Page 3 of Protecting Peyton

On the next table over, Duke Hawk was losing to his fiancée, Serena, and did not seem happy about it.

Then, she hip-bumped him, and the look he shot her confirmed the obvious love they shared. It hurt to realize it was a look I’d never get to enjoy.

Beyond them, Joe Castro, our mechanic, was squaring off against Lt. Marcus Wellbourne, our best friend in the LAPD.

Looking on, Terry had his arm around Grace, and Grace’s brother, Pete,who’d just arrived back stateside after being rescued from some Syrian hellhole, stood next to Terry. An hour ago, he’d tried to strangle Terry for daring to date his sister, but now they were best buds again—go figure.

Peyton walked behind them to stand next to Pete. With AirPods in her ears, she swayed to the music only she heard.

It was a nice try, but that wouldn’t work on me. I altered my path. “You sure move fast with that electric boost.”

Peyton ignored me and turned to Pete. “Would you like to play a game?”

“Not yet,” he said.

I tapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll take that challenge.” Would she be classy and feel obligated to accept, or be a bitch and decline?

With a sigh, she pulled the AirPods out of her ears and accepted. “Okay.” Classy won out.

“I challenge the winner,” Pete said.

So he wasn’t staying out of the action entirely.

I pointed to an empty table. “After you.” Following her not only gave me a better view of how she filled out those jeans, but I enjoyed the strawberry scent that trailed her.

She selected a cue. “Prepare to be destroyed.”

I brushed her arm as I grabbed a cue myself. “You can destroy me all night long.”

She gave a labored sigh and threw the triangle onto the felt. “Has that line ever worked for you?”

I rolled balls toward her for the rack. “Not the first two times, but I’m betting the third time’s the charm.”

She laughed. “Don’t give up your day job for professional betting.” She set up the balls.

“Can you handle a little action?”

“I’d rather not.”

I slapped down a twenty. “You’re the one who claimed you’d destroy me, remember?”

She shook her head. “Maybe I should have stayed quiet.”

I tapped the bill. “Maybe.”

Reluctantly, she pulled a ten and two fives out.

“If you’re so confident, should we make it fifty?”

She shook her head. “That’s all I have on me.”

“Okay. I look forward to being destroyed.”

“You want bigger stakes?” She leaned against the table. “If I win, you agree to stop propositioning me.”

“For tonight,” I amended. “And as a gentleman, I’ll let you take the break.”

She walked the long way around to the end of the table. “I didn’t say you weren’t a gentleman. It’s your corny pickup lines I can’t handle.” She leaned over the table to prepare her shot.