Colorado 03 Lady Luck (12 page)

The dealer eyed me and Blondie, had a quiet
word with Ty and the Texan and then Ty came to me and told me I was
relegated to the couch against the back wall.

Then he bent his head, lips to my ear and
whispered, “Cross your legs. Often.”

Then he went to a chair at the table where
big piles of multi-colored chips were sitting.

I sat, the bartender got me a French martini
after I ordered it (and I did this because of my surroundings, not
that I ever drank one – I drank beer – it just popped into my head
and sounded like something a woman wearing a slinky dress who was
relegated to a couch during a testosterone only poker game would
drink and I found out it tasted really good).

Then, for over an hour, I sipped my (two)
French martinis, crossed and uncrossed my legs frequently but not
frequently enough to seem silly (like Blondie was fidgeting at my
side, making me wonder if she might have a movement disorder),
tried not to fall asleep and watched with increasing alarm (the
only thing that kept me from falling asleep) as Ty’s piles
dwindled.

Twice, he’d reached into his inside suit
pocket, thrown bills on the table that were snatched up by the
dealer faster than you could blink and new chips were stacked at
his place. Twice, those stacks shrunk.

He had two chips in front of him that I was
staring at in a vain effort to make them multiply spontaneously and
the mound of chips in the middle was about three times larger than
any other game.

It was then I felt something slither along
my legs, my eyes slid to the left and I noticed the secret agent’s
head was slightly turned my way, his eyes downcast and I knew they
were on my legs.

“Lexie.”

I heard Ty’s rumbling voice call my name, I
jumped and called, “Yeah, honey?”

“Come here,” he ordered, his back was to me
and he didn’t turn around.

I looked to secret agent guy and saw his
gaze was now alert and on Ty.

I set my drink on the side table, got up,
moved quickly to the poker table and stood at his back right. “You
need something, Ty?”

His neck twisted and his head tipped back.
“Give me your necklace, baby,” he said softly.

My breath started sticking in my throat but
his eyes held mine and they were not impassive. They were
communicating. I just had no freaking clue what they were
saying.

I didn’t want to lose my necklace, I liked
it but I liked that Ty gave it to me and why.

But he told me to trust him.

I had to trust him.

So I lifted my hands, unclasped the chain
and then brought it down, watching it and the pendant pool in Ty’s
upturned palm.

He instantly tossed it on the pile of chips
and I felt my stomach clench. Then, directly after, he tossed in
his last two chips.

Then he said to the table, “Thanks,
babe.”

I stood there not knowing what to do.

Then, for reasons unknown to me, my hands
lifted and I unscrewed one earring and set it by his wrist on the
table. Then the other. Then I fiddled with the clasp on my
bracelet, managed by a small miracle to get it unhooked all on my
own and I placed it by the earrings. Then I bent low, leaned in and
kissed the hinge of his jaw. Then I straightened, squeezed his
shoulder, looked over his head at secret agent guy and aimed a
smile at him.

Then I turned and walked back to the couch,
ignoring Blondie smiling slyly and superiorly at me.

Five minutes later, Ty won that huge pot.
Fifteen minutes later, he won the next one. The one after, he lost.
He won the next three.

The night wore on, I ordered another martini
and sipped it because dinner was long past and I didn’t want it to
go to my head and I watched Ty win big.

When it was clear things were breaking up,
Ty’s pile had to be about five times bigger than when the game
started. Men moved, Blondie pushed herself up and shuffled forward,
I uncrossed my legs then recrossed them on the other side.

Ty jerked his chin at the dealer while the
Texan stood and said in a loud mutter, “Not sure you’ll be welcome
to sit another game, Walker.”

“Don’t ‘spect so,” Ty replied, sounding like
he couldn’t care less and standing, his side to the table, his neck
twisted until his eyes were on me.

I was to go to him.

I went to him.

Goodnight type words were exchanged and I
did a scan of the occupants of the room as I walked to Ty. The
swarthy man looked mildly annoyed. The Texan looked pissed, then
again, his piles had dwindled the most when Ty started winning. The
rest simply looked like they were tired and ready to call it a
night.

I stopped close to Ty and the minute I did,
he took hold of and then lifted my wrist, tagged the bracelet off
the table and latched it on. Then he put a hand to my hip, put
pressure on and my body moved until my back was to him. The pendant
dangled in front of me then disappeared downward.

Then I heard him murmur, “Lift up your
hair.”

I did as I was told.

He clasped my necklace on, tingles sliding
up my scalp and down my spine when his fingers brushed against my
skin.

The hand came back to my hip turning me to
face him, he again lifted my wrist, twisted it and deposited my
earrings in my palm.

“Don’t bother puttin’ ‘em in. We get back to
the room, we’re goin’ straight to bed.”

I felt my body go electric again, I licked
my lips and nodded.

His eyes cut through the room, he did a few
jerks of his chin, I aimed a tired smile around, his hand went to
the small of my back and he led me to and out the double doors.

Breakfast

The next day, I sat baking in the sun on a
lounge chair by the pool, sweat mingling with my suntan oil, my
eyes directed to the Kindle in my hand but my mind was not on my
Kindle.

It was on Ty.

Last night he won four hundred and fifty
thousand dollars playing poker.

Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

This boggled the mind. I didn’t know what to
do with this. It was so huge, it was impossible to process.

But that knowledge wouldn’t be the only
thing that boggled my mind last night.

Playing it cool, I hadn’t asked him until we
got to the room how much he won but I did it the minute the latch
clicked on the door. He answered as he strode into the room,
shrugging off his jacket.

I stood in the little hall, stunned
motionless.

Then I’d walked into the bedroom to see him
draping his jacket on the chair by the window.

“Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars?” I
asked.

“Yep,” he answered.

“Four hundred and fifty thousand dollars?” I
repeated.

Ty didn’t respond that time.

“I can’t believe you won that kind of
money,” I stated because I couldn’t.

“Don’t get excited,” he replied, taking out
his cufflinks and acting like he wasn’t excited but then again, he
rarely acted like he was anything.

But still.

Four hundred and fifty thousand
dollars
was exciting and
should be, even for Ty.

Therefore I stared at him and I did this for
awhile.

Then I asked incredulously, “How can I not
be excited? That’s a lot of money. And you won that money. In
Vegas. In a poker game that came right out of a movie. And that…
is…
fucking
…
cool!”

His eyes came to mine. “It wasn’t cool. It
was easy. They were amateurs. The only one who knew what he was
doin’ is Navarro and Navarro was more interested in your legs than
the game.”

This surprised me, it surprised me but it
didn’t take the wind out of my sails though it did make me
curious.

“They were amateurs?” I asked.

“Think they’re big shots, they aren’t.
Navarro was the only professional sittin’ that table.”

“Which one was Navarro?” I asked but I
thought I knew.

“Slim. Black hair. Eyes sliding to the couch
about a hundred fuckin’ times.”

I was right, I knew.

“So amateurs play for those kind of
stakes?”

He nodded as he dropped his cufflinks on the
desk and said, “The rest of those men got money to burn. Hobby.
That’s why they let me play them. They don’t let just anyone sit a
table. My boy that got me in the game told them about me. They knew
my history; they thought I was an easy mark. Had money, not much,
but enough and they were willin’ to take it. I spent an hour losin’
and they lost interest in me since they thought they took me,
forgot to pay attention. Amateur mistake. Navarro knew what I was
doin’ the minute I started doin’ it and that includes walkin’ in
the room with you.”

This didn’t make sense. “If he’s a
professional, why did he lose his concentration?”

His eyes came to me. “I won big but I’m
seein’ with that question you were payin’ attention to me not the
game. He won bigger and that’s how good he is. Half his mind on the
game, half on your legs and he still took them for almost nine
hundred large.”

“
Oh,” I whispered, thinking nearly a
million dollars was cool too but I wasn’t in a room with a man who
won nearly a million dollars. I was in a room with Ty and what he
won was
more
than
enough. Then I asked, “What did Stetson guy mean when he told you
that you wouldn’t be invited to sit another table? Was he just
pissed you won?

“The Texan figured out I played him and
wasn’t happy about it because he thinks I’m dirt. I’m an ex-con but
even if I wasn’t, I’m half black and have been all my life so I can
smell it when a man don’t like color. That man don’t like color so
he thinks I’m beneath him, ex-con or not and ex-con only makes it
worse and also makes him think he’s right, all the reasons he’s
convinced himself it’s okay he don’t like color. He’s in his
sixties and still tappin’ twenty-somethin’ ass because his money
and status can buy him that kinda tail. Still, I played him. He
doesn’t like that. But he didn’t like me the minute I walked in
with you. Man like me shouldn’t have class like you. Mouthed off to
save face and remind me of my place.”

I felt angry heat hit my chest as I
whispered, “That isn’t cool.”

He shrugged. “Happens all the time. A
mechanic who’s got color or he doesn’t hits a high stakes game,
they don’t know my reputation or they do and think they can best
me, I take their money, they get pissed.”

“So, is he going to block you from sitting
another game?”

“I’m not gonna be sittin’ another game.”

I stared at him, thrown.

Then I asked, “What? Why not? You just won
nearly half a million dollars.”

His eyes held mine and he explained, “Lexie,
that shit sucks you in. You don’t control it, it controls you. I
just spent five years essentially in chains. I don’t need to be
chained to somethin’ else.”

I felt my breath start sticking in my throat
because he meant this. He had no intention of getting sucked in in
order to live large doing something that wasn’t exactly illegal
(though I wasn’t sure about that) but still was slightly dubious
and definitely unpredictable, testing Lady Luck who was unforgiving
and living a life that wasn’t under his control.

I liked this. A lot.

Too much.

Ty went on, “I sat that game for a reason.
That money’s got a purpose. That money finances the business I need
to see to. I got a life to restart, that money will help me restart
it. Now I got the money, don’t need to sit another game.”

In other words, it wasn’t about bling, great
shoes and one hour tailoring of expensive suits.

Tonight had a purpose, he’d seen to it and
he was moving on.

Yes, I liked this. A lot. I liked it even
though any business that required nearly half a million dollars was
dubious too.

“Well, I’m glad you got what you needed,
Ty,” I said quietly and he stared at me, face expressionless but,
again, it felt like he was reading me then he jerked up his
chin.

Then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

I moved to the unit and dropped my earrings
on it, took off my necklace and put it there too then struggled
with my bracelet and managed to unclasp it and laid it with the
others.

Then I went to my bag which had exploded on
the floor at the end of the luggage shelf. I dug in, got my
drawstring shorts and the little, tight tee I wore to bed and moved
to the bathroom. I secured my hair in a messy bunch on top of my
head, changed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, moisturized and
walked out carrying my dress and shoes. I hung the dress, dumped
the shoes and saw Ty in bed, back to headboard, sheet up to his
waist, chest and defined abs on display, eyes on the TV and they
didn’t come to me even as I moved about the room.

Even though I hadn’t been in the bathroom
very long, the air in the room seemed about ten degrees cooler than
when I went in and the AC was audibly pumping. Therefore, I wasted
no time in moving around the bed and sliding under the covers
beside him. Last night, after a huge meal and almost a bottle of
champagne to myself, I fell asleep watching TV and slept on the
covers. Tonight, sliding into bed beside him felt strange. And part
of this strange had to do with wondering what he was wearing under
the sheet.

I sucked it up, rolled to my side facing Ty,
up on an elbow in the pillow, knees curled and pointed my eyes down
my body to the TV.

“Put your jewelry in the safe,” Ty muttered
and my gaze slid to the unit then back to the TV.

“Thanks,” I whispered back then I noted
softly, “You mentioned something about when a mechanic hits a high
stakes game. Obviously, you’ve played before.”

To my comment, his response was, “Give and
take?”

My gaze moved from the TV up his large frame
to his beautiful eyes that were on me.