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“Did the nurses teach you some mad skills while you were in the hospital?”
Tom shook his head. “Nope.”
“I think I’m safe, then.”
The doorbell rang.
Daddy dashed into the living room, and Tom’s impish grin grew. “I think you should answer that. I need to sit d . . . down.”
My men were behaving oddly, but okay, I would answer the door since it was my house. I sauntered over to the door, expecting to find the pizza guy delivering contraband, which I would have to refuse. No empty, greasy calories tonight. Instead I opened the door only to gasp and choke on my own saliva. I began coughing and sputtering while Brooks stood there looking like he was posing for GQ, leaning on the doorframe in his tailored dark suit with a smolder to melt my insides.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I slapped my chest several times, trying to get my coughing fit under control. The answer was, no, I wasn’t okay. I was about to slam the door on him when he walked in without an invitation, kissed my cheek, and whispered in my ear, “I love that shirt. I have no doubt you’re magically delicious.”
That stopped the choking, but now I couldn’t breathe.
“Shall we play cards?” He strutted past me, smiling at the bouquets he’d sent me that I’d placed on the entryway and sofa tables. Oh man, did he smell divine. No. No. No. I wasn’t going to be taken in by him and his sexy ways.
My brain finally started functioning. Boy, did he have a lot of nerve. I wanted to kick Brooks’s tight butt out of there, even though it was a heavenly sight. Holy crow. “Why are you here? I don’t remember inviting you.”
“Darlin’, I did,” Tom rang in with a joviality I hadn’t heard from him in forever. He was so happy it gave me some pause.
Brooks loosened his tie and took off his jacket like he intended to stay for a while. This was not in my plans. Where was this Brooks twenty years ago? Heck, even a month ago? Now, though, I knew too much. That was a good thing, right? I steeled myself as I walked past the infuriating man, totally prepared to stick to my guns. Some flowers, a beautiful card, and a few flirty words weren’t going to sway my resolve.
I took my seat at the card table and realized there were four glasses of water, which meant my daddy had betrayed me too. He’d totally known Brooks was coming and didn’t tell me. I gave Daddy and Tom the evil eye. Both men had the audacity to laugh at me. I thought they were on my side.
Brooks sat to my right, closest to his daddy. “Father,” Brooks struggled to say.
I suppose father was better than Tom, but you could tell it still cut Tom. However, Tom rallied with a smile. “G . . . Good to see you, son.”
It wasn’t like I had expected father and son to automatically fix all that had been broken. There was a lot of water under their bridge that had to be waded through. I would at least give Brooks props for coming, even if it tortured my soul.
“What are we playing tonight?” I decided to get the show on the road so I could get Brooks out of the house and my life. Though I had a feeling he was going to make both difficult.
“Why don’t we let Brooks decide,” Daddy offered.
I refrained from rolling my eyes.
“How about five-card draw?” Brooks responded.
“Amateur.” I played with my chips.
Daddy and Tom chuckled while Brooks hit me with his enigmatic eyes. “Would you like to up the wager, then?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I happen to have scored two front-row seats to the Rick Springfield concert next month.”
No freaking way! I shouted in my head. On the outside, I remained calm, cool, and aloof. “How nice. I have tickets too.”
“Yes, but are they in the front row?”
I rubbed my neck, seriously salivating for those tickets. “No.”
Brooks leaned in, giving me a taste of his minty breath. “How’s this? If you win, I’ll give you the tickets. If anyone else at this table wins, you go with me.”
Oh, that was so dirty. Like sexy dirty, but still rotten. I internally debated. I was a good poker player, and five-card draw was like a child’s game. Yet skill was such a small part. It was mostly luck. And it was me against three of them. But, I really, really wanted those tickets.
I sat up tall and straightened my shirt. “Okay, fine, but you’re going to have to win if you want me to go with you.” It wouldn’t mean anything if we went together. We would drive separately, and I would ignore him while I sang every single song and prayed Rick Springfield would reach down and touch me. Maybe pull me up on the stage and serenade me with “Jessie’s Girl.”
