“Six against one,” Felix counters. “Because this is the price you pay. But if you prefer, I can send your girl inside so she doesn’t have to watch you piss your pants at the end.”
“Good lord.” Fifi pushes through the crowd, shaking her head. She’s not in her typical skirt suit work attire today. Instead, she wears a cute little sun dress that shows off more leg than even Raquel’s itty shorts do, and her hair is in a messy bun at the top of her head.
The sexy, strategically fluffed kind of messy bun. Not the ‘Minka is sick and sleepy and hasn’t showered today’ kind of messy bun.
She strides past me and crosses into no man’s land, stopping between the pool and the basketball hoop Cato had delivered here long before Steve’s heart attack changed our living arrangements. A gentle breeze flutters through her hair. It makes her dress dance.
And draws Fletch’s eyes like a hound on the hunt.
She points a finger in Felix’s direction. “You playing?”
He nods.
She looks to Tim, then Cato. “Yes or no?”
Game faces on. Flannel left at home. They nod.
She brings her focus around to Drake. “In or out, Detective.”
His jaw clenches tight, but he drops his chin and nods.
So she swings back around to Archer and Fletch. “Detectives?”
“Fine.” Archer stomps closer, slamming a violent kiss to my cheek and jockeying me back. “Stay here. Stay out of the way.”
“You’re being entirely too dramatic about this,” I grumble. “It’s just a game.”
“It’s gonna get messy.” He draws a deep breath and expands his chest, then he exhales again and finally flashes a boyish smile. “It’s gonna be fun. Watch me score for you.”
I press my hand to my heart. “Swoon.”
“Charlie?” Fifi raises a questioning brow. “Are you playing, or no?”
“Do it, Daddy! Show them how you get three points from really far away!”
“Go out to dinner with me!”
Stunned, weallturn and stare at the pale-faced, shaky-handed, trembling-kneed detective. Even Drake seems less concerned by his imminent beatdown and stretches his neck to get a better view.
Fifi gulps and looks left. Right. Down. Around. “What?”
“Please go out with me, Sera.” He stumbles forward a step. Two. Three. “I know shit’s been rocky for us, and I know I’m not all that much of a catch. I know I’m weird and annoying, and I only meant to ask you out, but nowthishas turned into a whole speech. But I really,reallywant you to give me a chance.”
“Ch-Charlie.” She inches backward. “I don’t?—”
“I want to see if we can do it.” He closes the gap between them and pries poor Fifi’s hands apart. “I wanna know if we can even be in the same space for an hour and not kill each other. I wanna do this thing where we focus onus. On Seraphina and Charlie. Not on work stuff, not on dad stuff. Not on this fuckin’ economy that’s trying to sink me, or that weird-ass watch my daughter is wearing, ‘cos I know it cost a bomb and I sure as shit didn’t buy it for her. But now she won’t give it up, and every time I ask about it, she says, ‘Cato said you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about it.’”
I peek across and snicker at Cato’s smug grin.
“I wanna get a meal and just be a guy, Sera. I want to be a normal, unattached, healthy man dating…” He releases her hand, only so he can gesture with his up and down in front of her body. “You. I wanna turn off the work part of my brain for an hour. I love my daughter more than I love oxygen, but I wanna turn off the parenting part of my brain, too. I wanna take you out and see you in a date night dress, and I wanna be all arrogant and shit, ‘cos I know you selected that dress with me in mind.”
Her jaw trembles. Her eyes scream. Her entire body vibrates with nervous energy.
Jesus. Is she gonna say no?
“Let’s commit to just one date,” he begs. “One time. One evening where I get to obsess over you instead of, like…” He noisily harrumphs. “Everything else. Please, Sera.” He drops to one knee. “Please?—”
“Woah! No.” Sprinting into no man’s land, Archer grabs his best friend under the arm and yanks him back to his feet. “The knee thing is just for the date. He’s asking you out for dinner. Not for a…” He chokes out a nervous giggle. “Just for dinner, I promise.”