Page 16 of Nanny for the Bodyguard

Hazel smiles, but it’s tight. It’s then I remember that her parents were junkies. She was bounced around in foster care because they were dealers and addicts who never got their lives together.

Guilt hits me, and I drop my head. “Sorry.”

It’s quiet before I hear her walk up to the rack of cues, taking one and then patting me on the shoulder.

“It’s okay. We haven’t talked in years. I don’t expect you to remembereverything.”

There’s weight on that last word, but I don’t mention it. We both know there are some things between us we’ll never forget, and they’re exactly what we don’t want to talk about.

“Do you want to rack, or should I?” I sweep my arm out over the pool table, putting on my best Vanna White.

“Umm, that’s a you thing, buddy.” Hazel grabs the blue cube of chalk and dusts it over the end of her cue. “I know how much you love it.”

“Well,” I take the chalk from her when she offers it, hitting my cue with it before circling over toward the other end of the pool table where the balls are waiting, “if you win, you’ll get your chance fair and square.”

“If I win? Oh, Easton. That’s adorable.”

Resting my cue against the table, I pull out the triangle to rack the balls and start piling them in, making sure they’re all set correctly without any two of the same type touching each other.

“That’s big talk coming from the woman who hit me with her stick every time we played in the past.”

“You make it sound like I wasn’tpurposefullydoing that to annoy you?”

“Oh!” I exclaim, my eyes flaring wide as I playfully glare at her. “The truth is revealed!”

Just before I put the eight ball in its proper place, I knock it three times on the table for good luck.

“Oh, lord. You still do that stupid ritual with the eight ball? Haven’t you learned that it doesnotwork?”

“Hey,” I pick up the eight ball and gesture with it at her as I glare again, “this is my pregame ritual. You can’t mess with a man’s pregame ritual.”

Hazel holds up her hands in surrender, her grin easy and relaxed. “My bad. But maybe consider a new one when I kick your ass.”

“We’ll just see about that.”

We begin the game, and I break because Hazel “wants to be a gentleman.” I’m already smiling and laughing more than I have in…fuck, has it been years?

The thing is, it’s not good. Hazel is the last person I should be opening up to, the last woman I should be casuallyflirtingwith, and yet here I am.

I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t seem to help myself. I can feel us both falling back into familiar patterns of playful teasing and conversation.

Why is she just so damned charming?

As we play, I sink three balls before missing. My last shot is sloppy as hell, and I’m going to blame it on the fact that I can’t stop sneaking glances at Hazel’s ass.

Dammit, man. Get out of your head. This is so not good.

“Ha!” she teases. “My turn!”

Taking a swig of her drink, Hazel sets it down on a nearby high-top table before walking to the other side of the pool table.

She has to slide past me, and shit, I’m not sure if she does it on purpose or not, but Hazel brushes right past me, her ass skirting over my zipper.

My cock twitches in my pants, betraying me because he doesn’t give a fuck if this is complicated.

Quiet down, you. We arenotgoing there.

Hazel lines up her shot, bending over the table so that I can’t help but check out the ass that just brought my dick to life, and easy as pie, she sinks the green striped ball into the pocket.