think all credit goes to the student.”
After several games of mostly terrible (but hilarious) pool, with Daisy making up new rules as she went, it was time to move on to the next bar sport.
“Ready for some darts?” Chad said.
“You’re gonna trust me with sharp, pointy things?”
“I’ll be standing a safe distance behind you. Preferably behind a wall.”
“Okay. But I hope your insurance is paid up.”
They walked over to the dartboard on the back wall. Chad picked the darts from the board, then joined Daisy behind a taped line on the floor. Daisy’s first two throws hit the wall next to the board, and the third bounced off the floor.
“Let me guess,” Chad said as he fetched the darts, “you have a new rule for darts.”
She grinned and gave a big nod. “Yup. Bonus points if you miss the board completely.”
“What if you hit the board by accident?”
“That’s an error.”
“You remembered the lingo from game day.”
“How could I not? My teacher used French fries to demonstrate it, then ate the fries.”
Chad laughed. “Your teacher sounds talented.”
“He has his moments.”
Daisy drew her arm back and tossed the next dart, and somehow, it miraculously stuck into the board.
Daisy’s jaw dropped. “How’d that happen?”
“Don’t ask me. But that counts as an error.”
“Nope. Not anymore,” she said. “New rule. If the girl hits the board, it’s a home run. If the boy hits the board, it’s a foul ball.”
Chad chuckled and shook his head. “What if the boy hits the wall?”
“That’s an out.”
“Can the boy hit the floor?”
She shook her head. “Nope. That’s a grounder.”
“So, there’s no way for the boy to win?”
She grinned. “You’re catching on.”
“How about I coach you on how to throw it?”
“Is that you looking for another excuse to put your arms around me?”
A blush quickly filled his cheeks. “My subtlety needs some work, doesn’t it?”
She smiled, a soft tingle filling her at the twinkle in his eyes and blush on his cheeks. “We’ll let it slide. Show me what to do, coach.”
As he stood behind her, holding her hand as he guided it back, that same thrill raced through her body as before. And Daisy Fields was officially now a fan of bar sports.
After several games of darts in which, fortunately, nobody got jabbed or lost an eye, it was time for their next adventure.
“You know what I really want to do,” Daisy said, “is sing karaoke.”
“Now we’re talking,” Chad said. “Are you any good?”
“Define good.”
“Do dogs howl and people wince?”
“They’ve been known to.”
“Perfect!”
As they stepped outside, the night air had grown noticeably chillier. Daisy folded her arms, but her light sweater did little to stave off the chill. Seeing this, Chad immediately slipped out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
She looked up at him, and her eyes met his. Her breath caught momentarily in her throat as she saw that twinkle in them. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“Can’t have my partner freeze to death,” he said casually, lightly touching her back as he led her down the block to another dive bar, the Shipwreck Saloon, where loud, horribly off-key karaoke poured through the open patio window.
A soft smile formed on her cheeks. “You keep surprising me, Chad.”
“Hopefully, in a good way.”
“It is.”
The Shipwreck Saloon was rowdier than The Salty Siren as they walked in, its walls echoing a terrible rendition of ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ belted from the stage on the far side of the packed room.
Daisy reflexively took Chad’s hand as her eyes scanned across the patrons whooping and hollering from their tables. “I’m gonna need another beer before we do this.”
“Me too,” he said.
Still holding her hand, he led her through the crowd to the bar. “What do you want?”
“I better stick to beer,” she said.
“Beer it is.” He signaled the bartender and ordered two Stellas.
When the beers came, they both took big gulps.
“You nervous?” he asked her.
She nodded. “A little. It’s been a while.”
He gave her shoulder a soft, reassuring squeeze. “Look at it this way. No matter how bad you and I suck, there’s no way we’re as bad as that guy.” He nodded to the stage.
“I might surprise you,” she said.
“Then we’ll have good memories.”
Without thinking, Daisy leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek.
As she settled back into her heels, an awkward blush colored her cheeks at the spontaneity of the kiss.
She had never done anything like that before and hoped she hadn’t misread the signs.
As a broad grin spread across his face, she knew she hadn’t.
“I need to drag you out on rescue missions more often,” he said in that way he had of putting her at ease.
“Don’t let me chicken out, okay?” she said.
“On karaoke or kissing me again?”
She smiled sheepishly. “Both. Maybe.”
He smiled and nodded. “Let’s show these people what karaoke’s about. What do you want to sing?”
“What’s a good baseball song?”
“Take me out to the ball game,” he said. “It’s an all time crowd pleaser.”
“We’ll do that one, then.”
She took his hand again as he led her through the crowd to the guy manning the karaoke machine. “Do you have ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’?” Chad asked him.
“Sure do,” the guy said. “Got another group ahead of you, then you’re on.”
Daisy nervously wiped her hands on her sweater.
“You got this, Fields,” he said, giving her back a soft rub.
When it was their turn to take the stage, she held his hand in a death grip as they walked up to the microphone. A moment later, the music started, and the lyrics scrolled across the screen.
‘Take me out to the ballgame…’ they started off to the organ music grinding over the speakers, ‘take me out with the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack, I don’t care if I never come back…’
Several tables joined in, swaying their beers in the air. ‘Let me root, root, root for the home team…’ Daisy smiled and leaned into Chad, the two of them swaying with the song. ‘If they don’t win, it’s a shame…’
By the time they reached ‘For it’s one, two, three strikes you’re out…’, Daisy remembered why she used to love karaoke so much. It was shameless and silly and just fun.
‘At the old ball game.’
As the song concluded, Daisy took Chad’s hand and dragged him over to the guy manning the machine to add their names to the song queue. There were four groups ahead of them, and theirs would be the last song of the night.
In one of the romance books Daisy had assigned him for homework, Chad read that love happens slowly, and then all at once.
And that’s how it happened for him. Somewhere between watching her repeatedly scratch at pool, and closing out the night with an ear-watering rendition of ‘Sweet Caroline,’ Chad fell in love with Daisy Fields.