Page 58 of The Price of Love

“Just pour them all in?”

“You’re a natural.” I try to smile, but it’s forced.

“So what’s your compromise?” she asks as she rips open the package of M&M’s and pours them in with the coconut.

“We could wait for them in the parking lot. Make it look like I’m talking to a neighbor.”

Storm grabs the front of her cut. “Should I take this off?”

Her words take me by surprise. “I’d never ask you to do that.”

She smiles and begins unbuttoning her vest. “You don’t have to.” She removes it and carefully folds it. Since I’m not a Thorn, I’m not allowed to touch it, so I don’t offer. She carries it to the table and sets it down with reverence.

“How long before they get here?” she asks.

I glance at the microwave clock. “Ten…fifteen minutes.”

“Then let’s finish up and get downstairs.”

We’d not been sitting on the bench outside for long when a black sedan pulls into the apartment complex. It sticks out from the older and cheaper cars in the lot.

“I think they’re here,” Storm says.

The car pulls up in front of us, and a large man emerges. The tinted windows are too dark for me to see inside. “Ellen. Ellen Stewart?”

I jump up from the bench. “That’s me. Do you have my girls?” Seeing him makes me fearful for them. This mountain of a man likely scared them to death.

He smiles, and he doesn’t seem as imposing, but still his biceps are as big around as Nora’s waist. “Nora and Leah. They’ve been the most charming riders I’ve driven.”

“Are they okay?” I know I shouldn’t have said it, but I don’t care if I offend him. I feel Storm move closer to me, but I keep my eyes on him.

His smile broadens, and he puts his hand against his chest. “I know how I look, but trust me, the girls are fine. We had a fabulous time.” He moves around the car and puts his hand on the door handle. “Me and my husband want kids, and hopefully, they’ll be as great as yours.” He opens the door.

Nora and Leah tumble out and wrap their arms around his legs. He gives me a little shrug. “We’ve been singing.”

“If you’re happy and you know it,” Leah belts out, and Nora joins her.

“Clap your hands,” the driver says, and all three clap.

When the sound of clapping comes from beside me, I whip my head around and see Storm clapping. I can’t help but laugh and join in.

CHAPTER 25

DIMPLES

It’s just Storm and me riding to the lodge where we’ll hold Casino Night tomorrow. The Graces’ poker run was three weeks ago, and Storm’s been lost in her own world since. I haven’t had the heart to push her about Frost’s bullshit because she’s happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. She’s been talking to Shadow a lot, keeping it on the down low, but I know her too well not to have figured it out.

When we pull onto Route 30/Highway 3, Storm and I make an unspoken pact to ride slow. We’ve traveled this two-lane road together so many times it’d be easy to go on autopilot, but we don’t since the beauty of the mountainous route never disappoints.

I take in the earthy scent of the damp soil and pine needles. It’s one reason I love riding; being in a car isn’t the same, even with the windows down. We ride through a heavily forested stretch and hit a cool pocket of air and then speed up, wanting to escape the cold dampness.

Once we get to an open area, the sun warms us. The view of the mountain peaks engulfed by clouds reminds me why there’s nowhere else I’d want to live. Sometimes I question it in the depths of winter, but every spring, why I love this area becomes clear again.

We’re in no hurry to get to the Velvet Rose Lodge. That’s what we named the abandoned hunting lodge we converted into our gaming house. Aces bought it for a song fifteen years ago. Most of the labor, getting it into shape came from the Thorns.

We come to the fork where Route 30 heads north, but we continue east on Highway 3. The Velvet Rose is fifteen minutes from our clubhouse, which is near enough in case of an emergency but far enough to keep our clubhouse hidden from the gamblers. Plus, it’s closer to Lake Placid, where the bulk of our players come from. We never invite locals, only tourists.

In the early days, before my time, they held casino nights at the clubhouse, but letting gamblers into the Thorns’ sanctuary nearly destroyed it. One of the players developed an unhealthy obsession with one of the girls and started stalking her. We taught him that no means no, but it still shook the club. It’s why Aces moved all the Thorns’ businesses offsite.