by Carrie Secor
Shane’s jaw dropped and the blood rushed to his face as he averted his eyes. Everyone in the dining room laughed openly.
Stacy put a hand on Shane’s wrist. “It’s okay,” she said soothingly. “Will’s is the Godfather.”
“Stace!” Will erupted, blushing himself, as the laughter of the room increased.
Cadie sat down at the table next to Elliot. Shane looked completely stricken. “So, you’re really playing against me?” he asked, sounding hurt.
She looked around the table, then looked down at herself and nodded. “It appears that way,” she said to Shane.
“I get it. The girlfriend shirt comes off when it’s time to play poker.”
Adam, Tyson, and Will leaned forward over the table, peering at Cadie with interest.
“I’m not taking my shirt off!” Cadie snapped.
“Damn straight,” said Shane, punching Will lightly on the shoulder and pushing him back in his chair.
Will rubbed his shoulder and gave Shane a dirty look.
“Fifty cents,” spoke up Felicia.
“How is that fifty cents?” Shane protested. “It wasn’t the f-word.”
“It’s a quarter for ‘damn’ and a quarter for your improper use of the word ‘straight,’ ” Felicia answered snootily. She winked at Elliot, who nodded her approval.
About the Author
Carrie Secor was born and raised in central Pennsylvania. Eventually the sub-zero temperatures drove her south to Dallas, Texas, where she currently lives with a hyperactive, anxiety-ridden cat. She is a professional accountant and an occasional novelist.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
About the Author