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Holding out his hands in exasperation, Jud said, “Luck’s gotta be my lady some time.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Tara said to a round of laughter. “What do you gentlemen want to play?”
Jesse looked to the guys. “What is she worst at?”
George gave him a droll stare. “Nothing.”
Jesse’s gaze got more appreciative with each new revelation, and Tara was quite enjoying it. “It’s true,” she said, thanking her dad for the millionth time for teaching her how to play poker—and play it well. Her nerd’s brain loved thinking through the statistics and odds of it all.
“Texas Hold ’em, then,” Jesse said. As Tara started dealing, he arched a brow. “So you have an encyclopedic knowledge of sunken ships, you’re a card shark, you worked SPECWAR, and you belong to a fight club?”
The reference to information she’d shared when they’d first met unleashed butterflies in her belly. “Yep.”
“Wait, you belong to a fight club?” Jud’s gaze cut up from his hole cards.
“It’s not really about the fighting,” she said. “But, yeah.”
Jud scratched his chin. “How’s a fight club not about fighting?”
Tara peeked at her cards, quite happy with her pocket kings. “It’s called Warrior Fight Club. It’s only open to veterans. They train us in MMA as a way to help people deal and adjust, post-service.”
George tilted his head. “Like a kind of alternate therapy?”
Heat filtered through Tara’s cheeks, even though it only took one look to know something bad had happened to her. “Yeah.” She laid down the three cards of the flop—a king, a three, and a ten. Annnd now she had trip’ kings. Excellent.
Sure enough, Jud glanced at
her throat. “Huh. Sounds cool. Anyone can come?”
Tara looked at him. “Yeah. You interested?”
They did a round of betting, and George folded. “When does it meet?” Jud asked.
She dealt the turn card, the three of diamonds, which created a pair of threes in the community cards. Tara now had a freaking awesome hand—a full house, kings over threes. “Saturday afternoons. And then a bunch of us usually go out to dinner.”
Jud bet aggressively, and Tara guessed he had the other king. The poor guy thought his two pairs were a winner. “Sure, I’m interested,” he said. “What d’ya say, Jesse?”
It was Tara’s turn to bet next, and she raised Jud’s bet.
“Fuck.” Jud glared at her. She just smiled.
Jesse shook his head. “I’m gonna let you two fight over that.” He folded his cards. “Sure, I’ll come check it out.”
Tara’s belly was back to doing loops again. She was actually excited to bring people she knew into the club, but it would mean even more time spent with Jesse. As it was, her body needed no convincing that she liked him, wanted him. Whether she should or not. “Great,” she said, dealing the river card after Jud met her bet.
The three of hearts—putting trip’ threes in the community cards.
Oh. Oh. In her head, she was yelling, You don’t want to do it, Jud!
But then, of course, Jud did it. “I’m all in.”
Tara’s poker face was good, so she sat calmly as he pushed his whole stack of quarters into the pot. Then he smirked at her so hard that she lost all her sympathy for him.
“Wow,” she said, grimacing down at her cards like she was really worried.
“No shame in bowing out gracefully,” Jud said.
Which was when Tara called his bet. “Read ’em and weep, Mr. Taylor.” She laid down her kings, revealing her full house, kings over threes.
