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“You guys are something else,” Doyle said a couple hours later, once we’d made it through our first two hands of the game. “Shark diving?” he rubbed his thinning hair. “Never thought I’d ever do something like that.”
“That’s the point,” Ethan said with a predatory smile. He’d made his dislike of Doyle pretty fucking obvious. “To get in the water with the very things trying to kill you and then tell them to fuck off.”
Doyle scoffed and rearranged his cards. All two of them.
I’d already picked up an apartment in Tokyo and lost a guest appearance at whatever fundraiser Gareth was throwing next.
But I didn’t care, because I had Daisy in my lap, sipping on a glass of champagne as she peeked at my cards.
“Stop wiggling your ass like that or we’re not going to make it through this hand,” I warned her in a whisper, nipping at her earlobe. “I can’t concentrate with you rubbing up against my cock.”
“I’d hate to distract you,” she whispered back with a smile as Doyle laid the fourth card on the board, giving me a straight.
“So what’s the most valuable chip you guys have ever seen at this table?” Doyle asked.
We all shared a glance, and Gareth settled deeper into his chair.
“A favor,” Weston answered, throwing his bid in. Guess we were on a property streak this go-round, since I’d put up my beach house in Amalfi, and he’d just tossed in a house in Scotland I hadn’t even known he’d owned.
“What kind of favor?” Doyle asked, his beady little eyes glancing at Daisy. Seems like we’d jumped out of the shark cage but brought one of the predatory fuckers with us.
“The kind where you get to call in whatever you need whenever you need it,” I said. Daisy kissed me on the cheek and slid off my lap, heading toward the couch where Brynn was currently lounging behind me.
Doyle’s brows shot up and a shrewd look came over his face as he glanced around the table, skipping over Gareth.
“It’s only happened once or twice.” Ethan tossed in his bid.
“Asher got one from me,” Weston chimed in. “Which resulted in myself and a lot of my players showing up at a charity date auction.”
“Hey, that charity date auction was the best thing that ever happened to your quarterback,” I countered with a tight smile. Shit, I missed being able to relax, but Doyle had every sense on alert.
“True,” Weston grinned as Doyle tossed in another bid. “So if Harper ever marries Nathan, would that make Nixon your brother-in-law?”
“It would make him my sister’s brother-in-law.” If that ever happened. “But not mine.”
“You’d trust each other with a blank favor?” Doyle asked, his brow puckering.
“Yep,” Crosland answered.
“That has to be honored?” Doyle got a calculating look in his eyes.
“Well. Yeah.” Weston nodded. “We keep our word, otherwise this all has no meaning. We bid a house and lose it, then we have to sign it over. We bet an action or take a dare? We fulfill it. Besides, it’s not like any of us are over here calling someone up to bury a body.”
I scoffed. “There was that time you made Crossland break up with your girlfriend for you,” I reminded him.
“That was more like taking a bullet.” Cross smirked.
“And what happens if you don’t honor a chip?” Doyle asked.
“We kill you,” Gareth deadpanned.
Every head turned toward him.
“He’s kidding,” Weston quickly said, shooting Gareth a WTF look.
Gareth rolled his eyes.
The hand went on and Crossland raked in the chips—beating my straight with his flush–but there was no disguising the side-eye Ethan gave Doyle every time the asshole opened his mouth.
“You guys ever put players on the table?” Doyle asked.
“Keep trying to get Asher to give Briggs back to me so I can see a little more of my sister,” Crossland answered sarcastically, throwing in the blind.
“Never. You let him go. I snapped him up.” I shrugged.
“Alas, we’re just not up for treating people like commodities around here,” Ethan snapped.
“You got a problem with me, Berkeley?” Doyle countered, his tone sharpening.
“I don’t know you well enough to have a fucking problem with you,” Ethan retorted. “Do I have an absolute problem with you asking if we bet our players like they’re pieces of property? Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Doyle turned tomato red. “It was just a goddamned question.”
Serenity stood from her seat behind her father and walked around the table to join the other girls on the couch. My stomach pitched as I wondered if she’d had practice putting herself out of reach when her father’s temper spiked. It hadn’t escaped my notice that her hair was pinned up this game, but was that to avoid any mishaps like she’d had with Gareth the last game? Or pure coincidence? Then my eyes flared as I noticed Gareth…noticing.
His eyes tracked Serenity’s movements, then darted back to Doyle and his bodyguards.
