me in, too,” Matt said. “As long as you concentrate on the game, Reed, and not the kind that involves finding a willing woman while pretending to play pool.”
“Well, now that you mention it.” Chase leaned down and draped his arm over Savannah’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t happen to be willing, would you, sweetheart?”
She removed his arm, much to Sam’s satisfaction, even if he shouldn’t care what the hell she did and who she did it with. “Not on your life, Chase,” she said. “That would be like kissing my brother.”
Chase grinned. “Just let me know if you change your mind.”
Matt came to his feet and said, “While we’re gone, you two girls can talk about us all you want.”
Sam had no doubt he’d be the prime topic of discussion, especially if Savannah had a mind to rake him over the coals with Rachel for his less-than-friendly attitude.
Once they reached the tables, Sam grabbed a cue from the wall holder and turned to discover that the couple currently playing pool didn’t appear to be in a hurry to complete their game. When they kept kissing and touching each other, he almost suggested they give up and take it into the parking lot.
Matt came to his side and said, “You and Savannah looked kind of cozy back there at the table.”
He shouldn’t be surprised by the comment. To any casual observer, they might have looked “cozy.”
“Your imagination’s out of control, Boyd.”
Chase joined them to add his two cents. “I don’t know, Mac. Are you sure you’re not hankerin’ to take a little trip back in time with Savannah?”
Sam battled the images the comment created and the urge to curse his friends. “You two don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.”
Fortunately, the couple had finally cut out, providing a diversion. “Looks like it’s our turn,” he said.
While Matt gathered the pool balls, Chase leaned back against the table and regarded Sam. “Twenty bucks says you and Savannah will end up in bed together before the week’s over.”
Sam didn’t like the bet or the bedroom images running through his mind. “Go to hell, Reed.”
Matt offered his hand to Chase. “I say three days.”
“You’re on,” Chase said as they sealed the wager with a shake.
When they both looked at Sam expectantly, he picked up a cue and took his first shot, missing the pocket by a mile. “No good ever comes from repeating history,” he muttered as he straightened. “You can both make a hundred bets and neither of you are going to win.” If he considered what they were suggesting, he’d also be in line to lose.
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