Page 54 of New Orleans Rush

“If you’re looking to get uninvited to dinner,” Huxley said as he placed the frozen seafood in tepid water, “you’re making excellent headway.”

Fox took a lengthy pull on his beer. “I’m curious about the lack of coitus as well.”

Axel snorted.

Huxley narrowed his eyes at Fox. “You usually know this stuff before I do. You losing your touch?”

Fox shrugged.

“No. Seriously. Let’s hear more about the coitus.” Axel was having way too much fun.

Tired of dodging their inquiries, Huxley wiped his hands on a cloth and faced his obnoxious brothers. “Bea’s father is a gambling addict who screwed up her life. She’s sensitive to anything gaming related, my poker games included, so I suggested a waiting period. I’ll have enough cash to pay Trevor for his construction work after the next two games, then I’ll quit. Beatrice has agreed to go on a date after that.”

“And then there will be coitus?” Axel smiled around his beer bottle.

Huxley flipped him off.

Fox was less amused. “You sure that’s smart?”

“I’m sure it’s brilliant.”

Fox dragged a hand through his hair. Instead of his usual ponytail, the loose strands hit his shoulders. “Oliphant won’t let it go. If you walk out on a win and don’t let him challenge you, he’ll retaliate.”

“I can handle him.”

The hard lines of Fox’s face didn’t budge. “Isn’t that what Dad said before Oliphant defaced all his posters around town?”

That infuriating stunt had involved Oliphant printing mini penises and sticking them in their father’s two-dimensional hands. It had been childish and stupid. Oliphant had done it after losing his prized T. rex skull in that fated poker hand. As petty as the man was, he was in his forties now, not his twenties. He was a bratty coward, not a wannabe frat boy. Plus, Huxley had leverage. “He’s not a concern. I’m cutting ties with the group in two weeks.”

“And then there will be coitus!” Axel shouted his prediction…as Beatrice walked in.

Huxley swore under his breath.

She studied the trio. “Who’s having coitus?”

“Don’t,” he told Axel, seething.

Axel held up his hands in surrender, while cracking up.

Fox continued his unforgiving stare. His stern regard rankled Huxley. Fox’s mind reading wasn’t a mystical sixth sense. He excelled at deciphering tics and quirks, watching more than talking, which allowed him to sense moods and understand behaviors. His ability to predict action and reaction was uncanny. He still refused to enter the fortune-telling racket, due to their mother’s seedy business, but he was right more often than he was wrong.

This time he was wrong. Oliphant wouldn’t be a problem.

Huxley wouldn’t let the degenerate derail the tentative steps he’d taken with Beatrice. He’d promised her a date in ten days, and a date they would have. If he hadn’t been so intent on finding a middle ground with her, he’d have considered adding an extra game to lose his poker title. Losing meant he’d walk away from their games clean, no unwritten rule broken. To go to Beatrice now and explain he’d acted rashly and had forgotten to tack on another week, that he had to play another game, would be a deal breaker. The trust he’d gradually earned would disintegrate. It also didn’t matter. He had Oliphant by his proverbial balls and the man didn’t even know it.

He met Fox’s ticking jaw with a scowl of his own. Huxley looked at Beatrice, forced a smile, and said, “Axel was just bragging about all the women texting him now that he’s an exotic dancer.”

“Be jealous,” Axel said.

Huxley wasn’t remotely jealous. Not when Beatrice stood in his kitchen wearing heart-printed thigh-highs, a black skirt, and an off-the-shoulder pink top. Her exposed collarbones had him licking his lips. “How was the market?”

“Crazy busy.” She eyed the food and their uninvited guests. “Are we having a party?”

Axel kicked his booted feet onto the coffee table. “I’m the guest of honor. Feel free to spoil me.”

“Or kick him out,” Huxley suggested.

She glanced at the still-open front door. “Do we have room for one more?”