Good with His Hands Read Online Free PDF Page A

rich laugh. “Then you definitely have the right guy.”
    As she preceded him inside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. The bar had a cool, cave-like feel, with few windows overlooking the parking lot and street. But it was a classy cave—no smoke or scarred tables—boasting a quality list of domestic and imported beers.
    Gray looked around. “Private booth, or would you rather sit at the bar?”
    As nice as the private part sounded, she felt too restless to sit. Being this close to him had her buzzing with energy. “Third option—pool table. Do you play?”
    â€œYeah.” He smiled sheepishly. “But I should warn you, I can get pretty competitive.”
    Something else they had in common. “That’s okay. My friend Meg says I redefine the word.” Dani had taken a game night with the Raffertys a little too seriously last summer, and Meg’s family still teased her about it. But Major Yates had raised his daughter to be goal oriented. Sportsmanship had been more of an afterthought.
    Gray smirked. “Then this should be interesting.”
    At the bar, they asked about table availability and got a set of balls. Cues and racks hung by the tables. The cashier assured them a waitress frequently circulated the pool area and would take their drink orders soon. To the right of the main seating area, a short set of stairs led down to a recessed pool hall. The row of six pool tables was separated from the rest of the bar with a railed half wall. The opposite wall was completely mirrored, reflecting a rainbow of neon from various beer signs.
    Two of the tables were still vacant, and Dani went immediately to the one farthest from other players. A drink menu sat on the railing between a couple of leather-topped stools. Gray picked it up, flipping through the laminated pages.
    â€œYou want a look at this?” he asked.
    She shook her head, gaze locked on his. “Not necessary. I know exactly what I want.”
    Being cheated on was tough on a girl’s self-esteem. But with one steamy glance, Gray managed to restore any confidence she’d lost over the past month. For a second, he looked dazed, and it was heady, having an effect on a man so ridiculously sexy.
    He recovered quickly. “Well, don’t be shy. Let’s hear it.”
    You. On that pool table.
“Draft beer.”
    â€œSo you don’t go for the froufrou drinks?” He tilted his chin toward a waitress at the far end of the pool hall. On her tray were two foamy drinks in varying shades of pink and something bright blue in a glass the size of a small fishbowl, complete with a swizzle stick of impaled fruit.
    â€œDrinks with paper umbrellas have their place,” Dani said. “Like, if I’m poolside at some tropical resort. Champagne—
expensive
champagne—is for when I close on a high-dollar property, tequila shots are for bad breakups, sangria is for TV show marathons with my best friend. But draft beer is for when I’m about to kick some guy’s ass in eight ball.”
    â€œThen maybe you should be more concerned about the right drink for when you fall a dismal second.”
    She grinned, liking the pure challenge in his voice. “I don’t know what beverage that could be. You’ll have to tell me after you lose.”
    The waitress reached them a few seconds later. Dani ordered a Belgian white they had on tap. Gray asked for a dark ale. As the waitress departed, the two of them selected cue sticks and continued quizzing each other on the right cocktails for increasingly absurd occasions.
    â€œWhen your team wins the Super Bowl?” Gray asked.
    â€œAlabama slammer. What about if you win an Academy Award?”
    â€œFamous gold statue? Goldshläger, obviously. Toasting your fortieth birthday?”
    â€œSomething sophisticated and grown-up. A martini, maybe?” She shrugged. “I’m nowhere close to knowing