by Cora Kenborn
Quickly picking up the receiver, I hit the button labeled for the message center and waited. Once prompted, I pressed the pound sign and held my breath.
Incidentally, trying to have a coherent phone conversation while the man you’ve lusted over your entire adult life licked the top of your thigh was like trying to walk a tightrope while drunk.
Utterly impossible.
“Hello, I’m calling from the security office of the Circus Circus casino. We’re going to need someone from this room to come to our office immediately.”
Click.
“Motherfucker!” Throwing the receiver back onto its cradle, I wiggled my way out of Zep’s hold and jerked my shorts back up my thighs.
“Addie, you okay?” What’s wrong?”
“Come on,” I hissed, snatching my purse and grabbing his hand. To Zep’s credit, he never questioned my crazy. He simply followed along beside me as I stalked toward the elevators, giving me only a few passing side-glances.
After repeatedly pounding my fist on the elevator call button, I dug my phone out of my purse and scrolled like a madwoman until finding the number I wanted. As the light above the elevator illuminated announcing its arrival, I growled into the mouthpiece.
“I don’t give a fuck what you’re doing. Meet me at the entrance to the casino, or you’re dead to me.”
One silent elevator ride and an angry pregnant lady stomp across the lobby later, Zep and I met up with a rumpled looking Pope and Savannah. I had no question as to what they’d been doing when I interrupted. Savannah’s backward dress and the lipstick smudges along Pope’s jawline told me they were doing the same thing we were.
And if I’m not getting laid, neither is she.
“What the hell is going on?” Savannah asked, her eyes wide with confusion.
Choosing to keep my mouth shut, I motioned for them to follow me as I led the herd into the casino and up the stairs to a glass lined wall of offices. Flinging out a finger, I pointed through the second set of windows. “That’s what’s wrong.”
Savannah followed my finger and gasped as Babs turned in her plastic chair and spat on the desk in front of her. One wrinkled wrist was handcuffed to the armrest, and if the wild look in her eyes were any indication, she was mad as fuck and mentally whittling a voodoo doll in the likeness of the pudgy man sitting across from her.
A quick knock on the door prompted an oversized security guard with no neck and two gun holsters to let us in. Wrapping my hands around my belly, I tore my eyes away from my grandmother and cleared my throat. “Hi, I’m Adelaide Dubois. I got a message to come here.”
The guard behind the desk raised his head and heaved a sigh of relief. “Does this belong to you?”
How easy it would be to deny it and go back to a night of mind-blowing sex.
“She’s our grandmother,” I admit, silently chastising myself for the thought. “What has she done now?”
“She’s been arrested.”
“For what?” Savannah blurted out beside me.
As Babs rattled her handcuff and mumbled something in Russian, the guard cued up a video reel on an overhead screen. The image that popped up silenced the room. Babs was sitting on the end chair at a poker table with a stack of chips in front of her as tall as she was.
“Counting cards and cheating the casino out of well over twenty-thousand dollars.”
63
The Mile High Club
Savannah
Las Vegas, Nevada
It was official. My grandmother was a cockblocking aficionado.
Locking eyes with my sister, we shared a look of amazement. How was it possible that woman who could barely string an intelligible sentence together was some secret card shark?
I mentally calculated how much cash we would all be able to pool together for bail money when Pope stepped forward. His T-shirt was rumpled and creased where my hands had been knotted in it not five minutes before, and his belt had missed one of the loops on his jeans in his haste to get dressed. Despite his disheveled appearance, he exuded an aura of confidence and authority.
“Hello, my name is Quentin Pope. I’m engaged to Bab—I mean Ekaterina’s granddaughter. Now, Mr. Thompson,” Pope said, squinting to read the security guard’s silver name badge, “it’s my understanding that card counting isn’t illegal as long as it’s not done with an external device.”
It’s not?
I scooted to Pope’s side, my eyes darting from him to the sweaty guard. I didn’t want to miss any of their exchange. My man was in his element, something I hadn’t often seen outside of the past few days. How could I have been prepared to marry a man and not know he had a sexy, take-charge side to him? The Pope I got most of the time was sweet, thoughtful, and definitely sexy, but this badass version of him made my lady parts stand up and pay attention.
The pot-bellied security guard scoffed, his face turning a blistering shade of red. “What, are you a cop?”
“Actually, I am. New Orleans PD, badge number 2684. You can check if you’d like.”
A sly smile stretched his pock-marked cheeks. “You don’t have any jurisdiction here.”
Pope gave his own dazzling smile, only there was an edge of challenge in his eyes. “No, I don’t. However, we have plenty of casinos in New Orleans, and I’m well versed in the federal laws that govern such establishments.”
The guard narrowed his eyes but remained silent, so Pope continued. “I imagine you searched her for such a device?”
At that, Babs clicked her teeth back in place with a wet snap and grinned. “Fat man, soft touch,” she crooned, flipping a house shoe off and running a stocking covered foot up the guard’s polyester laden leg. He jerked away from her touch, fear flashing in his eyes.
Pope rolled his lips over his teeth, clearly trying not to laugh at the poor man’s terror. “Well, did you find anything?”
“No.”
“I see,” Pope said, nodding his head in such a way that told me he was far from done with this asshole. “So, she hasn’t done anything illegal. You’re well within your rights to refuse to allow her to continue gambling in your establishment. You can even ban her from the premises. What you can’t do is legally is hold her or the money she’s won, seeing as it was obtained legally according to US gambling laws.”
The guard looked like his head was about to explode. He opened his mouth to interrupt, but Pope just held up a hand, stopping him from whatever he was going to say.
“Now, you have a decision to make, Mr. Thompson. You can let her leave with us along with her winnings, or you can fight me on this. Of course, that would force me to call my buddy, Sergeant Oliver of the LVPD, and get him out of bed at this ungodly hour. After which, he’d probably call the local news to report on the story because let’s be honest with ourselves, a casino holding a little old lady and refusing to let her keep what she rightfully won would be front page news. I don’t think you or your boss would want that.”
Mr. Thompson’s teeth gnashed together in anger, and he turned a sneering face to Babs. “I’ll have hotel security escort you to your room so you can gather your things, but then you’re banned for life.”
Babs glared back and rattled the handcuffs. “Use these to make me scream, or take them off. Don’t like man who tease.”
The guard’s once red face turned a sickly white as he slowly backed away and tossed the handcuff keys to Pope. “You do it. I’ll get someone to escort you.” He all but ran out the glass doors in his effort to get away from our lovely and depraved grandmother as she cackled in his wake. It was amazing the charm and disgust a Dubois woman could exude when she wanted to.
Addie began to pace as Pope moved to release Babs. “What the hell are we supposed to do now? We can’t leave until tomorrow afternoon.”
Pope let the handcuffs and keys clatter to the glass desk beside him. “Well, all these casinos are interconnected. Her face and name will be spread all across town within the hour, I’m sure. I doubt she’ll even be able
to get a room in a hotel with a casino.”
She rubbed her protruding belly, worry etched on her face. “Which, of course, is all of them.”
“Savannah and I will get our things and head to the airport with Babs. You guys stay and fly back tomorrow. Honestly, at this point, I think it’s safer for her to travel with a police escort.”
Babs smacked Pope on the ass and beamed at all of us. “Officer Hot Buns right. Don’t want casino to run name with records. What is statue of limits on safe cracker?”
I blinked a few times, my mind running at max capacity to even try to translate whatever the fuck she’d just said. “You don’t want them to run your name through their database? And did you just ask what the statute of limitations is on robbery?”
“You have crawfish in ears? Yes, that what I say!” Babs clapped her gnarled hands together and shooed us out of the room. “Come, we must go.”
There was a moment of frozen shock where we all stared at each other in amazement. We’d always known Babs had lived an eventful life, and probably not always on the right side of the law considering her blatant disregard for anything authoritative. However, it was clear that the drunk rambling stories we’d heard growing up had done little to scratch the surface.
Babs growled. An actual honest to God growl rumbled through her lips as she shuffled toward the door. “This how you get caught—slow getaway.”
As if the momentary spell we’d all been under suddenly lifted, we scrambled for the door all at once, pushing our way into the lobby where four burly security guards waited for us.
“How much do you know about her past?” Pope asked, looking over at a snoring Babs.
I’d watched her take a Xanax this time, even making her take her teeth out and lift her tongue to ensure she’d swallowed it. It was amazing what you could get on the streets of Las Vegas for twenty bucks. A normal person might worry about feeding their elderly grandmother a handful of pills they’d scored from some shifty Uber driver on the strip. However, normal people didn’t have a grandmother who had probably bathed in lakes tainted with napalm as a child, either. The woman was nothing short of invincible. It took a fucking horse tranquilizer to take her down.
We’d gotten through security with little more than a few strange looks due to Babs not having time to restock her portable minibar. Since we’d missed the last direct flight to New Orleans, we were on our way to Atlanta to catch a connecting flight.
“She used to tell us stories growing up, but we always thought they were mostly made up. Given all that’s happened since we’ve been back, I’m starting to think they may have been true.”
Pope gave me an easy smile and nodded. “I never really told you about my grandfather, but he was a lot like Babs.”
I raised an eyebrow in surprise. “He was?”
He chuckled and shook his head ruefully. “Not as bad, I don’t think anyone could top Babs’ antics. But he was kind of crazy in his old age. The minute he turned sixty, he stopped caring what anyone thought. He just did what he wanted and dared anyone to tell him he couldn’t. It helped that he had more gold stashed away than King Midas and the respect of everyone in our community, but even if he hadn’t, I doubt he would’ve acted differently. He would’ve liked Babs. Hell, I’m pretty sure he would’ve tried to steal you away from me.”
I winced at the slight edge in his words. We hadn’t talked about Patrick and the “whoops-I’m-actually-married” situation. However, as much as I didn’t want to, I knew we had to get it all out there. “Nobody could steal me away. You know that, right?”
He didn’t look at me. He just stared at the fasten seatbelt sign. “Do I, though?”
“Pope…”
“You didn’t tell me what was going on, Savannah. You just took off and tried to hide shit from me. Is that how our relationship is going to be? Me in the dark and you weathering the storm by yourself?”
I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. There was nothing comfortable about the conversation we needed to have, and I was just going to have to pull up my big girl panties and deal with it. It was poetic justice. I’d all but forced my sister to do the same thing with Zep, and now it was my turn to act like an adult. Responsibility was the worst.
“Of course not,” I started, not entirely sure where I was going with this, but hoping it would be good enough to save what we had. “I love you, Pope, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on. I’m so used to crazy shit like this happening and having to deal with it on my own.”
“But you didn’t do it on your own. You went to Addie and Babs to help you.”
Well, yeah. Crazy attracts crazy. Everyone knows that.
“They’re my family. I’m not going to stop going to them for help.”
“But I’m supposed to be your family too. I want to be the first person you turn to. That’s what marriage is all about, having a partner in life no matter the circumstance. I’m not saying you need to give up your family as a lifeline. I’m just saying I should be part of that and not standing on the sidelines.”
“I was scared. I didn’t want you to be mad at me for doing something so stupid and not even knowing it. I thought you’d realize you didn’t want a lunatic for a wife and tell me to take a hike.”
“When I met you, you were chasing a pig wearing a diaper, Savannah. It’s not like I went into this blind. I knew exactly who you were. I still do, and that’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“You do?”
“Of course, I do. You’re creative, smart, funny, and yes, a little crazy, but those are all things that make you, you. I want all of you, not just the parts you think I want to see.”
“You’re kind of amazing. You know that?”
He swiped a thumb across my cheek, catching the tears that had fallen. Leaning in, he kissed me softly. “So are you.”
“Gators like taste of assholes,” Babs mumbled in her sleep, effectively ruining the moment before going back to snoring.
I laughed and shook my head. “I really don’t want to know what she’s dreaming about.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass on that one too.”
Reaching out to the touchscreen embedded in the headrest of the seat in front of me, I checked our flight time. “Well, it looks like we have another hour and a half before we land in Atlanta.”
“You should probably try to get some sleep,” Pope suggested, squeezing my hand. “I’ll be on Babs watch.”
Stealing another glance at my grandmother, I snorted. “Thanks, but we’ll be lucky if we can manage to wake her up when we land. I’m not tired anyway.”
Pope sighed and glanced around the darkened cabin of the plane. “Yeah, me either. I’ve never understood how people can sleep while being hurled through the air in a tin box.”
I quirked an eyebrow and studied him, noticing the strain on his face for the first time. “You don’t like flying?”
He shrugged. “It’s not my favorite mode of transportation.”
“Hmmm, what should we do to occupy your mind?” I asked, slipping a hand up his thigh.
The startled look he shot me was almost comical. Almost. It was hard to find anything funny when I could feel him lengthening beneath my touch.
“Savannah,” he groaned, grabbing my wrist and halting my progress.
“What do you say, Officer Pope? You want to join the mile-high club with me?”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I gripped his hardening erection through his jeans. It was a challenge; one I was sure he’d rise to meet. He glanced across the cabin once more, taking in all the sleeping passengers.
I noted the flight attendants who stood with the drink carts at the front of the plane and smiled. “We’ve got at least twenty minutes until they get to the back. It’s now or never.”
“I swear, one of these days you’re going to get me arrested,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.
“That wasn’t a no…”
He s
tood up, gave me a pointed look, and headed down the aisle for the bathrooms. I couldn’t help the grin that pulled at the edges of my lips.
My knee bounced impatiently as I waited the obligatory few minutes before following him. When I made it to the back of the plane, I glanced between the two lavatories, unsure which one held my future husband. I reached for the unlocked door on the right, assuming he wouldn’t want me to draw attention by knocking on the locked door.
I felt my grin get even bigger as I slid the folding door open to see Pope’s big form taking up most of the tiny room. Slipping inside, I had to bend my arm at an awkward angle to click the lock into place. To say it was a tight fit was an understatement. I hadn’t stopped to consider the logistics of having sex with an over six-foot-tall man in an airplane bathroom.
Before I could wonder too much about how we were going to pull off a sexcapade in the cramped space, Pope sifted his fingers into my hair and tilted my head so he could deliver a searing kiss. All analytical thoughts dissipated, and the thrill of what we were doing took over, adrenaline heating my blood.
My teeth sank into his lower lip and all pretenses were lost. Pope’s hands glided up my bare thighs, taking the slinky fabric of my skirt with it. I thought, belatedly how lucky it was that I’d chosen to wear a dress instead of jeans. As his hands moved around to my backside, he squeezed, pulling me closer. My fingers wriggled between our bodies and eagerly scrambled with his belt buckle. There wasn’t time to waste getting completely naked, so I focused on only the necessities. In my hurried excitement, my elbow smacked against the wall loudly.
“Shhh,” Pope warned, his fingers curling around my flimsy, lace thong. Apparently, asking me to take them off was too inconvenient, because he fisted the fabric and with a yank and a twist, I was free of them.
My accusing glare was met with a cocky and extremely self-satisfied smirk.
Showoff.