Page 12 of Protect My Heart

I chuckle. “Guess I’m not very good at this,” I say.

“It’s alright, Sweet Cheeks, we’ve got you.” Helen says.

“What do you do, Fletch?” Gladys asks.

“I’m a fireman. Work at the station here in town.”

“Oh, you’re that fancy pants one from the big city,” one of the other ladies says. Maybe she was Wanda?

“I don’t know about being fancy, but I did move here from Houston. I miss my family, but that big city never did feel like home to me.”

“That’s because she wasn’t there,” another woman says.

“Mabel, you’re such a romantic,” Gladys says.

“I lived it,” Mabel says with a wistful smile. “God rest Harry’s soul.”

Two of the women cross themselves and murmur a “God rest his soul.”

Someone yells “BINGO!” and that round ends.

“That old cow always wins,” Helen grumbles.

Daphne walks over to the table against the far wall to check the numbers on the woman’s card. “It’s a BINGO for Ms. Evans,” Daphne says.

Everything shuffles on the table as the ladies get out the next round of cards. Again, Helen pushes two over to me.

“Everyone ready for the next round?” Daphne asks.

I glance up and meet her gaze across the room and there it is, like a hit of dopamine, my brain reacts to the charge of her gaze.

Her cheeks grow pink as she looks down at the cage of BINGO balls.

“Your boyfriend is cute!” an old lady at the far table heckles out.

Daphne laughs out loud. “Yes, he is very cute.”

We go through another round and this time two of the ladies at my table win. As Daphne passes by to go back to the front of the room, her hand brushes across my shoulders. Just that one touch lights up my body.

If I ever get this woman alone, I’m going to spend hours worshiping her body. I know our chemistry will be explosive. My father always told me that I come from a long line of men being hit by the lightning bolt of love. I always thought it sounded pretty corny when he’d tell me the story growing up. But the truth is, that’s exactly what it felt like the first time I laid eyes on Daphne.

The next round starts and Helen pats my hand. “This is our round, Fletch. I can feel it.”

“Okay. I’ll do my best to stay vigilant,” I say with a grin. I arm myself with my fluorescent pink dabber and focus on the numbers on the cards in front of me.

I get into the rhythm of dabbing and trying to just hear the numbers and not get lost in the sound of Daphne’s voice.

“O-69!” Daphne calls.

“Ohhhh-69,” a chorus of old people all say in unison. It’s simultaneously unexpected and hilarious.

Daphne tsks into the microphone. “Y’all! In front of Fletcher?”

Everyone laughs, including me.

Then she calls the next number and I dab it. It takes a minute for my brain to take in the diagonal line dotted in.

“BINGO!” I yell.