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And then there was me.
Living at college and filling my life with people who had nothing to do with my family usually allowed me to hide that in the back of my mind, like something I didn’t want to remember. But now, being back home, I know there’s no way I’ll be able to avoid feeling that way again.
It’s a reminder that sometimes, those comfortable shoes were chucked in the back of the closet for a reason.
chapter four
Reid
“No cigars tonight,” Nick says as he walks through my front door, carrying a case of beer from Cedar Cider in one hand and the poker chip container in the other. “Claire says if I come home smelling like an ashtray again, I have to sleep in the guest room.”
I smirk at him, taking the beers and setting them on the counter. “There are worse things than wanting to sleep next to your wife.”
“I knew you wouldn’t call me a little bitch.”
Nick pats me on the back then cracks open one of the cans as I begin unloading them into the fridge.
“Not me. But tell that story to Teddy or Carlos and that’sexactlywhat they’ll call you.”
He chuckles and takes a long sip. “I guess we just won’t bring up the cigars, then.”
I laugh. “Sounds perfect.”
Once I’ve finished with the beer, we lug a folding table and a few chairs to the back deck and begin setting up. I’ve been part of this monthly poker night since Nick started it up five or six years ago, and I’m pretty sure I’ve only ever missed it two times. Once when a buddy from high school got married, and once when mydad died. That’s it, and I wouldn’tdareto miss on a month when it was my turn to host.
As a confirmed introvert, a night like thisshouldmake me break out in a cold sweat. The truth is if I thought about it too hard, I probablywouldbreak out in a cold sweat. But Nick is my best friend, and the rest of the guys who come—hisfriends, because I tend to keep to myself—are pretty easy to hang out with. Being around them doesn’t usually feel like work, so for whatever reason, this is one of the very few group things I enjoy doing. Especially because when I host and it’s a night like tonight, we get to play poker out on the deck with the lake in the background.
Brilliant.
Over the next twenty minutes, the group of guys who show up month after month for poker night begin arriving. Carlos and Brad, two guys who work for Nick’s construction company, arrive together carrying a stack of pizzas they picked up in town. Jeremiah has his phone to his ear and an irritable expression on his face. He’s only lived here for a few years and I can’t say I’m a big fan, so I’m thankful when he immediately steps out onto the deck and closes the door behind him to finish his conversation. My cousin Marie’s husband, Craig, shows up with two more boxes of beer—good man—and as we’re all standing around, eating pizza and drinking beer, Nick’s younger brother Teddy walks in looking stoned as hell.
Sunday poker nights are always kind of messy, but I wouldn’t have them any other way.
“Read ’em and weep, boys,” Teddy says an hour later, laying his cards down on the table to a chorus of groans. “Royal flush.”
“You know, one of these days, we’re going to figure out how you manage to get one of those almost every month.”
Brad says a variation of this at every poker night. Nobody has ever figured it out.
“Look, the poker gods have bestowed luck upon me in a way that defies reason. I’m not a cheat,especiallynot at poker.”
Nick snorts as he reaches out and collects everyone’s cards then begins shuffling. “That makes it sound like you cheat at other things.”
Teddy shrugs, giving us a devious look. “You can take what I said however you like.”
I roll my eyes and accept the hand Nick deals out, leaning back in my chair and chewing on my toothpick as I eye the new cards. It’s a dud, and I decide to stick with my ace of spades and chuck out the other four. Nick gives me new ones, and when I look at them, I chuckle. No better than the last ones I had. The odds are not in my favor tonight.
“Holy damn.”
I glance up at Jeremiah’s words, muttered under his breath, wondering what kind of hand he has. Which is when I realize he’s not looking at his cards. I follow his gaze, looking over to my left, and my stomach dips when I spot Busy stepping out onto her deck with Junie, wearing a bathing suit that cuts high on her hips and shows off that gorgeous peach of an ass.
I swallow thickly. Holy damn is right.
I’ve allowed myself a few moments to admire her figure over the past week or so since she moved in, but she was always fully clothed. Jean shorts, tank tops, and bare feet are her normal attire, but this is…like a daydream.
Busy drops her towel on the ground and tugs her thick blonde hair up into a messy bun at the top of her head, then bends over to help Junie with something, though I couldn’t say what if I was offered a million dollars.
My throat goes dry and I groan internally. When I glance around the table, I’m not surprised to find every man watching her.
