Some Like It Hot: An Erotic Romance Anthology

Grace grabbed her sister’s arm just when she started to turn away. “Don’t you dare!”

Mercy laughed and heads began to turn.

“Relax, sister mine. I won’t say anything. At least not yet.”

“What does that mean?” God, Grace could feel the blackmail coming on.

“It means that if you go over there and talk to those two cowboys, I’ll keep my mouth shut. If you don’t… Well, I’m gonna have a little fun.” Mercy made a spectacle of looking around the room, causing Grace to look too.

Shit. There were way too many employees, not to mention guests, in the rec room at the moment which meant if Mercy opened her big mouth, Grace wouldn’t be able to show her face for at least a decade. Maybe two.

“Fine,” Grace said in a harsh whisper. “I’ll go over there. You better keep your damn mouth shut.”

“Wait. Where’re you goin’?” Mercy asked when Grace turned to walk away.

“I’ve got a sister to pummel into the ground first. But then, as I said, I’ll go talk to them.”

With that, Grace stormed away to the sound of Mercy laughing her ass off behind her.

???????

“Gracie doesn’t look happy,” Lane mentioned as he lined up to take his shot at the table.

Grant didn’t turn to look. Instead, he tipped his beer back and watched Lane over the edge of the bottle. He knew Gracie didn’t look happy. She hadn’t looked happy since the night they’d kissed her.

In fact, for most of the week she had managed to evade them at every turn. They’d run into her a few times, but she’d been overly polite, refusing to make eye contact which had begun to piss him off.

And right now, Grant wasn’t in the mood to watch her walk away.

Hell, he was getting a little tired of the whole scene, but he had promised Lane that he’d come to the rec center for an hour or two. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he was glad to see that his two hours were almost up.

“Shit,” Lane mumbled when he missed, his eyes transfixed on something behind Grant. “Mercy’s on her way over.”

Yep, shit was right.

Grant stood up straight, downing what was left of his beer when she reached his side.

“I’ve just handed you the winning cards. If you don’t know how to play this hand, then y’all are sad, sad excuses for men.” With that, the blonde walked right on by.

Grant looked at Lane, his eyebrows raised in question but his friend didn’t have an answer either.

“Can I play?”

It was a damn good thing his beer was empty because Grant would’ve spilled its entire contents down his shirt. A small glance to his left assured him that yes, he’d heard correctly. Gracie was standing at his side, peering up at him as she waited for him to answer.

“Sure.”

“Man, we’re in the middle of a game,” Lane huffed, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’ll play the winner.”

Grant glanced down at the table, counting the balls and trying to figure out the odds of him winning. Slim to none, and the wicked grin on Lane’s face said he knew it too.

“Good idea,” Lane said as he moved closer, brushing against Gracie as he passed by. “She’ll play the winner. Oh, wait. It’s still my turn.”

Lane strolled back to the table, his cocky walk exaggerated as he all but celebrated his success.

Then again, unless the guy fucked up majorly, there wasn’t a chance in hell that Grant was going to win this one anyway. He was a good pool player, but he wasn’t great. And tonight he was completely off his game. More so now that Gracie was close enough that he could smell the fruity scent of her shampoo.

“You’re losing,” Grace told him, a smirk on her pretty mouth.

“I am,” he agreed. No reason to deny it, the truth was laid out right there on the table for all to see.

Laid out on the table…

Lord, his mind was going in a direction that it really shouldn’t but no matter how hard he tried, Grant couldn’t reel it back in.

“Are you doing all right?” he asked, trying to make small talk.

“Nope, but I’m here. That’s all that matters.”

Grant shifted so he could look at Gracie directly. “What does that mean?”

“It means I’m being blackmailed by my sister,” Gracie answered easily, still watching Lane. “All thanks to you.”

Grant glanced around the room until he located not one but all four of Gracie’s sisters. Faith, who was currently chatting it up with Rusty and looking none too happy about it; Trinity, who was sitting on a chair with a book open in her lap; Hope, who was sitting at a small table with two other women, laughing openly about something one woman said; and… Yep, there was the troublemaker. Mercy. Although Grant had no idea what she could possibly have on Gracie.

“Faith’s blackmailing you?” he asked, stunned. Little Faith Lambert was nothing if not sweet and seemingly innocent. She was the youngest of the five sisters, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

“Nope. She went and delegated that to Mercy.”

“She told…”

“Yep. Are you happy now?”

It was clear that Gracie certainly wasn’t happy, but he didn’t get a chance to answer when Lane walked up and clapped him on the back. Hard. “Maybe next time.”

Shit. Looking at the pool table, Grant noticed that Lane had certainly swept him.

“My turn?” Gracie asked sweetly, but again, she didn’t meet his eyes.

“Looks like it.” Grant handed her the pool stick he’d been using and took a step back so he could watch the pair.

It looked like it was going to be one of those nights.

???????

Lane hadn’t heard the conversation between Grant and Gracie, but he didn’t have to be a brainiac to figure out that Gracie wasn’t happy about something.

“You break,” Lane told Gracie as he once again brushed up against her as he passed by.

Gracie nodded, paying special attention to the chalk in her hand. He knew she wasn’t that worried about this game, so he figured she was just trying to avoid looking at him.

Several minutes later, Lane had gone easy on her to avoid ending the game too soon. It was clear that pool wasn’t one of Gracie’s favorite things to do, but she was there and that was all that really mattered to him. She and Grant. His night had gone from good to phenomenal when she approached. And now he didn’t want it to end.

“S’up?” Cody Mercer, Dead Heat Ranch’s head equipment mechanic, said as he approached, his eyes darting between the three of them befor

e landing back on Lane.

Fuck. Shit. Damn.

“Nada,” he told Cody. “What’s up with you? How’s your mama?”

“Good, man,” Cody answered, staring back at Lane as he sipped his beer.

Lane liked Cody. He was a good guy. But at the moment, his presence meant Lane’s night was about to go to shit even if Cody didn’t mean for it to. The guy had good intentions, but it wasn’t a secret that he opened his mouth at the most inopportune times. Right now was one of them.

“She just got out of the hospital,” Cody declared, looking over at Gracie. “So who–”

“They find out what was wrong with her?” Lane asked, purposely cutting Cody off, trying to tell him no with his eyes. Do not go there, bro. That’s not gonna be cool.

“Dehydration,” Cody said easily. “She had the flu and she was so dehydrated, her blood pressure dropped. They filled her full of fluids. All’s good now.”

Maybe all was good with Cody’s mom, but it wasn’t going to be good if the man shot off at the mouth. Lane didn’t say as much.

“Good to hear.”

“Your turn,” Gracie called to him as she stepped back from the table.

Lane was hesitant to move away from Cody, wanting to be close enough to tackle him if he said what Lane expected him to say. But, he didn’t want to look suspicious, so he moved over to the table, opposite Gracie.

“So,” Cody began, and Lane closed his eyes, “which one of you lucky bastards won the bet?”

Lane lined up a shot, took it. The balls clanked together from the force of the hit, but he sank his ball and then turned to look at Grant.

“What bet?” Gracie asked, her eyes on Cody.

“The one these two’ve had going for… How long’s it been now? Two years?”

Gracie looked more than a little interested and when Grant tried to step in front of her, blocking her view of Cody, she pushed him aside. Sort of. She tried to push him aside, but Grant held his ground so she just moved around him.