Page 7 of I Do, or Dye Trying

“Cornhole,” Harley said, rubbing his hands together gleefully.What the hell was cornhole?I’d heard of a glory hole but we weren’t having that kind of party.

“I have one in my truck,” Kyle offered.

“What the hell for?” Josh asked. “Who keeps a measuring tape in their vehicle besides a carpenter?”

“I don’t know why it’s there. I found it in the glovebox when I cleaned my truck last week. You want it or not?” Kyle fired back good-naturedly.

Josh scoffed and replied, “I have my own tools.” He went to the garage and returned with a tape measure then measured the distance between the two boards. “Twenty-six and three-quarter inches,” he said proudly. “Not bad.” He let the tape measure snap back inside then blew on it like a cowboy blew on the end of his pistol in a bad western movie. I had something Josh could blow on later.

“I call Jazz for a partner,” Meredith said quickly.

“You had him last time,” Chaz said with a pout. “You brought your plus two with you to the barbecue, pick one of them.”

“They wanted to play on the same team,” Meredith told Chaz. “You gotta be quicker around here if you want Jazz on your team.”

“I’ll be on your team, Chaz,” Kyle offered. “I’m pretty good.”

“Really?” Chaz asked.

“Are you asking me to confirm that I want to be on your team or are you questioning how good I am?” Kyle asked.Is it me or had Kyle’s voice dropped to a sexier timbre at the last part?The owlish way Chaz blinked convinced me I wasn’t the only one who heard it.

“Let’s do it,” Chaz said boldly, then blushed furiously when he realized how his response could be taken a few different ways.

Kyle’s smile spread slowly across his face showing the dimples that gave him his nickname. “Alrighty then,” he said gleefully.

“What the hell is going on here?” I finally asked.

“Cornhole,” Josh said as if that explained everything. “Oh, I forgot the bags.”

“What’s cornhole?” I asked him, but he was already heading back to the garage.

“It’s sort of like horseshoes, but you throw a square bag of corn at the hole in the board instead of a metal horseshoe around a stake in the ground. You get one point if your bag lands on the board and three if you toss it in the hole,” Chaz said, then went on to explain how the scoring worked.

“So, I take it that Josh is good at this game since you two were fighting over him,” I said, gesturing between Chaz and Meredith with my tongs.

“Of course, I am,” Josh said when he returned to the group. It would’ve come across as bragging with anyone else, but not him. He was stating a fact. He was one of those annoying people that did things effortlessly and made everyone else look bad.

“I guess that means it’s you and me, Emory,” I told him. Hell if I was going to sit out.

“I would’ve brought my boards if I’d known you were playing,” Kyle said. “We could’ve had a tournament.”

“Where the hell did you store cornhole boards?” I asked him. I’d lived with the man for two years—one in Florida and one in Ohio—and I’d never seen a set.

“I didn’t take them to Florida when I went to veterinary school and didn’t pick them up from my mom and dad’s house until after you moved out. I got away from playing and forgot how fun it could be.”

“How much longer on the meat, babe?” Josh asked. “I need some serious protein for tonight’s festivities.”

“Now we’re talking,” I said, perking up, even though I suspected we were talking about two different types of festivities. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Perfect,” he said then went back to making sure everything was set out for our first barbecue.

I had been confident earlier when I whipped up the barbecue sauce, but that faded when people eagerly waited to taste it. I hadn’t grilled for so many people before, and sweat began to pop out on my forehead. Josh came over a few minutes later and wiped my brow with a paper towel.

“I sampled your sauce earlier, and I have to tell you that it’s amazing. I might’ve been doubtful about the ingredients, but together they are perfect. Like us.”

“I’m so glad you like my sauce,” I told him honestly.

“I love your sauce, Gabe.” I could tell we were moving into naughty territory and there was no time for that or I’d burn our dinner.