Free See You at Sunset by V. K. Sykes

to get a grip. “Holly, go ahead and throw whenever you’re ready,” he said, his throat a little tight. “We’re gonna murder these guys.”
    That overblown declaration seemed to defuse the rest of the tension in her sweet bod.
    “Murder?” she tossed out, only half turning around. “Goodness, that’s hardly an appropriate thing for an officer of the law to say, Deputy Lancaster.”
    Micah didn’t miss the slight catch in her voice, despite her flip words. Was he doing that to her? He sure as hell hoped so.
    Man, how he wanted this woman. He could tell himself a million times over that it was batshit crazy, and even self-destructive, to think of Holly as more than a friend. He had told himself that, so many times that the words were carved into his gray matter. But his resolve always took a powder whenever he saw her. In fact, the more he vowed to put his feelings for her out of his mind, the stronger they seemed to get.
    Holly inhaled a deep breath, and with a gentle spinning motion, she slid the puck down the table. The beads of silicone that had been scattered over the polished wood surface gave the puck a smooth glide until it finally stopped in the three-point section at the opposite end. Holly clapped her hands in delight.
    “Great shot.” Micah patted the slender curve of her hip. “You’ve always had a real sweet touch, Holly.”
    So much for his resolve to play it cool.
    Holly swung around and eyed him cautiously. Micah gave her what he hoped was a totally innocent-looking smile, just a well done, teammate look. The slight narrowing of her eyes told him he’d probably failed.
    Morgan elbowed him. “Okay, it’s time for the pros to take over.”
    Micah inadvertently bumped into Holly as he took a step to the side. She’d been moving too, and their bodies collided, his arm sliding over her breasts. Soft and oh so sweet, they felt amazing, even though the touch was momentary.
    More blood drained straight south to his dick.
    Holly practically jumped back, keeping her gaze firmly on Morgan and not on him.
    “Sorry,” he said.
    “No worries,” Holly replied. She refused to look at him, but he heard a slight catch in her throat.
    Morgan slid a blue puck in a straight line down the board and knocked Holly’s shot into the gutter. Micah made himself concentrate on the game instead of on his partner. He stepped up and wasted no time mirroring Morgan’s shot, knocking her puck off the table.
    They all played well through the rest of the first frame, falling into an easy rhythm. Even Holly seemed to forget her worries—and the sexual tension between them—long enough to get into the spirit of the competition, enthusiastically urging Micah on whenever it was his turn.
    The score was tied, and Holly held the hammer in her hand. She was facing a board with Ryan’s puck in scoring position and the next one belonging to her and Micah. If Holly could somehow manage to curl her last shot just enough to both knock Ryan’s out and stay on the board, she and Micah would win the frame.
    Micah didn’t offer any advice because he knew she had it under control. She’d shown a deft touch throughout the game. He put her chances of making this moderately difficult shot at something like 70 percent if her speed was perfect. If not, the odds went way down.
    Holly turned to him. “I could do this for sure if I wasn’t half-lit,” she said with a rueful laugh.
    Micah leaned in. “It’s good to be loose. You can’t make tough shots when you’re uptight.” He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “You can totally do this.”
    Holly gazed at him for a long moment. She seemed… he searched for the right word… almost grateful for his support. As if she wasn’t used to it.
    That couldn’t possibly be true. Everyone loved Holly, including, he had to assume, her boyfriend. If he didn’t, the guy was a total tool.
    Then she broke the moment by nodding and turned back to the board.
    She spun the puck once and then