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“Thanks for inviting me to join you today,” Eve said, wading into the breach and including my family in her gratitude.
“Yes, Matty, I always appreciate your cooking,” Gwen added, piping up from the other end of the table. “Thanks for taking in us strays.”
My mom flipped a hand from her end of the table. “Pish posh, you’re not strays. Our table is always open to old friends.” She winked at me. “Andspecialfriends.”
Subtle, mom.
Eve shook with laughter beside me, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
I attacked my plate, focusing on enjoying my mother’s cooking, instead of responding to her matchmaking. The last thing I wanted was for Eve to feel uncomfortable.
Conversation turned to our upcoming play, before touching on local gossip. When everyone had pushed back from their empty plates, I helped Eve and Gwen clear and wash dishes while my dad packaged up the leftovers. When the table was cleared, my dad pulled the game bin out of the closet.
“Who’s ready for someMalarkey?” Nonna Gleason crowed, rubbing her hands together.
“I can see where you get it from,” Eve murmured in my ear. Even the simple graze of her lips against my ear sent a zing through me, making it hard to focus on her words.
Competitiveness. Right.
I cleared my throat, pleased when she threaded her fingers through mine.
The evening was full of catcalling and crowing as Nonna Gleason wiped the floor with us all, winning atMalarkeyandThree.
We took a break from games to eat pie, Eve wisely avoiding Nonna’s pumpkin pie in favor of my mom’s marionberry masterpiece. Most of the guests took their leave after dessert, until it was only family left. Gwen had volunteered to drive Nonna Gleason home, but Aunt Cassie and Uncle Ed hung back with my folks and Eve.
My dad rubbed his hands together. “Now, therealgame can begin.” He glanced at Eve. “You brought your stake?”
Slowly, she nodded, seeming surprised by the change in my dad. He’d been borderline checked out during the earlier games, seeming unconcerned with winners and losers. Pulling out the poker deck had flipped a switch in him. He shuffled and dealt the first hand.
“I’ve never played poker before,” Eve admitted, glancing from me to my family.
Eve had made a decent showing in the earlier games, holding her own with my competitive family, but it only took one round of poker to learn she was crap at bluffing. My tough girlfriend was a marshmallow when it came to serious subterfuge. She had a habit of tracing the tattoo on her left wrist when she was nervous, a sure tell.
My dad and I exchanged glances, a world of communication happening in a flash.
With a sigh, I resigned myself to losing.
Hand after hand, Eve walked away with the pot, looking thrilled as her stack of chips grew.
It pained me a little to throw the game, but her happiness meant more. When my bankroll ran dry, I threw my arm around Eve’s shoulders, snuggling in to help her. As excuses went, I’d give myself an A+. The move let me nuzzle behind her ear, whispering advice. I loved the way Eve shivered, clearly as affected as I was by our closeness. She grew more distracted, which oddly enough, helped her bluffing. Whether because my family was being kind, letting her win, or because my assistance actually made a difference, Eve ended up winning.
“Brady, I can’t believe I won!”
Eve’s eyes sparkled, and I hugged her close.
“Neither can we,” my mom muttered.
I held in my chuckle over her chagrin.
Eve and I made a powerful team. My family’s charity in letting her get an early lead had paid off in a win for us. And I had every intention of taking advantage of Eve’s good mood if she were up for it when we got home.
“Ready to go?” I asked softly.
We thanked my parents, saying our goodbyes to my aunt and uncle, before climbing into my SUV.
“Did you have fun?” I asked, reasonably certain I knew the answer.
“For sure. Your family is great, Brady. I really enjoyed today. Thank you.”
