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“Doesn’t she always,” Garrett grumbles, his own stack looking fairly small.
“I don’t mind the competition,” Rhenn says, taking a drink of his beer bottle. His stack of chips is pretty hearty, and so is the stack in front of me.
“Did you know I was coming?” I ask, taking the chip from the top and throwing it in the pile.
Jensen just gives me a look and shakes his head.
“How was the date?” Free asks, picking up the five cards thrown in front of her.
“Date?” Samuel asks, turning to face me. “With who?”
Always the protective big brother.
“A guy from the gym,” I reply nonchalantly, picking up my cards and giving them a look. Two kings and a queen. Not bad.
“Does this guy have a name?” Jensen asks, throwing a chip in the middle of the table.
I follow suit, throwing my own to match, and reply, “Don’t most people have names?”
“Don’t we a wisenheimer. We may need to check this guy out,” he adds, asking for two cards.
“No need,” I reply, setting two cards down on the table too.
Rhenn is the dealer, so he tosses me two new ones as he makes his way around the table. “There’s always a need. We always check out who our sisters date,” Jensen says, picking up his two cards.
“You had me checked out?” Rhenn asks, looking up from his hand.
“Hell yes, we did,” Samuel says, looking across to the man dating our youngest sister.
“Anyway, you have nothing to worry about. It was one date,” I say, throwing more chips down on the table.
“Date?”
That voice.
My body responds instantly.
“Yep, our girl Harper had a date tonight,” Free answers in my place.
I glance up and find Latham standing in the doorway, his dark chocolate eyes boring into me. There’s an intensity to him tonight, one that has my body buzzing and my mind a little fuzzy. The way he’s watching me makes me squirm a little in my seat.
“Did she now?” he says casually, but his jaw is full of tension.
“Hottie from the gym. Big muscles. Bigger dick.” Samuel chokes on his beer at Free’s brash words, making her giggle.
I feel him towering over me, yet I refuse to look up. I keep my eyes trained on my cards, pretending to think about my next bet. “You’re in my seat,” Latham says low and huskily.
“I didn’t see your name on it,” I sass, throwing another chip in the middle when it’s my turn. “Call.”
Suddenly, I’m moving. Latham lifts me in the air as if I weigh nothing and sets me down on his lap. I freeze as soon as my ass makes contact with his thigh. His very hard, muscular thigh. Like the kind of thigh that makes girls everywhere swoon and turn into crazed sex fiends.
“My seat,” he growls in my ear, taking the cards from my hand. “Mine,” he adds as he splays his large hand across my lower back, his finger grazing over my ass. Suddenly, I’m not sure if he’s talking about the cards, the chips, or…me.
But do you know what I don’t do? Move.
I sit right there, my ass snuggled against the best thigh in the world, and watch as Latham commands the table with the hand I set up for him. He wins, of course, and motions for me to rake in his winnings. There’s a low hum in the air, and it feels a lot like sexual tension. It’s dark and dirty and makes my nipples tight in my bra. It also makes me acutely aware it’s the man I despise who makes me feel this way.
I just pray no one else notices.
