Sinner’s gut clenched with desire. The need to pick her up and carry her seven steps to reach the bed blazed hot inside him.
He wiped his fingers on a napkin. “What do you have in mind?”
“We need to go out. But we can’t look like we have money. No dinners out. No Broadway shows or concerts.”
“Movies?” He arched a brow.
“You’d have to pretend to sleep through it.”
He flattened his lips, thinking. “You can go on a romantic drug deal stakeout with your pill-head husband.” He shot out of his seat and crossed the room. He swung open the bathroom door to reveal the shower stall. “Since bubble baths are out.”
She offered him a faint smile. “Still better than the rat hole I grew up in.”
A small pang of pain twisted in his chest.
He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “What are you thinking?”
“We have to go out this evening. Score some pills.”
He slanted a look at the bed. “That means we have some time to kill before dark.”
She threw him a look that was part intrigue, part exasperation. “There is one thing.”
“I’m listening.” He slowly folded his arms across his chest.
“I…” She lowered her gaze to her plate before continuing, “Felt a little out of place at casino night at the base. I don’t know how to play cards. Smith taught me how to shove a knife under a man’s ribs and hit the kidney, but he didn’t teach me cards.”
Sinner issued a low snort. “I’ll teach you.”
Something unspoken passed between them. She was trusting him with her vulnerability. Giving him a peek at what she considered a weak point.
He drifted back to the table and cleared away their plates to make room for a game of cards. “So, cards followed by drugs?”
She nodded.
“What would you like to learn? Five-card stud? Blackjack? Rummy?” He leaned close, brushing his lips over her earlobe just to feel her shiver. “Go fish?”
Her breath stilled, and she brought a hand up to his jaw. The touch was fleeting, but he felt it like a bomb blast.
“Poker.” She fixed her stare on his lips, then tilted her face up for a kiss.
The word wasn’t a challenge so much as an invitation.
Sinner smiled against her mouth, slow and knowing. “Careful, Opal. Poker’s all about reading people.”
Her fingers tightened briefly at his jaw. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m used to hiding things.”
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, dark intent sparking in the depths. “Pretty sure we both are.”
Warmth moved through him as he realized this wasn’t a lesson—it was a beginning.
* * * * *
Opal didn’t need to throw a look over her shoulder to know that Sinner was watching her walk to the car.
As she approached the vehicle, two guys were changing a flat tire on a beat-up Chevy beside it. One was leaning on her car, watching the other remove the bolts.
He shot her an oily smile when he saw her. “Here’s a pretty one.”
