Down for the Count(7)

By the time she got back to Galen, he’d taken off his jacket and started the stove. He looked up from his perch on a stool by the island in the kitchen. “You hungry? I can make some soup or something.”

“Not really.”

“Are you just planning to stay one night or did you want me to go to the store and get some groceries to last you a few days?”

“I—” She frowned. In her efforts to not think about her now demolished future, she’d been focused on putting one foot in front of the other. For the first time in her well-ordered life, she had no idea what her plans were. “If I need anything, I’ll walk down to the general store tomorrow.” He stood, and her stomach pitched. “W-where are you going?”

“Home. You don’t need me here watching you cry or whatever it is you planned on spending the night doing.”

His smooth baritone took on an edge of nervousness that almost made her feel sorry for him. Almost. But the thought of him leaving her by herself squashed it dead, and she prepared to beg if need be.

“I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to think. Tomorrow, when it’s a little less fresh, I’ll do my thinking and crying until I decide how to pick up the pieces. But for right now, what I’d like to do is get piss drunk and forget for a few hours.” She took a deep breath and wrung her hands together. “And I’d rather not do it alone.”#p#分页标题#e#

He hesitated for a long second, but when he nodded and faced her, his dark gaze was warm. “Getting drunk and embracing denial?” His lips quirked into a half grin. “Well then, I’m your man.”

…

Twenty minutes later they faced off across the coffee table, Lacey on the floor close to the wood-burning stove with her feet curled under her bottom, and Galen on the couch. A bottle of Jack Daniel’s sat between them, surrounded by eight shot glasses, some full and some half full.

“Are you sure about this? I’ve only ever played with beer. Maybe we should use the champagne instead?” Lacey asked, turning a dubious eye to the shooters.

“Are you chickening out?” he asked, making sure his tone was chock full of scorn. He chuckled when her expression clearly indicated she was thinking about it. “Champagne seems a little highbrow for this game. Plus, between the two of us, it ain’t gonna get the job done. I can offer you some cooking sherry. It’s from last spring, but I’m sure it’s fine. Probably.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s okay, I’ll pass. We’ll stick with the Jack.”

He held his fist out for a bump, and she obliged him with a roll of her eyes. Perfect. So long as he was annoying her, she wouldn’t cry. It had been more than a decade since he’d hit someone outside the ring, but for some reason, he didn’t think he could take even one more tear coming from those haunted eyes without driving back to the reception hall and popping Marty Clemson right in the chops.

Repeatedly.

“So what are the rules of this game?” he asked.

Lacey had taken her hair down from the fussy wedding ’do, and gold curls tumbled over her shoulders, making her wan skin look even more so by contrast. It was priority number one to put some color in those cheeks.

“The game is called I Never. The boys used to beg us to play back in college so they could try and take advantage of us later.”

He held up a hand as if to warn her to stay on her side of the table. “I’m flattered. Really. But I’m going to need some time to think it over.” That got a chuckle from her, which sent a bolt of satisfaction coursing through him.

“I’ll try to control myself. So here’s how it works. I’m going to say something that I’ve never done. If you’ve never done it, either, it’s your turn. If you have done it, you drink one of the small shots. If you want to plead the fifth and not answer, you have to drink one of the full shots. Get it?”

“Sounds pretty simple. I’ll start,” he said.

“Wait, why you?”

“My house, my liquor.”

She curled her lip and shook her head. “Geez, what happened to ladies first?”

“I save that mentality for the bedroom. Outside the bedroom, it’s an even playing field, so man up.”

Her cheeks went pink at that and the fist gripping his gut eased a little. She didn’t realize it yet, but she would get through this fine and come out the other side better for it. He’d always felt like her relationship with Marty had been based more on her feelings of friendship and a responsibility toward her parents than anything else. Not exactly the recipe for a knock-your-socks-off love affair. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her this was the best thing that could’ve happened to her. Clemson wasn’t even close to man enough for Lacey. Maybe once she was ready to talk about it, he would lecture her on finding a man who could take care of her right.