CHAPTER 20

EMERY

So there I was, totally kicking ass at strip poker with five cats as witnesses. You know, just a typical Monday night.

Winning was awesome, but the drawback? Being forced to sit across from a very naked Estelle while concentrating on my cards at the same time.

An extremely difficult task.

“Okay.” Estelle sighed dramatically, and the action made her tits jiggle. Standing up, she hooked a finger into the one sock she had left. She tossed the white scrap of material to the pile of clothes on the kitchen floor, then sat back down in her chair. “I guess I really suck at this game.”

“You won a few hands,” I offered, pointing to my bare upper half.

Honestly, she wasn’t terrible. I was down to my boxers and socks. Tossing my three-of-a-kind down, I started gathering the cards.

While I was distracted by Estelle’s nudity, Carol jumped up onto the table and swatted at my sweet tea. I tried the catch the cup before it tipped over, but failed. A good amount of the liquid spilled, soaking some of the cards and running onto Estelle’s lap.

“Cold!” she shrieked, standing up. “Very, very cold. I’ll go grab a towel.”

As she took off down the hall, I watched her luscious ass bounce with every move.

I snagged a small rag from the counter and started cleaning the mess on the table. Satisfied with the mayhem she’d caused, Carol leapt to the floor and sauntered away. Didn’t even stick around to watch the aftermath of her destruction.

Estelle came back with a towel for the floor and a towel around her body.

“Hey, no fair,” I complained.

She gave me the stink-eye as she knelt down. “It’s freezing in here.”

She was right. Mike had insisted on having outdoor time, so she’d left the balcony door open for him to go in and out as he pleased. The night air seeping in was pretty fucking cold.

I flipped some of the cards over to dry them off, and I sputtered in disbelief when I saw Estelle’s hand.

“You had a flush?” I asked incredulously.

“Oh, is that good?” Widening her eyes to the point of comical, she gazed up at me, trying to play it off like she hadn’t just lost on purpose.

“Uh-uh. You’re not fooling me. I know that look, Estelle.” Shaking my head, I laughed. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who’d intentionally lose at strip poker. That’s cheating, you know.”

“Only on a couple of the hands. I wanted to get to the naked part.”

“You’re a piece of work.” I snickered. My crazy girl. “I demand a rematch.”

“All right, one more hand, but not for clothes this time,” she bargained as she finished cleaning up the tea. “My nips are so hard they could cut glass.”

I barked out a laugh at her crass comment. “Upping the stakes. I like it. What are we playing for?”

“If you lose, you have to fuck me in the shower.”

I slapped the deck down on the table and held up my hands in surrender. “I fold.”

Looking amused, she sat back down in her seat. “And you have to ride my bike—”

“Tricycle,” I corrected, earning a scowl.

“—all around the neighborhood. And after you experience its gloriousness, you’ll have to admit that it’s far superior to traditional bikes.”

“That’s two things,” I told her.

“Okay, I take the first one off the table then.”

“Let’s not be hasty, now,” I said, backpedaling. “You drive a hard bargain, but I think I can accept it.”

She giggled. “What are your terms?”

I didn’t hesitate with my answer. “If I win, you have to go on a date with me this weekend. I want to take you to the beach.”

Even if I didn’t win, I’d still insist on taking her there. It would be the perfect setting to bring up the topic of continuing our relationship beyond my time here.

A grin pulled at Estelle’s lips. “That sounds like a daytrip, not a date.”

“It is what it is.”

“Do I get to drive?”

“That depends.” I crossed my arms. “Are you gonna rap on the way?”

“You bet your ass.”

“Eminem this time?”

“Sure.” She shrugged.

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” As I shuffled the somewhat damp cards, I noticed Estelle was studying me, nibbling her bottom lip. “What?”

“I was just wondering why you don’t talk with an accent.” She cocked her head to the side. “Nikki does. Your dad, too.”

“My producers thought I’d be more relatable without it.”

“I think it would be sexy.”

“Darlin’, you have the best sweet tea on this side of the Mississippi,” I drawled, laying it on extra thick.

Estelle threw her head back and laughed.

Just then, my phone rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but it was local. “Hello?”

“Uh, yes, Emery? This is Agatha.”

“Hey.” I smiled, trapping the phone between my shoulder and my ear so I could continue shuffling the deck. “I take it you’re calling about a certain cat?”

Estelle stilled, her eyes questioning.

“I am, and I’m so excited,” Agatha replied. “When can I come see her?”

“When are you available?”

“I have tomorrow morning off. I could come around eight.”

“That would be perfect,” I told her. “We’ll see you then.”

I dropped the phone to the table.

“I meant to tell you earlier,” I said to Estelle. “One of the employees at Windsor Lakes is interested in Carol.”

“Oh, that’s great.” Her face turned skeptical. “Are you sure she wants Carol?”

I nodded. “She used to have an annoying cat. Apparently she misses having her toilet paper shredded.”

Grinning, Estelle hiked a shoulder. “Whatever floats her boat.”

I gave her a smile, but it was forced.

We’d had such a great day together, but Agatha’s call reminded me that reality awaited us tomorrow. I should’ve been ecstatic about another adoption, but it meant I was one step closer to being done in Remington.

Earlier, Estelle had been the main source of entertainment at Nikki’s while we ate dinner, telling stories about the cats and her costume shop. When she told us about the time in eighth grade when she dressed up as the rapper Flavor Flave and paraded around her classes with a blowup doll as her date—which landed her ass in detention for a week—we all thought it was hilarious. Tom laughed so hard Sprite came out of his nose.

I was in awe of how effortlessly Estelle fit into my life here. How easily she got along with my family. How quickly she’d managed to work her way into my heart.

But what if she turned me down at the beach? How could I possibly convince her that we could make it work when I was a thousand miles away and she hated flying on planes? Why couldn’t we have met at a different time in my life, when I could settle down in this city full-time?

Pushing down the tightness in my chest, I dealt the cards.

My hand was shit. After exchanging three of the lowest numbers, it was still shit.

I glanced up at Estelle. Looking down at what she had, her lips twitched. It was her tell—she had something good.

I could’ve folded and asked for new cards.

I could’ve walked away, but giving up on a losing hand had never been my style.