Page 52 of Fly's Path

A flirt. And I’m loving it!

Bram sinks ball after ball. Between each shot, his eyes go to Savie.

But what’s interesting is the way hers are following him. Savie is more than a little into this guy. I mean, who can blame her? Bram has it going on with those curls that flop over his eyes, that muscular body that he hides behind old-fashioned clothes just like Savie, and that accent.

To be fair, most of us have a thing for a man with an accent, not that I can quite place Fly’s.

“So I have to win and then lose fair and square.”

Do I want to kiss him? Absolutely. Do I want him to win? That I’m not so sure about, not when my friend desperately wants her guy to win.

Bram is giving it a good go.

“You don’t think it’s possible that I could win?”

Fly stops flirting and really looks at me. “Impossible, no. Improbable, yes.”

Not knowing my life, that’s reasonable. “You’re that good?”

“Yeah, I am.”

And you don’t lack confidence. “Good to know.”

Fly leans down and whispers in my ear, “How good are you?”

A shiver runs through my body.

“Your turn.” Bram walks over to Savie.

She smiles up at him like he lights up her world.

The two start talking, and I wander away to give them privacy…well, as much as they can get in a room full of people.

But that gives me an opportunity to really watch Fly play pool. He’s methodical in his placement and choices of which shot to take. It’s like he’s playing several moves ahead. A game of chess with him would be interesting.

Not that I enjoy chess. It was more of my brother’s game of choice, but I had to get decent at it, or he’d thoroughly trounce me every time.

Fly looks up from an impressively difficult banked shot and winks at me. He’s showing off, and I can’t say I don’t appreciate it.

The subtle spin he adds to the cue ball impresses me even more. Fly didn’t exaggerate his skills.

When he’s down to the eight ball, I glance over at Savie. The frown on her face seals the deal for me. Fly needs to lose. How? You just asked him to win and lose for you. He’s not going to throw a game.

This man is focused. What if I distract him a little? Is that even possible?

I’m no femme fatale.

Awkward friends are better than a femme fatale, right?

Fly’s leaning over to line up the shot, and Savie has tears in her eyes. Here goes my best take on distracting a man with my feminine wiles. A woman in one of my books could make a man do anything she wanted…Yeah, but then she’d kill him, and that’s not really the style you’re going for.

Just do it before you lose your chance. I walk over to where he is, lean over, letting my side brush as much of his as possible—don’t think about the fireworks that are electrifying your body. Setting my hand on top of his larger one on the cue stick took a lot of nerve.

That’s me, one brave, bold woman.

What we do so that our friends can kiss a hot biker with a sexy British accent.

Fly looks up at me with a mixture of what can only be a sexy grin and complete confusion.