It was completely out of the blue so I figured he must have been thinking about how he lost hand after hand to me. Didthat bother him? Maybe. Would I be glad if it did? Kind of. “Second rule of poker—never play with scared money.”
“Scared money?”
“Yeah, money you can’t afford to lose. Besides never having the time to play, if I lost, we wouldn’t eat. Playing scared leads to bad decisions, and before you know it, you’re living on the streets giving twenty-dollar blow jobs so you can buy crack.”
He laughed and said I could probably charge thirty, then asked what the first rule of poker was.
“That’s easy. Let them underestimate you because you’re a girl.”
He thought about that for a long moment before he responded sheepishly with, “I did that, didn’t I?”
“You sure did. I never did thank you for all those chips.”
He sighed. “I guess you’re welcome. I still want you to teach me how to play sometime.”
I told him I would.
As we drive through town, I catch a few women raising an eyebrow at Riggs. I know all too well how this will go. Within the hour, everyone will know I was with a new guy, and they’ll all want to know who he is. I can only imagine the rumors, especially about me being in Vegas when Mom passed away and then showing up with a man who looks this good.
Sure as hell, they’ll start speculating, and some people have pretty active imaginations. And speaking of such people, I spot the Jam Squad. They’re walking their little dogs, wearing big sunglasses, ruby-red lipstick, vintage polka-dot midi dresses—each a different color, of course—and carrying matching polka-dot handbags at the elbow withice-cream cones in their free hands. So typical. You could expect older women to dress like that, but these women are only a year older than me.
“See those four women?”
“The ones who look like they just stepped through a time portal from the 1950s? What’s up with that?”
“It’s part of their brand. We call them the Jam Squad. Remind me to tell you about them later.”
“Sounds interesting.”
We pull into our driveway just as Josh and Keegan are loading their fishing gear into the back of Keegan’s seven-hundred-dollar truck. The Dodge Ram is like a two-hundred-pound pitbull sitting next to a two-pound poodle that was just neutered. I didn’t give my brothers a heads-up about when I’d be home, and I certainly didn’t tell them I was bringing a friend.
Josh’s jaw drops as he stares at the truck while Keegan flashes me his usual glare when I step out of the passenger side.
I’m pissed. “Maybe you didn’t hear, but Mom died.”
“We know,” Josh barks at me with so much anger I’m taken aback. How could he not understand that I’m hurting too?
I don’t blame him for going fishing with a case of beer at a time like this. He only does what Keegan tells him to. No, I blame the younger thoughtless prick.
“What’s it to you?” Keegan spits at me. “You weren’t even here.”
That pushes me over the edge. “Really? You can’t be serious? Who’s been taking care of her day in and day out? Who’s the only one who’s been here for her? Do you even care that she’s gone?” I eye the fishing poles then let my gazefall to the cooler full of beer. “Because it sure doesn’t look like it.”
“Shut your bitch mouth and stay out of our—”
Suddenly, he cuts off with a wide-eyed stare as his mouth falls open. I’m not sure what just happened until I realize Riggs stepped up beside me. Then, perhaps to drive home whatever point Mr. Big Dick here intended to make, my boyfriend claims me by putting his arm around my shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, just grins at Keegan. The only other time I’ve seen a grin like that was right before Zane Shackler broke Jake’s jaw, and from the look on Keegan’s face, I think he correctly interprets the big man’s nonverbal threat.
“It’s you,” Josh mutters.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, he knows who Riggs is? Of course he does.
“You’re Riggs Dwyer,” Keegan finally says. “Is Ash here?”
Riggs’s grin softens. “No, he couldn’t make it. What are you fishing for?”
Josh swallows hard. “Bass. They stock the gravel pit every year.”
“Gravel pit, huh? Can’t say I’ve ever fished in one of those. Sorry about your mother. Must be rough.”
