Healing Haven - Book 2 in Haven Series [Complete]

13| Got any cuffs?

They tipped their shots in tandem and god, he was fast. Alyssa kicked back and chugged but Ethan blew past her and was gone, making short work of his tower, draining the final glass, a Guinness with a shot of whiskey, long before she even took her first sip of the yeasty brew.

"Wow," pushing the empties away from her, Alyssa sat back. "Okay. Lesson learned. I bow to your superior skills, Obi Wan."

"You want some water?"

"No, I'm good. I told you I have a high tolerance. Would take about three more of those to get me good and drunk." Pouring out a glass of Stella, Alyssa took a long swallow, rinsing all the booze out of her mouth with mild beer. "But talk to me a year ago? That was a different story."

She steered them into easy conversation about the gym—and he was stunned to hear that last the year she'd competed in fitness professionally. More than impressed with the photos, and trophies, she had to show for it. In the tiniest bikini he'd ever seen that did wonders to an already incredible physique, but he had to commend her perseverance. He knew she'd worked out but that kind of commitment demanded more than just physical strength, but mental fortitude as well. And a will of iron.

"Do you play pool?"

Loose and warm, Ethan set down his glass, the pitcher of Stella officially tapped out. "I've cleared a few tables."

"Good." Rising, Alyssa wagged a hand, waited. "Come on, tonight I'm your lady. Gotta keep me happy, don't you? Otherwise the vultures could swoop back in."

He thought about the ladies at the bar, already engrossed in a shiny, new catch as Alyssa's hand reached for his, her touch strong and determined. Sighing against the millions of reason why his logical, responsible self should decline, Ethan silenced it. What harm was a couple rounds? He'd come to relax, to have a night away from the stresses of his job. The last time he'd cleared a table was back in college and as far as he was concerned, it was long overdue.

He let her rack up, and gave her first break. Setting the cue ball in position, she took her stick in hand and leaned across the table.

Not looking at her ass required herculean strength, especially since what her body did to those jeans was all sorts of illegal. Being a man well versed in and charged with upholding the law, he ought to know.

Thankfully she broke quick and the balls cracked, firing in a starburst, spearing across the table. Four rolled cleanly into pockets. Pleased, Alyssa spun with a smile and set up to take another crack, claiming stripes.

She took three more passes before missing, leaving half the table for Ethan to come in and try to catch up. But his rust was showing and barely ten minutes later she'd effectively kicked his ass.

"Ouch, Sheriff. Losing to a girl doesn't look good on you."

"Shut up." Game face on, Ethan rolled up his sleeves. "Rack up. I break this time and we'll see who gets their ass kicked."

They played a few rounds as the dance floor opened. The music shifted into a punchy number with the smooth, heady notes that tugged on all the parts of Alyssa's body, compelling her to dance.

"C'mon, Sheriff, they're playing our song." Taking the cue from his hands, she hung his and hears on the wall before leading him along to the dance floor.

Something in him warned Ethan to dig in his feet. Resist. He didn't dance. Just like he didn't drink.

He was a badge and with the badge came responsibility. It wasn't like having a desk job where you opened a stack of folders, crunched numbers, closed the file, went home and that was the end of it. His kind of work demanded dedication. Long hours and longer days. There was no such thing as punching out or a day off.