"Do it again!" Noah said. He was absolutely astonished and didn't try to hide it. "That was luck!"
A big group of us, ten or fifteen people, had just gone outside to try out Jesse's target.
Wes made a dismissive noise at his cousin's accusation about luck. "Luck nothin', chief. The girl's got skill. I told y'all that. She knows what she's doing."
"I can't get it to stick from this far back," Jesse said, shaking his head at me. We were more than fifteen feet from the target. That's where I had thrown from the first time.
"Do it again," Noah said.
Jesse had bought a nice set of throwing knives. I had never used that brand before, but I liked their weight and knew, based on my first throw, that they would behave similarly to my favorite set.
"This is my favorite no-spin method," I said, talking to Daniel. I demonstrated a sidearm technique, landing the knife right in the middle of the target. I took a few steps forward, explaining to them that it was easier to start closer to the target so that the knife didn't have time to over rotate.
Jesse had twelve knives, so I fired off the remaining ten of them, throwing quickly, but giving little helpful tidbits about form and delivery between each release. It was a matter of muscle memory for me. I was completely at home with steel knives and a wooden target to catch them—so much that I didn't even realize everyone was standing around gawking at me until I threw the last knife and turned around to look at all of them. The guys laughed and hi-fived Wes as if congratulating him for something.
"What the heck did we witness just now?" Courtney was the first one to speak, and her question made me glance at her. She stood there holding Kip and looking at me like she had never seen anything so curious in her life. "I saw one of your videos, but I didn't realize—it's just so different to see you do that in person."
Everybody kind of spoke at once, talking over her and talking to each other about how crazy it was that someone could do that. I even heard Wes tell someone I had inspired an old lady on the plane who would probably end up on America's Got Talent one day. I had to smile as I went to retrieve the knives out of the board.
A few who were standing around said they wanted to try it for themselves. For the next hour or so, everyone took turns. They laughed and made fun of each other but it was in a sweet, encouraging way that made me realize that this family could have fun doing anything.
I did my best to give them tips as they tried to make the knives stick into the board. Aside from Jesse, Owen, and Daniel (who had already had some practice at it) everyone was pretty much a disaster. Ivy actually wasn't too bad considering that she hadn't been practicing as much her dad and brothers.
After a while, the excitement died down. Shug went inside to help Rose clean the kitchen, Courtney headed inside with Kip, and Darcy went in with her to rest her aching back. Jane, Taylor, and Ivy stayed out there with me, and so did most of the boys since their competitive natures caused them to constantly want 'one more try'.
"Can you do other stuff?" Liam asked me after he took another turn. Before I could ask him what he meant by that he added, "Does this translate to other things? Can you use a bow and arrow? Shoot a gun? Are you good at targets in general?"
"Darts," Wes said. "She's amazing at throwing darts."
"Darts?" Taylor asked, chiming in. "I love playing darts."
"You do?" Liam asked, like this was something he didn't know about his wife.
"Sure," she said. "Who doesn't love playing darts?"
"I sure do," Ivy added.
"We have a dart board in the shed," Jane said. "I saw it in there just the other day."
Liam shook his head. "Mom, that's not a real dartboard."
"Yes, it is," she said. "I just saw it in there."
"I know, but if it's that same one I had when I was a kid, it's not what they're talking about. It's just a toy. I think it's magnetic or maybe even suction cup."
Everyone laughed.
"It's not suction cup!" Jane said, defending herself while laughing along with us.
"Let's go to Heavy Dave's," Liam suggested.
"That's a pool hall," Owen said.
"Yeah, but they've got a bunch of dartboards. Nice ones. They have tournaments and stuff."
"Dart tournaments?" Ivy asked.
"There are tournaments for everything," Jesse said.
Liam and Taylor both said they were up for going to Heavy Dave's to throw darts. Ivy agreed that she wanted to go, but everyone else said they'd pass. She gave them all a hard time, telling them they were either too old, tired, or pregnant to have any fun.
Wes and I were both tired from the trip, but we decided to go anyway. We made plans to go at 8:30, which gave us another hour to finish hanging out with everyone.
Wes drove his dad's truck, and Ivy rode with us. Liam and Taylor followed us in their vehicle because they had plans to go home afterward. All three of us sat in the front seat of the truck. I quite liked that it had a bench seat so that I could sit next to Wes while he was driving. My hands were resting on my lap, and he reached over and grabbed one of them, lacing his fingers gently in mine.
His touch was gentle and loving, and the way he moved and touched my hand caused my chest to swell. I looked at our hands, at the place where our bodies connected, wondering how in the world he could affect me this way. His hand and arm was so much bigger than mine with muscles, calluses, and hair in all the right places, and the sight of that rugged masculinity holding me so tenderly caused me too have all sorts of feelings. He was only holding my hand, for goodness sake, and I could hardly breathe.
I was swept away by Wes Bishop—head over heels, captivated, enchanted, utterly enamored. I wanted him to keep holding me and never ever let me go. To my delight, it seemed as though he felt the same way. He held my hand the whole time he drove and then he didn't let go of me once we got there.
I was comforted by the atmosphere in Heavy Dave's. It was crowded and dark in there, but it was clean and it wasn't smoky. Classic rock music was coming through the speakers. They were playing a song called Slow Ride, which made our entrance feel a bit like we were starring in a movie. The song and atmosphere were both so perfect that I caught myself imagining us all walking in slow motion swagger.
Liam was right. Heavy Dave's had some nice dartboards. There were what must've been six or eight of them around the room, and we had no problem finding one that was open. We found a few stools and some of us sat while others took warm-up shots.
We decided that I would play against Ivy and Taylor for the first round. I played like a normal person, and by that I mean that I didn't try very hard. I had just done the whole knife throwing thing at Wes's parents' house, and I didn't really feel like drawing a bunch of attention to myself.
Wes, having amazing social skills, picked up on what I was doing and didn't mention once that I was playing below my ability. I didn't completely stink it up or miss the board or anything like that, but I also didn't win the game. Ivy did. She was actually quite good for someone who only played every so often.
I thought the others might give Wes a hard time for saying how good I was at darts and then me not backing it up, but they didn't do that at all. Everyone was really sweet, and it was obvious that we were just there to have a good time.
"Who's my next victim?" Ivy said, rubbing her palms together.
"I'll play again," Taylor said.
"I'll play," Liam agreed.
Wes and I could have joined them, but we both decided that we would watch the next round.
"I’m going to use the restroom," Wes said, mostly talking to me since the others were playing.
He walked away, and I smiled inwardly, thinking I couldn’t wait until he got back. The song Tuesday’s Gone was playing, which added to the feeling of missing him even though he was only going to the restroom and would be back in a minute.
I glanced his way. I was expecting to have a view of his back as he retreated to the hallway, but I noticed that he had turned around and was looking over his shoulder. I smiled at him, and with a flick of his head, he motioned for me to follow him. I gave him a questioning expression, and he made that same motion with his head, urging me to follow him.
"I’ll be right back," I said.
I quickly made my way to the other side of the room and found the hallway where Wes had disappeared—the one that led to the restrooms. Right at the front of the hallway, there were doors with little male and female stick figures that indicated the restrooms.
Wes was not standing anywhere near these doors. He was way down at the end of the hallway. There was another door down there, and I watched as he peered out of the little window as if checking out what was on the other side. Based on the looks of it, it seemed like it led outside—to the parking lot, maybe.
It was pretty dark in the hallway, but I had no problem seeing his face and could easily tell that he was grinning at me as I approached. He stood casually with his hands in his pockets, looking me over.
"I saw you out there," he said.
"Oh yeah?"
"That was my little sister you were playing at darts."
I came to stand near him at the end of the hall. We stood face to face, Wes leaning against one wall while I leaned against the other. He looked me over with an appraising stare. He was pretending he didn’t know me, and the rush of it all caused a tingling sensation to happen inside my body.
"The girl with the dark hair, or the blonde?" I asked, playing along.
"The blonde," he said. "The one that beat you. They’re both here with me, though. The blonde is my sister, and the brunette’s married to my cousin."
I nodded in understanding. "They were both really nice," I said.
Wes took a step toward me, leaning against my side of the hall with one arm, and kind of blocking my way so I couldn't go back into the pool hall without going around him. His proximity took my breath away. I took an unsteady breath as I stared up at him.
"Well, it was nice meeting you," I said, moving like I was attempting to leave, and continuing the charade by pretending to be shy and unassuming.
"We didn’t meet yet," he said.
"I’m sorry," I said. I stuck out my hand. "Jolene. Jolene Wright."
"Wes Bishop," he said. "It’s nice to meet you, Jolene."
"You too."
"I couldn’t help but notice that you let my sister beat you at darts in there."
"What makes you say that?" I asked, looking genuinely confused.
He shook his head. "I don’t know. I could just tell you threw the game."
"Nooo," I said, pretending not to know what he was talking about. "She beat me fair and square."
"You know what’s hot?" he asked.
"What?"
"Being so good at something that you have the confidence to pretend you’re not good at it."
"You think that’s hot?" I asked.
He nodded. He stared at me with an unreadable expression. "How’d you wind up in Memphis?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Is that where I am?"
He stepped closer to me. I stood with my back against the wall, and he came closer and closer by the second—invading my space. I knew he wanted to kiss me. I knew he was going to do it.
"Are you lost?" he asked.
"I guess so," I said.
"Who are you here with?"
"No one," I said.
"I thought for sure you’d have a boyfriend."
"I do," I said.
He shook his head, making a face of disappointment. "That’s too bad," he said.
"Oh no, it’s not bad at all," I said. "You wouldn’t say that if you met him. He’s awesome. You’d really like him."
"What’s his name?"
"Wes."
"Wes who?"
"Wes Bishop."
"That’s my name," he said, sounding amazed.
"What? Are you serious?"
"Yes. I just told you that a minute ago."
"You did?" I asked. "That’s so weird. You have the same name as my boyfriend."
Wes stood even closer, really crowding my space. He was so close that my face was only inches from his neck. I could tell, by the rise and fall of his chest, that the pace of his breathing had sped up. He wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted him to do it. He was going to do it before we left this hallway—I just knew it. Expectancy flowed through me, causing my blood to feel warm.
"Jolene," he said, dropping the charade.
"What?"
"You let Ivy beat you at darts."
"I know," I whispered. "She’s so sweet. I love your family."
"Hey, Jo."
"What?"
"I never want you to leave my side."
"Me neither."
"I wanna be your man."
I smiled. "I want you to."
"So, marry me."
"Okay."
"I mean it."
"Me too," I said.
"I’m serious."
I grinned. "I am too."
"Let’s move to Memphis and have babies and ride motorcycles."
"Okay," I said. I nodded calmly even though I felt like I was going to shiver out of control—like my whole body might just take off and shoot into outer space as if there was a rocket pack strapped to my back.
"I think I’m gonna make an album," Wes said. "I might tour some and try the music thing for a while."
"I know," I said. "I heard you talking to Shug and Courtney about it earlier while I was playing with Kip."
"I want you to come with me. I don’t want you to think I’m asking you to move from London to Memphis just so I can leave you here while I go out on the road. I want you to go where I go and do what I do."
I nodded. "I want that too."
"Are you going to be okay leaving London?"
"Yes," I said with no hesitation. I stared at him. I was thinking, "I’m fine being anywhere as long as it’s with you," but I didn't say it.
"Jolene?"
"What?"
"Your mouth."
"What about it?" I thought for a second that maybe something was the matter with it, so I reached up to touch it, but Wes stopped me, gently grabbing my hand and pulling it down.
"I’m going to kiss it, baby girl."
My heart stopped beating. My whole body got tingly and my knees felt weak.
"You are?" I whispered, staring at his mouth—his wonderfully formed, gorgeously curved mouth.
"Yes, I am," he said, staring right back at mine.
Both of us were going crazy with desire—it was obvious by the way our gazes were fixed intently on each other and the way we held onto fist-fulls of each other's clothing. Wes was barely maintaining control, and knowing that made me feel like I would lose it myself.
"What are you waiting for?" I whispered.
And then it happened. Wes leaned against me, pinning me against the wall as he lowered his mouth to mine. His mouth was perfect, warm and soft. His body pressed against mine, holding me firmly in place as he let his mouth touch mine again and again. I went limp, relishing the feeling of being supported by Wes's weight against me. Again and again he placed sweet kisses on my mouth—one after another in a swift but sweet repetitive pattern like he just couldn’t get enough.
Finally, I reached up, placing my hand on the back of his head and lacing my fingers through his hair. I pulled him closer, encouraging him, letting him know I wanted more. Wes gave me what I was asking for. He kissed me deeply. He told me he wanted to be my man, and he proved it with this kiss. I opened my mouth to him, and he kissed me like he meant it—like he had never, ever kissed another woman the way he was kissing me right then. It was a true exchange. It felt as though our bodies became one as he poured passion and love into me with every rhythmic movement.
I forgot about the song that was playing. I forgot we were standing at the end of a hallway in a public place. I forgot his family was in the other room, waiting for us to return. I forgot we were in Memphis. I forgot everything—everything except Wes Bishop and his kiss.