"Mia? She's joining you in the game?"
"Yes, you know her?"
Oh, this was too good. Mia playing with a group of seniors? He had to see this for himself. "Sure. In that case, I'll play a round or two."
They clapped their hands. "We'll wait if you want to take off your shirt and get on the ladder to fix the gutter first," Priscilla said.
Take off his shirt? He'd heard of dirty old men, but this was a first. Ethel shook her head. "Priscilla, you're going to scare him. Come on, Ethan, we have everything set up. You can do the gutter after a few rounds."
Ethan climbed up the steps and found Ophelia had set up a large table for them to play on. A pitcher of iced tea and a platter of cookies were laid out. One glass held Priscilla's teeth, and spare pairs of glasses were littered across the table. Red and blue chips were stacked in piles. They made quick introductions of the couples, chatting casually as Ed cashed him in, shooting Ethan suspicious looks.
"Military?" He grunted, handing him a pile of chips.
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"I was, too. You got the look." A flare of understanding passed between them. He poured himself a glass of iced tea and looked up as the screen door banged.
Mia held the desperate look of a woman praying for a savior. He bit back a grin at her obvious dread of playing poker at three p.m. on a weekday afternoon with strangers, but a grudging respect trickled through him. She could have said no or not answered the door or been rude. It said something that she allowed Ethel to direct her around because she was afraid to hurt her feelings. Most women he knew never would've given Ethel the time of day, no matter how pushy she was.
"You?" Those whiskey-colored eyes widened in part shock, part horror. "What are you doing here?"
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles. "Good to see you, Mia. Been a long time." She glowered at the hidden meaning. "Just playing a little poker."
"She brought her money," Dolly whispered happily. "Deal her in, Ed."
"Mia, do you need some lessons?" Ethan asked innocently. "Poker is such a rough game. Do you even know how to play?"
Her gaze narrowed with a touch of meanness. Damn, she was hot. "Of course I know how to play. I can spot a bluff a planet away."
Priscilla cackled. "Good, I like a bloodthirsty game. We had to drop a few players along the way because they didn't have what it takes."
Ed slid over Mia's chips. "A few hard rules: Dealer's choice. We ante up. We don't play with wimpy wild cards. We don't borrow money from each other. We don't welch on bets. Got it?"
Ethan pressed his lips together and nodded. "Got it."
Mia nodded. "Got it."
"Have a cookie, dear," Ethel said, sliding over one of Ophelia's creations. Overlarge, gooey, and full of chocolate chips, they were guaranteed to wipe out any bad mood.
Sheer terror carved out the lines of Mia's face. "N-n-no thank you." Ethan noticed her fingers trembled, and her nose flared slightly as if trying to suck up the scent of the chocolate. Son of a bitch--when was the woman going to allow herself some damn simple pleasures?
He grabbed one, broke it in half, and handed her a piece. "Eat the cookie, Mia," he commanded.
She folded her arms in front of her chest and smiled. Sweetly. "No, thank you."
"You'll like it."
"Maybe later."
They stared at one another in a ridiculous challenge until Fred called out, "Ante up!"
Priscilla clapped, reached over, and stuck in her teeth. Ed began dealing. "Game is five-card stud."
Their gazes broke apart, but it wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
Ethan had played a lot of poker in his life. On missions, a deck of cards helped him alleviate the boredom and bond with his teammates. He'd learned the hard way--by losing a shitload of money--the proper way to bluff, when to fold, and when to take his shot. He quickly analyzed the table and figured out some things after the second round.
Ed was too black and white and didn't like risk. Priscilla and Ethel bet for fun. Fred was too laid back.
The real card sharks were Dolly, Pete, and Mia.
They were fearless, smart, and changed their game play enough to keep him off balance. But slowly, using all the tactics he'd learned, he flushed out Dolly until she dropped. He pegged Pete as his main competitor, but the man began getting distracted, looking away from his cards and getting a strange glassy-eyed stare that looked way too familiar.
Ethan glanced over at Priscilla.
The woman was leaning over the table, giving her husband a generous peek at her breasts.
Ethan jerked back, almost spilling his tea, and wished for bleach to remove the vision permanently.
"What's the matter?" Mia asked.
Ethan groaned. "Pete? Why don't you excuse yourself from the table?"
Priscilla giggled.
Pete stood up. "I fold," he announced. He grabbed his wife's hand and dragged her inside. "We're tired. We need a nap."
The door slammed.
Mia's mouth dropped open as the full implication seemed to finally hit her.
"There they go again," Ethel said. "Always banging."
Mia choked.
"Guess it's just you two," Fred said.
Ethan assessed his final competitor and threw in a blue chip. "I raise you five."
She never blinked or changed her expression. Her glittery nail polish flashed. "Call."
"What do you have?" he asked.
She laid out her cards in a perfect fan. "Three kings."
Son of a bitch. No way she was holding those when she'd asked for a card. "Nice job. Two pair."
She reached out and raked in the chips without delay, not even showing a shred of excitement over her victory. Oh, she was good.
But he was better. And he had a plan.
"Why don't we make things more interesting for the final deal?" he threw out. "How about a bet?"
She shot him a suspicious look. "What type of bet?"
"If I win, you go with me to the cupcake festival."
Dolly tittered. "He wants a date with her," she whispered to Ethel.
Ethel sighed. "So romantic."
"What?" Mia screeched. "Why on earth would you want to go to a cupcake festival with me?"
He pasted on his best hurt expression. "What are you talking about? You know I've had a crush on you for a while. I'd love to take you to the festival."
Fred laughed. "Oh, he's good. Real good. Why don't you give him a chance, Mia?"
Trying hard not to laugh at her stunned face, Ethan knew the moment she realized the whole thing was a setup. Steam rose from her head. Ethel and Dolly were urging her to take pity on him, practically sighing over the romantic idea of trying to win a date. He was having so much fun, he almost didn't notice the gleam of revenge in those golden eyes.
Almost.
"Aww, that's so adorable, Ethan," she simpered for the audience. She even batted those lashes at him. "I accept. But if I win, I want something from you."
"What is it?"
Her smile was deadly. "Ethel was telling me they were dying to see the play Mama Mia at the Westchester Dinner Theater Saturday night, but they need someone to drive them. No one is comfortable driving at night, and it's over an hour away. Since I know how much you adore musicals, I think it would be wonderful if you accompanied them!"
Holy shit. She was pure evilness. The woman even managed to bat her eyelashes in innocence.
Ethel squealed. "What a wonderful bet! Thank you, Mia, that was so sweet of you!"
"You're welcome. Well, Ethan, do we have a deal?"
He needed to up the stakes. He leaned over and nailed her with his gaze. "Fine. But there's one clause included for our cupcake-festival date."
She blinked. Good--at least she was wary. "What?"
"You have to eat the cupcakes. As many as I say."
Her face paled. He caught the twist of lust for sugar and fear of getting out of control. That's when he knew he had to watch he
r eat a cupcake. It would be an orgasmic experience.
For both of them.
She gnashed her teeth together but managed to nod. "Fine."
"Done. I deal. Five-card stud. Ante up."
In an almost sulky silence, she threw her chips in, but he knew he had to watch her carefully. This round was absolutely crucial. There was no fucking way he was escorting a group of seniors to see Mama Mia. His man card would be permanently yanked.
The next two hands ended up being crap. He folded first round, she folded the next. On the third round, his nerves tingled pleasantly at the sight of two regal ladies. A glance over told him she was also interested.
She threw down one card.
He threw down two.
Tension rose in the air. He studied her face, noting the tiny tic of her right brow. Yes, she had a decent hand. The question would be if he had one better.
Since this was the final all-in round, there was no need for foreplay.
Three queens.
Sweat broke out on his skin. The towering pile of chips in the center wasn't the real prize, and they both knew it. But damned if she didn't look cool and composed. This was going to be close.
"Time to show. What do you have?"
The touch of a smile curved her lush, pink lips, distracting him for a second. It was worse now that he knew how she tasted. How could she practically ooze sugary sweetness when she never allowed herself to eat any?
"Two pair. Aces," she said.
It was a good hand, but not good enough. He savored the pure relief of not only escaping a musical but also being able to watch her eat cupcakes.
"Nice. But I have three queens."
The audience burst into applause. Ed slapped him on the back and grunted in approval. Dolly patted Mia's hand in sympathy.
"At least you'll get a date out of it," Dolly whispered loudly. "He's a nice man."
Ethan tried not to be offended at the strangled look on Mia's face. The woman could demolish a man's ego way too easily. He stood up from the chair and stretched. "Been a pleasure playing with you all. Gonna fix up that gutter, and I'll see everyone on Friday for the lessons," he said. "Wanna walk me out, Mia?"
Suddenly, Priscilla and Pete burst from the front door. "Who won?" Priscilla demanded. Pete had a goofy grin on his face. Both of their faces were sweaty, and there was a glow around them.
Holy shit, they were getting more action than he was.
Ethel sighed. "Ethan won and he's taking Mia out on a date to the cupcake festival. Pris, your blouse is on backward."
Priscilla looked down and giggled. "Oops."
Mia jumped up. "I'll walk you out!"
Ethan led her to the side of the house, where a large weeping willow tree hid them from the sting of the sun. Ophelia's bountiful vegetable garden offered an array of vivid colors and scents, carefully protected by a picket fence to keep out intruders. He opened the ladder he'd previously set out and fished around in his toolbox.
"That was dirty pool," she shot out, hands crossed in front of her chest. He tried not to notice the perfect swell of her breasts against the creamy silk of her tank top. His palm itched, remembering the sweet curve of their weight, the hard tips of her nipples pressed against his chest. He smothered a groan and focused on grabbing the right tools.
"Because I want to take you to the cupcake festival? You're right. I'm a horrific villain."
She practically seethed, which only added to his desire to grab her and work out all that energy in a totally different way. "You were mocking me. You don't even like me. You just want me to eat cupcakes!"
"I like you just fine," he muttered. Dear God, why did his skin suddenly feel hot? He turned away and climbed the ladder, wondering what was happening to him. He'd been known for his smooth charm in Hollywood and had women trailing his every move. Now, he sounded like an awkward teen. Did he like her? "When you had that apple pie, you changed. You relaxed. You looked happy. And you weren't so . . ."
"What?" Her voice dripped with suspicion.
"Uptight."
She let out a breath. Then went on a tirade close to the way Donald Duck got in a snit, so he took the opportunity to bang the nails in, and the noise smothered her rant. He checked the fit and tuned back in.
"--rude, and it's none of your business what I eat or don't, and the way you try to bully me--"
"Look, princess, that Mama Mia trick was as low as you can go. So don't talk to me about setups."
"Ethel did say she needed a driver. I was just trying to be nice."
"Sure. Besides, I think you deliberately wanted to lose."
Her mouth fell open, and they were back to the races. "What are you talking about?"
He climbed down the ladder, replaced his tools and shut the box, then smirked. "You could've folded again. Instead, you stayed in with an average hand. Maybe you wanted a date with me but were too embarrassed to pursue it. This way, you get to pretend it was forced on you."
Her skin flushed, and her golden eyes flamed. "You're delusional," she breathed. "I despise spending time with you."
"Ah, you protest a bit too much. Listen, it doesn't bother me. I like being pursued. It's kinda cute."
She was so mad, words seemed to escape her. Delight flowed through him. Actual sparks flew around her figure. It was the same type of chemistry that shot out when they'd kissed. If he took her to bed, would they both combust?
"This is war, horse man," she finally wrested out. "Make no doubt about it." She marched away, head held high in the air, fists clenched at her sides.
"See you Saturday!" he called out. "Oh, and wear something pretty." Ethan shook his head. The woman was definitely livening up his summer.
Chapter Twelve
Oh, he was so arrogant.
Mia fumed as she made her way back into her room. The porch was clear--her new friends off to wreak havoc on the town, probably--and she couldn't get that damn kiss out of her head.
A date. Like hell. She didn't want to date Ethan Bishop. He was a pain in the ass. Sure, he was Special Forces and put others' lives in front of his own. Sure, he'd been a bodyguard and seemed to have a deep protective instinct that gave her a sinking mushy pit in her stomach. Sure, he was hot, even with the Grizzly Adams beard.
But he was not her type. In August, she'd get out of this perfect country hellhole and back to the city, where she ruled and things made sense, and she picked whom she did and didn't want to go to bed with on her own terms.
Maybe she'd spend some time with Chloe. Her father called every few days for a check-in, but Mia sensed his daughter felt like he was just crossing off an item on his to-do list. She'd worked longer days at the stable than needed, so Ethan had given her the day off.
Mia knocked on her door. It took a few moments for her to open it. "Hey. How's it going?"
Chloe shrugged. Her purple hair was braided around her face. Her eyebrow ring flashed in the light. She wore tiny denim shorts and three layered multicolored tank tops with spaghetti straps. Her toenails were painted black. "Fine."
"Want to go into town with me? Figured you'd be bored. We could do some shopping."
Chloe flicked a judging gaze over Mia's conservative, polished outfit and smirked. Politely. "No, thanks. My friends called, and they're on their way over to pick me up."
Mia shifted in discomfort. This was the part she hated. She'd promised Jonathan to keep his daughter out of trouble, but she was in college for God's sake. She had to have a life, and this inn was beginning to be a type of prison, like Chloe originally termed it. "Okay. Make sure you check your cell in case I text for something."
Chloe rolled her eyes but nodded. "Sure."
Her tone dripped sarcasm, but Mia was grateful for any type of assent. "Your dad said he was going to try to come up next weekend for a visit."
Immediately, her face changed. Those gorgeous blue eyes hardened, and Mia's heart broke at the obvious resentment. "Tell him 'no, thanks.' What if the paparazzi track him down and find ou
t his criminal daughter has been hidden from the world? Goodbye, NYC Mayor."
"You're more important to him than being mayor, Chloe," she said.
"Sure you're not sleeping with him? You're defending him like you are."
Mia narrowed her gaze. "I'm sure. He's my client, and I believe he's a good man. I also know he's nuts about you and didn't know how to handle it when you got in trouble. He's a guy. They're not very good at emotions."
That remark got her a slight smile.
She was halfway to the door when inspiration struck. "Hey, there's a cupcake festival on Saturday. Ethan mentioned it. Want to go?"
The girl shrugged. "I guess. Nothing else to do around here."
"Great."
She headed to her room. Take that, Ethan. It couldn't be an official date with Chloe there. She needed to prove she wasn't interested in spending any extra time with the man. The Golden Girls crew needed no other ammunition to try to match them up, or they'd drive her nuts the next two weeks.
The sound of rowdy laughter and curse words drifted up to her open window. She peeked her head out to see what was going on.
A battered black muscle car was parked outside. Three kids hooted Chloe's name, leaning against the side of the car, flicking cigarette ashes on the pavement. The two guys were tatted up, with baggy shorts hanging past their knees and large, round piercings in their ears. Definitely older. The lone girl sported bright-pink hair in a shaggy cut and wore barely-there denim shorts, wedged sandals, and a low-cut black shirt.
Mia frowned. These were Chloe's friends? Her gut told her to go downstairs and secure an introduction. She was here to watch out for Chloe, and though it was uncomfortable to play guardian, she owed that to Jonathan.
She skipped down the stairs quickly, heading toward the car at the same time Chloe reached her friends. Mia pasted on a bright smile as she approached.
"Hi, guys. I'm Mia, Chloe's . . . aunt. How are you?"
Chloe's eyes widened in horror. Her blue eyes flickered with a tinge of panic before she quickly ducked her head, muttering something under her breath. Why was she so afraid of introducing her friends? Was it a teen-embarrassment thing? Or something more?
The first guy looked bored, while the second one gave her a leer. Up close, they looked kind of alike, with short, spiky hair and brown eyes. Were they brothers? "Hey," one of them greeted. "You're the one guarding Chloe's ass, huh?"
Mia blinked. "An interesting way to phrase it, I guess. What's your name?"