All In (6 page)

She gave him a dubious look. “
You
help
me
?”

“Sure. I can actually wield a pastry bag pretty well.”

“I’m impressed you even know what a pastry bag is.”

“Tony’s mom Claudia is really into gingerbread houses. I mean
really
into it. She even has a website dedicated to her creations. Anyway, when I was a kid we lived on the same street and every year she’d coerce me and Tony into helping. I pretended it was a pain, but I actually really liked it.”

“With experience like that, I guess you’re hired.”

His eyes lit with excitement. “Awesome. What’s my wage?”

“Your wage?” she said with a laugh. “Well, obviously you don’t need money…”

“No. Got plenty of that,” he said. Then he glanced down at her mouth and grinned. “But I’ll tell you what I
do
need.”

“What?”

“More kisses.” He stole a quick one. “From you.” He stole another. “Genuine Mariah kisses.”

“I didn’t know my kisses were that valuable.”

“Hell yes! In fact, they should be traded on the stock exchange.”

Mariah laughed, feeling happier than she had a right to be.

“I think seven kisses an hour oughta do it,” he said, his brown eyes warm and playful. “And I want a little payment in advance.”

Mariah laughed again as he pulled her close and collected half a day’s worth.

“What do you think of this?” Tucker asked Mariah. He gestured toward a fazzoletto vase that looked as if someone had captured tropical fish inside it.

They were in a specialty shop in the Grand Canal Mall attached to the hotel. Inside was an exquisite collection of Venetian glass and collectibles—everything from key chains to glass jewelry to hand-blown vases and figurines. Once she got a gander at some of the price tags, Mariah walked with her purse tucked under her arm so she didn’t inadvertently knock something over.

“Fazzoletto vases like this one are shaped by holding the glass upside down and gently folding in, like the handkerchiefs they’re named after,” said the shop girl.

“It’s gorgeous,” Mariah said. “If Tony’s the type of guy who gives flowers, then this is a great gift.”

“Oh yeah,” Tucker said with a chuckle. “When they fight, Rhonda’ll be getting apology flowers. The bigger the fight, the bigger the bouquet.”

“Tony sounds like a smart guy,” Mariah commented.

Tucker leaned against the display case and crossed his arms. “Yep. That’s because everything he knows about women, I taught him.”

“Oh brother,” Mariah said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a wonder you can walk upright with such a big head.”

Tucker joined in her laughter as two young women walked past, glancing at him oddly.

“Actually,” he said, “I can’t take credit for the apology flowers idea. That’s one of Bill’s Marriage Mandates.”

“Who’s Bill?” Mariah said, looking longingly at a millefiori silver pendant on display. With so many colors in it, she could wear it with practically anything. Too bad she didn’t have a spare seventy-five bucks.

“Tony’s dad. The DeLucas are the happiest couple I’ve ever seen. So whenever Bill drops these pieces of advice, I listen.” Tucker told the shop girl, “I’d like this wrapped for a wedding, please.”

When he pulled out his money to pay, Mariah bit back a gasp.

“Holy moly, do you always walk around with that much cash?” she asked him as he peeled four hundreds off an obscenely fat wad and handed them to the girl.

“In Vegas, yeah. That way I can be prepared if I see a game I want to join.”

“And what’s that?” she asked, pointing at a playing card tucked in with the cash.

“This?” He flipped the worn card so she could see it was a king of clubs. “This filled in a royal flush for me three years ago at a big tournament in Commerce. The only one I’ve ever gotten. I keep it for the memories and the luck,” he said, fingering a torn corner edge.

“Did you win that tournament?”

Tucker didn’t get a chance to answer, because the girls were back. One was a blonde with big hair and enough eye makeup to paint one of the frescoes in the hotel lobby. The other wore a formfitting top that ended about six inches above a navel pierced with a thick rod of silver. They brought with them an oppressive nebula of perfume that made Mariah think of opium dens and eunuchs with scimitars.

“Excuse me,” one of them said with a high-pitched giggle. “Aren’t you that poker player? Mr. Freeze?”

Tucker rubbed his nose and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“See? I told you,” the blonde said to her friend. Then she turned back to Tucker. “I’m Lindsay. I saw you win that thing in L.A. What was that? Like a million dollars?”

“Something like that,” Tucker replied offhandedly.

As the cashier returned with the vase, beautifully wrapped with white floral paper and a lace and ribbon bow, Mariah tried to think of something witty to say that would show these girls that Tucker wasn’t available right now, but before she could open her mouth Lindsay said in a more subdued voice, “If you’re not doing anything tonight, I’m having a little party. It would be just you, me and my best friend Jenn.” She slipped her arm around Jenn’s waist and gave her a kiss that was more than friendly.

Mariah couldn’t believe their nerve. She’d never wanted to physically assault anyone her entire life until this moment, but as the two girls sidled up to Tucker, the urge to shove them away from him was so strong she had to grip the edge of the counter and grit her teeth.

The sleazy bitches were lucky they were in a glass shop.

Tucker managed to extricate himself from their tentacles, shaking his head. “Gee, it’s nice of you to invite me, but I’ve got plans,” he said, picking up the wedding present. “You ready, Mariah?”

“More than ready,” she replied, trying not to growl.

Lindsay finally noticed Mariah’s presence and her black-rimmed, predatory eyes narrowed, but then with a shrug, she said, “Well, just remember, sometimes three’s not a crowd. Room 1546 if you change your mind.”

Seething, Mariah tried to walk out of the store at a normal pace. The very thought of Tucker jumping into bed with skanky bimbos like Jenn and Lindsay made her want to scream.

And that made her wonder if she was a skanky bimbo herself. Was she? She frowned as she and Tucker made their way back to the bank of elevators. She didn’t think so. She’d never thrown herself at him like those two had. She and Tucker had a
mutual
attraction.

“Sorry about that,” Tucker said over the beeps and bells of the slot machines.

“I don’t think they even knew your name,” Mariah said, still indignant.

“They probably didn’t.”

“Does that happen to you a lot?” she asked, feeling idiotic but needing to know anyway.

“Oh, every once in a while a woman comes on a little strong with me during a tournament. Especially if I’m winning. It’s pretty embarrassing. For them and for me.”

Upstairs in his suite, Tucker put the present on the counter of the wet bar. Beyond him, Mariah could see into the bedroom, and the sight of the unmade bed gave her an irrational, infuriating urge to stake her claim by having sex with him again, as if she needed to prove something.

She wondered if this was the influence of the wish.

But wish or no, she resisted. She may
have
these irrational feelings of jealousy and possession, but she didn’t have to act on them. When she and Tucker parted ways, she didn’t want him to think of her with a bad taste in his mouth. She wanted to be a memory he could look back on with fondness when he was old and crotchety. Just like
she
was going to, damn it.

As planned, Tucker went with Mariah to help her with the cake, but she brought him, not to a home kitchen like he’d expected, but to an honest-to-goodness store. Chocolate Fantasies was in a corner mall about fifteen minutes from the Strip. The shop front boasted a classy pink and brown striped awning and there was a logo with swirly letters painted on the window. In contrast, to the right he saw a collectible cards and comics store, to the left, a place that sold cigarettes at a discount. Judging from the outside, he thought she needed a more upscale location, but then, what did he know about business?

“Here it is. My home away from home,” she said, proudly leading the way inside.

Tucker grinned as the smell of chocolate enveloped him the moment he crossed the threshold. It reminded him of Mariah. In fact, the whole store reminded him of her—sassy, sexy and luscious.

She introduced him to her shop assistant, Heidi, then spent a few minutes talking business, so Tucker wandered around the store. Her pastry case held the traditional cheesecakes, pies and cookies—all chocolate—displayed on gold and pink patterned foil. On the opposite side she offered a rich selection of chocolate truffles, some of them extremely unusual flavors.

When she ambled over to him, he said, “Chili Pepper Truffles?”

She grinned and pulled one out of the refrigerated case. “Try one.”

“Is there like a jalapeno inside it?” he said, looking at it suspiciously.

“No, just red chili powder to give it a kick. Try it.”

He took a bite. Chewed and blinked. Gave her a pained smile. “It’th…” He searched desperately for an appropriate adjective but couldn’t because his taste buds were staging a revolt.

Mariah laughed and handed him a tissue, which he took gratefully. “Here. Spit it out if you want. I won’t be offended.”

Tucker rid his mouth of the spicy mixture. “That’s what I call ‘hot chocolate’.”

“I don’t like those either,” Heidi said. “Here, try this espresso one. It’s got ground coffee beans in it.”

Tucker nodded in agreement as the coffee flavor gradually expunged the chili chocolate. “Now this is more my speed,” he admitted. “My tastes are pretty simple. Man, this is delicious.”

While Mariah rifled through some paperwork, Heidi plied him with several more candies, each one more tasty than the last. As the luscious chocolate melted in his mouth, he couldn’t help but be impressed by Mariah’s setup. He remembered she hadn’t really known what she wanted to do with her life. That had been something they’d had in common when they’d met, and they’d spent a while talking about their various aspirations. He’d admitted to a longtime wish to travel the world, maybe as an airline pilot, knowing he had more chance of winning the lottery than flying planes. He’d inherited a love of travel from his jet-setting parents. Mariah had talked about enrolling in art school, or maybe working in the restaurant business.

And now look at the two of them, both successful in their own right. He was traveling the globe, going from tournament to tournament, and she was combining her culinary interest with creativity in the form of her own gourmet shop. He admired her accomplishment, even if it made him feel a little inadequate. Once in a while he still had trouble thinking of poker as work. When he compared what he did with other people’s jobs, it seemed so inconsequential, which was why he always participated in any charity event that he was invited to.

It didn’t help that his parents weren’t particularly proud of him. They weren’t the type of people who bragged to their friends about their son’s accomplishments, no matter what they were. When he’d earned a scholarship to Stanford they hadn’t said much about it beyond mentioning that he’d have to live in the dorm because they were moving to Chicago. That hadn’t come as a surprise. They’d never said so, but he had figured out that they had never planned on being parents and his arrival had been a surprise. Oh, they did everything that was expected of them, but not much more. They were more involved with each other as a couple, and most of his life he’d felt like the third wheel.

Maybe that’s why Tony getting married was hitting him so hard. With Rhonda coming on the scene, Tucker was being relegated to third wheel status again. The only solution for that was to find a woman of his own, and maybe Mariah was that woman. But as much as he liked her, he certainly didn’t want to turn to her merely out of emotional reflex. Neither of them deserved that.

But what was the alternative? Women like Lindsay and Jenn?

Not if he could help it.

A few years ago, when he was just becoming recognizable to people in the poker scene, he’d had relationships with women merely because they admired his skill at the table and fawned all over him, but he quickly learned that those relationships were a waste of time. Those shiny women were interested in the attention they got because they were with him. They were also needy and demanding.

Mariah was different. He’d noticed her fingering the pendant in the glass store and had half expected her to hint around for him to buy it for her. She hadn’t. Most of the women he’d been with in the past few years would have done more than hint, and most likely, knowing the exact amount of cash he had in his pocket, they would have chosen something much more expensive. Not Mariah. She was independent, used to providing for herself and working for what she wanted.

Too bad she had a lousy sense of timing, because he was just about to dive into a slice of Chocolate Earthquake Cake when she put the dessert aside and announced it was time to get to work.