Authors: Jory Strong
Canvassing the street, they heard similar stories about the
houses being picked up cheap because they’d been taken back by banks.
Thinking about all those people losing their homes made
Madison ache to call her parents. She wanted to hear their voices, to know they
were okay, to tell them not to worry about money, or at least about the
mortgage—but she couldn’t, not without adding to the lies—or telling them the
truth.
As they walked toward the Jeep, she pulled her phone out and
touched her thumb to the photo icon, touched it to albums and selected one. She
scrolled through recent pictures, reminding herself why she had to stay the
course.
Tyler’s arm went around her waist. “Your mom and dad?”
“Yeah, most of these were taken last week, when I convinced
them to visit the Botanical Garden.”
Shane tucked his hand into her back pocket. “He’s okay,
right? The cancer is gone?”
She glanced at him, saw the worry in his expression that
she’d heard in his voice.
“The doctors say it’s gone.” She scrolled to the next
picture, blurted, “My parents don’t know that I know about all the bills or
about the bank threatening to foreclose. They don’t know about Bio-dad and his
money. I didn’t tell them. I didn’t want to hurt them. I let them think I was
coming here to see if I meshed with a group looking for a female guitarist.”
Shane stopped, his hand in her back pocket forcing them all
to stop.
“Do
not
tell me you feel guilty,” he said, offering
absolution with his words and the touch of his lips to her hair.
“I can’t help it,” she said, but because of him, some of the
ache had eased.
Tyler’s hand stroked her side, an up-and-down glide offering
comfort and swelling her heart with the desire to have
everything
out in
the open.
“You’ll tell them when the time is right,” Tyler said. “And
nothing says you can’t make the last part of it true, about trying to hook-up
with a band in the Bay Area.”
“True,” Shane said against her hair.
Tension vibrated from the places where each of them touched
her. She felt them willing her to agree, and she wanted to with all her heart.
But how could she when saying yes would too easily lead to breaking the
promises she’d made every time she’d visited Eli’s grave? That she’d play
guitar, that she’d make it in a band that became wildly successful, the way he
would have if he’d lived.
“Right now I need to get to the end of Bio-dad’s quest,” she
said, the crush of their disappointment compressing her heart and sinking it to
her stomach.
They returned to the Jeep.
Shane said, “It might be too late in the day to get an
answer, but we can find out who owned the house. It’d give us one more lead on
Bio-mom.”
Tyler opened the passenger-side door. “Why not hand that
piece off to Lyric or Braden while we concentrate on Tanya Meadows?”
“Braden.” Shane texted his brother then glanced at her. “I
hate to bring this up, but now might be the time to reach out to your parents’
friend, the one who worked for the lawyer. For all we know, Tanya Meadows is
the one who showed up in Virginia with you and the phony paperwork.”
Madison nodded, relieved that Shane and Tyler were making an
effort to return to the ease that had existed before she’d dodged the question
of where this thing between them was going.
Or maybe they were giving her the benefit of the doubt, that
until she’d come clean with her parents, until she knew her father was okay and
that her parents didn’t have to worry about losing the house, she couldn’t
commit.
Let it go for now.
She had to let it go.
A search gave her the law firm’s phone number. The call went
through to an answering service.
A kindly-sounding woman meant to make a good impression on
someone pregnant and considering giving up their child confirmed that Elizabeth
Gold still worked for the firm.
“Will she be in the office tomorrow?” Madison asked.
“Yes. Would you like to leave a message?”
“I’ll call tomorrow.”
Madison hung up. She could probably find Elizabeth Gold’s
home or cell number—or one of the guys could, but it made more sense to wait
until her parents’ friend was in the office, hopefully with access to the file,
before attempting contact.
Or I could be putting this off because I’m afraid she’ll
say something to Mom and Dad.
Tyler’s card was still stuck between door and jamb at the
Cantaloupe Springs apartment. Shane said, “Time to take this back to Tyler’s
place.”
They received a wriggling, barking, tail-wagging greeting
when they arrived. And crouched next to Tyler and Shane, Madison couldn’t lie
to herself. This was a glimpse of the happy-ever-after she wanted.
Tyler stood and the girls raced ahead of him to the kitchen.
“Guess that’s our signal to get to work,” Shane said.
They gathered at the kitchen table, finally tracking down a
possible phone number for Tanya Meadows.
Madison left a message.
Tyler said, “The girls need their w-a-l-k.”
As soon as he pushed his chair back, the dogs read it as the
signal it was and ran for the front door.
She stood, grasped a fistful of Shane’s silky hair. “You
coming with?”
“Sure.”
Beneath a black-velvet sky and a spray of stars, her mood
shifted. The need for answers about her biological parents faded and disappeared,
the worry about her real parents was put on hold.
“You walk her,” she told Shane, giving him Kiki’s
retractable leash then capturing his free hand along with Tyler’s.
They tensed in a way they hadn’t for most of the day, as if
suddenly realizing where this could lead at the end of the walk.
She hoped it would lead there. But…she didn’t want either
Shane or Tyler to regret it after the fact.
Her heart sped in anticipation of initiating the plan she’d
devised for getting things out in the open. She waited until after the walk,
when they were in the house and the girls were freed from their harnesses.
“What about some poker?” she asked.
Shane grinned. “Dying to clear my IOU, huh? Fair warning,
that’ll probably be wiped out on the first hand. And now that I know what kind
of money you have—”
“Nope. What I have in mind is something more interesting
than playing for cash.”
They mentally stripped her with their eyes, but that didn’t
mean she didn’t see a trace of worry in their gazes.
“What’d you have in mind?” Shane asked.
There was definitely a hint of caution in his voice.
She fought a smile. Who’d have thought a guy who’d won
millions at the poker table would be afraid to play with her?
“Winner of the hand gets to ask one of the losers to remove
a piece of clothing, or answer a question.”
Shane’s gaze flicked over her as if he was counting. With
her bra offsetting their belts, they should be wearing the same number of
items.
“Three-hundred-dollar buy-in,” Madison said. “That’d wipe
out your IOU if you win.”
Shane laughed. “I haven’t played for that kind of money
since about second grade.”
“I bet. So nothing you can’t handle. You’re a yes, right?”
When he hesitated, she clucked like a chicken.
He grinned. “I’m in.”
She turned toward Tyler. “You in?”
Tyler tried to lock down his expression. His heart was
triple-timing, sending blood pounding to his cock which said
yes, yes, yes
,
and to his feet which said
no, no, no—hell no
!
Madison put her hand on his chest and need whipped through
him.
“It’ll be fun,” she said.
Torture more like. The way he played poker, he’d be out of
his clothes in no time, naked in front of Madison—and Shane.
Madison leaned in as if she meant to kiss him. “If you don’t
want to play poker, we can—”
“I’m in,” he said, going hot and cold with the look in her
eyes.
Had she guessed about his thing for Shane? Guessed that he
was afraid of being with her at the same time Shane was?
The hand on his chest dropped away and he was grateful she
didn’t tuck it under her arm, flapping and clucking.
Time to man up
. Only all it’d take would be a
question to expose him.
His mouth went dry. “I’m in, only the loser gets to choose
between answering the question or taking something off.”
With his luck at the poker table, there was a good chance he’d
be out the buy-in before too much damage was done.
“Okay, unless it’s an all-in bet,” Madison said.
A small measure of relief trickled in. As long as Shane was
the one who knocked him out, it should be okay.
They’d played versions of truth-poker and reveal-your-secrets
poker and sexual-escapades poker before, though not recently, and almost never
anymore when Lyric was at the table.
Madison turned to Shane. He said, “I’m good with those
rules.”
She smiled. “Let’s have some fun then. What about if we play
in the living room instead of at the kitchen table?”
Tyler’s stomach tightened. The living room meant proximity
to the couch, proximity to the carpet, where it’d be easy to stretch out, hands
and mouths roaming naked skin.
“The living room works for me,” Shane said.
The heat in his voice had Tyler sweating. He couldn’t count
on any help there when it came to battling temptation.
“I’ll grab the beers,” Tyler said, managing to walk, not
run.
He had the same urge to exit through the back door and keep
going as he’d had after the one-two punch of Shane’s arrival with Madison the
night before. Only this time it was stronger, and this time it was matched by
an equally fierce desire to finally stop running, finally stop hiding what he
felt.
If he knew she meant to stick around permanently—
But she hadn’t said yes to hooking up with a band in the Bay
Area.
Tyler grabbed beers from the fridge, pressed them against
his chest as if he could numb his heart.
No chance of that.
Taking a deep breath, he returned to the living room.
They’d pushed the chairs and sofa back and put cushions on
the floor around a coffee table cleared of everything but heavy ceramic chips,
a deck of playing cards and drink coasters.
Tyler set the beers down and dropped onto a cushion on
Madison’s side of the table.
Shane said, “No antes. The minimum bet is ten dollars.
Madison deals first.”
“Figures,” Tyler grumbled, actually glad to be kicking in
the ten-dollar big blind. Two-hundred and ninety dollars to lose and he’d be
safe.
She dealt him a pair of queens and thoughts of losing
disappeared.
Competitiveness kicked in.
Play it cool
, he told himself, attempting to freeze
all facial muscles in an effort not to give away his hand strength.
Madison pushed her ten dollars in.
Shane looked at Tyler, his eyes probing like they’d done a
thousand times before at the poker table, only this time they seemed to be
looking deeper.
Sweat gathered at the back of Tyler’s neck. His lungs felt
squeezed.
I’m not going to survive this.
He fought against blinking. Fought against giving anything
away.
“Fold,” Shane said, his lips tilting in that
make-you-want-to-kiss-him way he’d perfected in high school.
Tyler raised, hoping to scare Madison into folding. She
stuck through the three-card flop that created a five-card hand for each of
them.
The two of clubs, five of diamonds and jack of spades of the
flop didn’t improve his hand, but didn’t worry him about what she might be
holding either.
She dealt the turn card, an ace of hearts.
Some of his confidence melted away.
He was content to check rather than raise.
The fifth card came up a queen, hearts to go with the black
ladies in his hand, giving him triple queens.
Another sixty dollars went into the pot.
She showed him a pair of aces that became a three-of-a-kind
thanks to the ace of hearts in the center of the table, and beat his queens.
Madison said. “The shirt or… In the last twenty-four hours,
what was your favorite sexual fantasy?”
His heart rabbited. Answer and he’d out himself. Don’t
answer, and she’d only keep digging. Lie and—
He didn’t want to lie.
He peeled off the T.
Her gaze roamed his bare chest and he had to fight against
pulling her to him.
A shudder went through him. If she lost the shirt and bra,
he’d be the one to lose his control.
Shane dealt the next hand—and won it with all three of them
still in the game.
“Any article of clothing,” Shane told Madison. “Or, let’s
return to the question you didn’t answer last night, when we were looking at
Tyler’s art. Ever let yourself be tied to the bed?”
“Yes.”
Shane’s lips parted. His eyelids lowered as if they’d become
a screen to project a personal, X-rated scene onto.
I’m not going to survive this
, Tyler thought for a
second time. He was already rock hard and battling not to turn fantasy into
reality.
Shane began playing with the nipple ring beneath his T.
Tyler’s heart flipped. He couldn’t control the reaction, not
after the encounter with Lyric, and the message she’d seemed to be sending him,
that Shane wasn’t totally straight.
Gathering the cards, he shuffled and dealt, grateful to keep
his hands busy and his mind safely focused.
Madison won again, directing the question at Shane. “Ever
engage in a sexual activity that the people who know you best would be shocked
by if they learned about it?”
A blush crawled up Shane’s neck. “Yeah.”
Madison picked up the cards.
Shane shuddered. Shit. He wasn’t ready for where this was
heading. Maybe a part of him had thought so earlier, but…