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"He’s right, ya know. You sure you didn’t stack the deck?"
"If I did, don’t you think I’d have won every hand tonight?"
His owlish blink would have been cute if dark and moody wasn’t my thing. "Seeing conspiracies everywhere," he grumbled under his breath. "Right, night you two." He squinted at his watch and groaned. "See you in a few hours."
As he strolled out, I gathered my winnings together, purring at the sight of all the lovely money I’d earned tonight. Then, when I cast a look at Aidan, I saw his gaze was on me and those fucking fingers were deep in that slit.
I gulped.
This shouldn’t have been so hot.
Why was it so hot?
"You’re bad for my IQ levels," I groused.
"Had worse complaints in my time," he said dryly before he scissored his fingers.
I bit my lip, but surged to my feet, only to sink between his legs in front of him.
As I peered up at him, I wondered what it was about him that made him so impressive. It wasn’t just his position. Men were born to power all the time, but they didn’t always command a room. They didn’t always suck the air out of a space whenever they walked into it.
He was there, legs splayed, finger fucking his jeans, a glass of whiskey held loosely in his hand now he’d put down his cellphone, sitting in a paisley-patterned armchair as if he were a king in a throne.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I rocked forward and placed my hands on his thighs. One covered his, to cease the teasing, and the other just rested on the denim.
"You stacked the deck, didn’t you?"
I tipped my head to the side. "In a poker game, who do you owe loyalty to?"
His smile appeared, widening as he considered me. "My grandfather would have called you canny."
I blinked. "Should I consider that a compliment?"
He nodded. "You really should." He took a sip of his whiskey, then placed the glass down on the table beside him.
In the ultra feminine space that was this second family room, dominated by floral patterns in the curtains, sofa, and even the paintings on the wall, he looked more aggressive. Hyper-masculine in a way that made me melt.
"I like your brothers," I told him softly.
"Not enough not to cheat them," he said with a laugh, his fingers coming to my nose to tweak it. Why that made me squirm, I had no idea.
"I didn’t stack the deck. Poker is a game of statistics, and I’m damn good with statistics. Better than them apparently." I pouted. "You’re going to tell them, aren’t you?"
"No," he teased. "I’m just never going to play poker with you."
"Not even if it’s strip poker?"
"That I could get behind if it wasn’t me doing the stripping," he said wryly.
"I could figure out a way to even the score." I shot him a measured look. "How about that?"
He smiled. "I could be down for that. Not tonight though. You’d win without me doing much. It’s been another long day."
It really had, and that he admitted that to me was everything.
I bit my lip and whispered, "It’ll be okay, Aidan."
"Will it? I’m not so sure." He shook his head as he traced his fingers along the line of my jaw. "I was hoping Ma would bounce back. She’s manic so she can do that."
