I whisper my theory into Rory’s ear as well. He glances at me, and then without question, trusts my judgment completely.
When he’s forced to show his hand, I’m happy to see that I was correct.
The rest of the evening proceeds in similar fashion. We stay until two in the morning. Between Rory’s skill at the game and my tip offs, we rake in a shit load of cash. I’m exhausted and my eyes hurt when Rory drags me away from the table.
“We’re leaving already?” I ask.
Rory laughs and musses up my hair like I’m a child.
“Better to quit while we’re ahead, sweetheart. But don’t worry, we’ll come back. We make a good team.”
“I want to have a spot at the table,” I tell him. “My own spot.”
He smiles at me again and shakes his head. “No women allowed. Club rules.”
“Well that’s bullshit.”
“You can take it up with Lachlan,” he says.
“Or you could just take me somewhere that isn’t 1950.”
He pauses at the door to consider it.
“That’s not a bad idea.”
A wicked smile spreads across my face, and it has nothing to do with poker. I thought it would be a challenge, but here he is, laying the groundwork for me.
He’s just got no idea, it’s actually the worst idea ever.
Nine
Rory
Scarlett’s tuckedinto my bed and Conor is here to look after her, so I head to the gym to meet up with the lads.
Crow and Mick are already in the ring, sparring while the other lads gab from the sidelines like a bunch of women.
I peel off my shirt and toss it aside before stepping into the opposite corner of the ring and cracking my neck.
“Anyone up for being loafed in the head this fine morning?”
“Someone’s awfully cheerful today,” Mick remarks. “Who put a smile on your dial?”
“A gentleman never kisses and tells.” I wink at him and Reaper joins me to throw some punches.
He never used to be much for sparring, since he generally lacks the self-control to stop until someone’s dead, but he’s a lot calmer now that he’s taken up with his missus. He’s one of the best lads I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.
We don’t really go after it too hard this morning. Just some light sparring. Most of the lads are still nursing a hangover from last night’s shenanigans.
When I leave them to it, Crow follows me out the door to have a word with me before I head off.
“I could do with an extra man at the club for the drop tonight. Mack’s got it into her head that I need to be home early. So, can ye do it?”
“I’m planning to take my own missus out tonight,” I tell him. “Can’t Conor do it?”
Crow shifts his gaze to the street, his eyes moving up and down out of habit. But I know by the look on his face he’s got something to say. And I also have a feeling I’m not going to like it.
“Ye’re taking up with Scarlett now, is that it?”
