A Member of the Council (2 page)

“If business slows down, start close early. I’ll finish. You can leave after the match ends.” Parris smiled, nodding toward the dart boards where the teams practiced. Grabbing a tray filled with longnecks, she headed toward the game area. “There’s a substitute player. We should be done faster than usual.”

“That’s what I love about you, ever humble,” April called after her.

“It’s not bragging if you’re damn good,” Parris answered. Darts was a confidence game. The more confident she was, the better her aim. She’d learned this lesson early.

She felt his gaze return to her as she walked toward the game area. Dark and seeking, his look made her feel like a tiger locked in a circus cage, waiting to perform the next show. Tonight everything felt different. She placed the tray on a table, handing out bottles. “A gift from the bar,” she told the visiting team.

“Trying to get us drunk?” Sally took her bottle.

“A little good will never hurts.” She gave a beer to Ty. A jolt of energy surged through her. She froze. What the heck was happening?

She saw the feeling surprised him too. Pulling the bottle away, he mumbled, “Thanks.”

She stood there, waiting for him to say something else. Like “Wow, static electricity is strong tonight.” Or some other crazy, we are meant to be together come on line. He walked around her to throw a few practice darts.

“Are you going to practice?” Jan, her team captain asked.

Parris took a deep breath. Focus. Focus. “Give me a few darts. I’ll be ready.”

She grabbed darts–the pink flowered flights glittered in the dim light. Play time.

Four games later, The Alibi team was ahead three to one. Now, singles games started and each player threw alone. Win or lose. Parris loved singles. One-on-one competition, she’d play the other team’s best thrower. The opponent never failed to compliment her skills. For a girl.

She felt shocked to find herself feeding the machine quarters next to Ty. The machine rated him the highest player? The scent of his body, a dark heady aroma, not unlike some of the ales she kept on tap, unnerved her.

“I guess Sally knows how to recruit a substitute.” Parris looked in his brown eyes, juggling her darts hand to hand. “Are you sure you’ve never played before?”

Ty shot her a smile designed to melt the coldest of hearts. Yes, he knew what he was doing all right. At least in the flirting department. Parris’ knees felt weak looking at him.

“I swear. I’ve never played league before. Beginners luck.” Ty motioned to the dart machine. “You ready or you want to throw a few practice darts?”

Parris’ eyes narrowed. Ha. He’d said he’d never played league before, not ever played before. Sally had brought in a ringer.

Confident in her throw, she shook her head. “Not needed. I’m ready to get this over.”

“Pretty sure of yourself aren’t you?” Ty tilted his head to the side, watching her reaction.

“You don’t have to be cocky when you’re good.”

“And you think you’re good?” Ty pressed. “A natural?”

She frowned, her face crinkling. “Put it this way, I have a lot of free time on my hands here when there’s nothing to do except practice.”

“Sounds like you play a lot.”

“I know I spend more time here than you probably do inside a courtroom. Your office doesn’t have a dart board.” Parris paused trying to visualize the wood paneled office, filled with expensive leather furniture and Persian rugs. Not the kind of place one would see a dart board hanging. Then again, one never knew. “Does it?”

Ty watched her, like he knew she imagined his office. “Of course not, the partners would have a cow if I hung a board over the leather couch instead of the Picasso they gave me for last year’s bonus.”

“I figured. Kind of slumming it tonight, right?” Parris’ face burned as she imagined the division between the two worlds. Gran made sure Parris never wanted for anything and Parris in turn, kept her wants reasonable allowing a grandmother on a fixed income to raise her. Ty on the other hand was probably a trust fund baby. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the game. Another couple hours and Ty Wallace would be out of her sight, her bar, and her life. She wished erasing him from her thoughts and dreams would be as easy.

Ty watched her. She waved toward the dart board, stepping back to her table. She sipped the imported French white wine she kept on hand as her personal indulgence.

“You’re up first,” she called back, not wanting to watch Ty throw the opening darts. Not wanting to watch him lean forward, his arm centered, steady and strong. His hand, gentle yet demanding as he released. The dart flowing with an invisible current focused directly at the bullseye. The dart board’s sound card emitted a sound like a gunshot each time a dart scored a bullseye. A perfect hit. Three perfect shots.

She couldn’t watch or think about Ty. Not now, not ever. Not if she wanted a chance to win the game.

She had a little time as the dart board changed over after the machine recorded Ty’s perfect score. Needing to match his darts, she hoped he didn’t know the path to a win. Darts was a game of knowledge, skill, and a little luck. She would need all three to keep this substitute from snatching this game away.

The board flashed, time to throw her first dart.

“Come on, Parris, hat tricks are your specialty,” Jan called out. Parris walked up to the line.

“Piece of cake,” Carol added.

Parris settled herself on the throw line. She turned, squinting at Rachel.

The redhead choked on a sip of beer. Wiping her mouth, she looked wide-eyed at Parris, “What?”

“Just wondering if you wanted to add to the chatter before I threw.” Parris grinned at the woman. Rachel tended to talk first, think later. Often, she’d wait until Parris released the dart to yell some lame encouragement. The noise would cause Parris to jerk, her dart veering away from its intended target.

“You told me to be quiet, so, I’m being quiet.” Rachel went back finishing off her beer, muttering, “Jeez. Damned if I do.”

Parris turned to the dart board, focusing her attention on the result she wanted. Three darts, aimed at the bullseye. Time to play hard. She whispered a short prayer of good luck. Leaning for the throw, released her first dart. A second flew fast after. Then the final dart hit. Pleased, she walked up to the board, pulling the closely gathered darts with one hand.

Turning back, she saw Ty watched her, standing in between her and the table, blocking her path. He held his hand up waiting for a high five.

She couldn’t ignore him but one touch would take her mind to a different game, one best practiced behind closed doors. Steeling herself, she walked toward him, hand in the air.

“Nice answer.” Their hands slapped together. Parris recognized desire in the man’s eyes. And something else–surprise. Ty looked genuinely surprised.

Welcome to my world
. Parris broke eye contact returning to her team table where her team congratulated her.

“See, I knew you had this game.” Jan linked her arm with Parris’. “In the bag.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Parris muttered, still refusing to watch her opponent throw. She’d know if she’d have a chance at a second round by sound alone.

When she’d heard two gunshots, she turned to watch. A triple seventeen, the game would be over. If he wasn’t a ringer, like Sally had claimed, his initial inclination would be to hit another bull, leaving one point. Crap no, Ty had moved his arm lower, aiming at the one shot to win the game, the triple seventeen,

Heat coursed through her body. This would be the first singles game she’d ever lost in league.

Miss, miss, rang through her mind. She didn’t like wishing bad luck but liked losing less.

As if he’d heard her, he turned, delaying his shot. “Not nice.”

She hadn’t spoken aloud. Shocked, she glanced around at her teammates who looked confused too. The four watched the dart fly right where he’d aimed. Ty won the game. Three hundred and one points in six darts.

Rachel broke the silence at the table. “Great game. You would have won if you’d gone first.”

“I know.” Parris didn’t know how to say what she was feeling without sounding like a spoiled brat. “It’s just…”

“You’ve never lost before. She is human, folks!” Rachel grinned, nodding to Jan. “Let’s get this match back to our favor.”

Jan took her place at the line. Rachel inched closer to Parris, whispering, “What was the chatter on the line about? You didn’t say anything.”

“Maybe he read my thoughts.” Parris whispered back, glancing over at Ty with Sally hanging on his arm, giggling over the win.

“Yeah, a man who looks like an angel and knows what a woman is thinking? Now that’s a fairy tale.” Rachel finished off her bottle, nodding toward Parris’ glass. “You need a refill?”

“Thanks.”

Rachel and Carol headed to the bar leaving Parris alone. Her mind kept wandering to Ty’s words. Did he read her thoughts?

* * * *

At the end of the night, the match went to Parris’ undefeated team. Sally didn’t seem fazed at the loss.

“We’re going to Sunshine to get breakfast before heading home. Want to come along?” Sally rested her hand on Ty’s forearm.

He looked at his secretary, hope flooding her face. Yep, this had been a bad idea. He picked up the beer he’d been nursing, finishing a last warm swig. “Sorry, I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I think I’ll have one more beer.”

Standing, he patted her on the shoulder, dismissing her. He walked over to the bar. Time to question Parris. Maybe he’d been wrong. He’d hate to turn her into The Council if she was a low-level natural who didn’t even know her power. He’d seen witches broken during The Council’s testing process.

Parris busied herself behind the bar when he walked up. “Need one more?”

Before he answered, she’d grabbed a bottle out of the fridge and popped the top. As he reached for his wallet, she waved him off.

“On the house. Six marks earn free drinks.” She grinned. “Nice darts.”

He took a sip of ice cold beer. “You only saw the last dart.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t have to see delivery, I saw results.”

A customer waited at the cash register, credit card in hand. Parris slipped away to settle the young man’s tab.

As moments passed in silence, he watched regulars pay their tabs, calling out their good nights. The bar grew quiet around them. Ty scrutinized Parris working. Her patrons loved her. An old man, sitting a few stools down, got a cab ride home, Parris giving the driver money out of the till.

When she’d sent her last customer on his way, locking the door behind her, she turned off the open sign. Parris placed a fresh bottle in front of Ty and filled her wine glass. Coming around the bar, she climbed on a stool next to him. “Now we’re alone, do you want to tell me why you said ‘not nice’ in our game?”

Ty grinned, keeping his gaze focused on the beer. “If you tell me why a sweet girl like you would wish me to miss a winning shot.”

Parris choked. “What makes you think that?”

Ty ignored her question, glancing up at her, he took in a breath. The woman was stunning. Being this close to her, he imagined taking her in his arms, pressing his lips hard against hers, tasting wine on her lips. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he tried to banish the vision.

He wiped a drop of wine off her full, red lips with his thumb. “Is wishing your opponent loses the secret to your wins? Not very sporting, I have to say.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Parris’ eyes darkened. Ty couldn’t tell if her reaction was based in anger, or desire. He hoped the latter.

“And you didn’t answer mine.” Twisting in his stool to face her, he opened his legs and without thinking, pulled her close and kissed her. A kiss he’d wanted to take since he’d walked in tonight. Parris didn’t resist, in fact, she melted toward him, her mouth hungrily seeking his, her body soft in all the right places, making him hard.

He abandoned her arms, instead caressing her back, strong, muscular. He circled around her body to find her breasts, soft and firm. Her mouth slackened as he held the round orbs in his hands, thumbs seeking nipples. At the right spot, she groaned.

Slowly, he pulled back. He dropped his hands to his sides, regretfully leaving her soft, luscious breasts. Pulling away, ending the kiss.

Parris stood in front of him, dazed. Quickly, she followed his lead, sitting on her stool. She laughed a low, growly sound making him regret pulling back. “Wow, you could have just answered my question.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Ty said words he didn’t mean.

“Drunk sex happens. Don’t worry,” Parris responded lightly, appearing to try to match his mood.

Ty knew he wasn’t drunk. He needed to know this woman more. Losing himself in her wouldn’t be seen favorably by The Council. He took a breath. “How’d you wind up here? Owning a bar?”

Parris smiled, apparently choosing to ignore the elephant. “After graduating college with an English degree, I drifted one job to the next, not loving my choices. When I was substituting at the middle school, I came here with a group of teachers for a girl’s night out. I struck up a conversation with George, the last owner.”