“So, it’s just been the four of you and her up here, in the mountains?” Jamie murmurs in the background.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Henry smack him upside the head, and I try not to laugh.
I take Rollins hand after hand over the next hour until he’s down to his plaid boxers.
“I really thought you’d be more of a briefs kind of guy,” I sneer.
“Give us our damn cards, boy,” Rollins barks at Luke and taps the table.
The guys snicker quietly to themselves.
My two kings I’m dealt get me three of a kind, but I have a sneaky suspicion Rollins has a pair in his hand too. Mine might be higher, but if he’s got nines, off my bra goes.
And as much as I hate to admit it, the only person in this room I’m removing my bra for is going to be Baylor.
I resist the urge to look up at him.
The air is thick with suspense, and it feels like all eight of us are holding our breath together as Luke flips the last card over. A wave of relief washes over me when I see it’s another king.
Rollins smiles and slams his cards down. “Let’s see those tits, sweetheart. Kings and nines! Full house!”
I knew it.
“Aspen?” Luke signals to me.
I hold on to Rollins’s gaze for a moment longer, wanting to witness every wrinkle and frown line get deeper as he realizes he just lost.
“You can keep those on.” I nod at the only article of clothing he has left and place my cards on the table.
Four kings—a higher hand.
“Damn, Pen! Four of a kind!” Henry claps. “You didn’t have that until the last card?”
I shake my head.
“No fucking way!” Jamie stands and leans over the table for a better view.
Rollins stares at my cards in denial for a long while.
Luke drops to one knee at my side. “Will you fucking marry me?”
“No, me! Marry me, Aspen!” Jesse pushes him over and takes his place. “I’m better in the sack than he is.”
My hand covers my heart. “Such romantic gestures.”
“Get up, idiots.” Henry chuckles before coming in to congratulate me. He gives me an awkward one-armed hug because, well, I’m almost naked.
I offer Rollins a handshake, which he actually accepts.
“Not bad, sweetheart. Not bad.”
My grip on his hand tightens. “It’s Aspen. Not sweetheart.”
“Aspen,” he corrects, and I let go.
I glance around the room at the excitement and celebration and realize Baylor’s nowhere to be seen. He left, but I’m not sure when—or why.
“I’m going to go shower and put some clothes on, okay?” I tell Henry, gathering my shoes and my dress up in my arms.
