Page 48 of The Backup Groom

“Oh no, I wasn’t suggesting we actually play it!” she said. “I mentioned to Stella I was going to play tennis with you, and she suggested we upped the ante and play strip tennis. I’ve heard of strip poker, of course, but not strip tennis. I mean, how could we even play in public without getting arrested? Could you imagine?”

Did she really want me to picture us playing strip tennis?

Why would she put that image in my head?

Amber was a cruel, cruel woman who knew how to bring a man to his knees. I suddenly was having a hard time breathing. All my spit vanished when I tried to swallow. I was so parched I couldn’t even blink.

“No—I can’t imagine that at all,” I lied, using all my willpower not to picture her in her birthday suit. “I didn’t even know naked yoga existed until you came in with your date the other day. Which I will want full details on after I beat you.”

“Ha!” Amber said. “Not gonna happen.”

“You can serve first,” I said.

“Fine, but don’t take it easy on me.”

“Don’t worry—I won’t,” I said.

Amber bounced the ball a few times, then blasted the serve right by me for an ace to win the first point. I didn’t even have a chance to react to the ball.

I blinked twice. “Okay, I see how it’s going to be.”

“I play to win; you should know that.”

“So do I.”

At least my thoughts were off strip tennis and on wiping the cocky look off her face.

She bounced the ball a few times to serve again, but first called out the score. “Fifteen-love.”

I smirked. “That’s me . . . oozing with love.”

Amber laughed. “What do you call a girl standing in the middle of the tennis court?” Before I could even guess, she gave me the answer. “Annette.” She cracked up at her own joke.

I shook my head. “That was dumb.”

“Then why are you laughing?” she asked.

“I’m easily amused.” And, despite myself, I continued chuckling.

“Speaking of amusing, did you know that Maria Sharapova’s grunt was louder than a lawnmower back when she used to play tennis?” she asked.

I stared at her. “Are you one of those people who always talks during a movie?”

“Of course! I always have so many questions!” she said. “Like why did the woman search through her house after she heard a noise instead of running out while she still had the chance? I’m the one yelling at the screen, ‘Get out, you moron! You’re going to die!’ It’s the funniest thing.”

“Hilarious,” I deadpanned. “What’s even funnier is how obvious it is that you’re trying to distract me, so I don’t play well. Try serving the ball again. It’s that green fuzzy thing in your hand.”

“I was being sociable, Mr. Grumpy. Okay, I won’t say another word.” She bounced the ball a few times, but right before she tossed the ball up to serve it, she licked her lips.

Twice.

Why did she have to do that?

Now, I was thinking of Amber’s kisses.

I bet her lips tasted like strawberries on a summer evening.

Wonderful.