All In

by Aleah Barley

  She frowned. “I thought you said he had money.”

  “Ten million seven hundred and twenty-six thousand dollars.” Ryan shook his head in disbelief. Why hadn’t he seen it before? “We never could figure out how Morelli was washing his money. What if it was here the entire time? What if he was cleaning it through the casino somehow?”

  Daisy’s entire body went still. Her eyes narrowed.

  She was thinking—really thinking—and Ryan didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more beautiful in his life.

  “But the Hendrix has been taking in more than it should.”

  “Someone at the casino has to be working for Morelli. They fixed the odds to help the house, not the players.”

  “How could they do that?”

  “Your book.” Ryan shook his head in disbelief. Why hadn’t he seen it earlier? “It’s not a guide to playing poker. It’s a guide to cheating at poker, a hundred different tips and tricks that they could use to shift the advantage.”

  Daisy blinked twice. Dark lashes fluttered against her skin. “You read my book?”

  “Twice,” Ryan said. “Blethins and Morelli must have been using it to bring cash into the casino.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ryan was still talking—muttering something about statistical probability and the footnote in chapter five—but for once Daisy couldn’t follow what he was saying. All she could do was stand there with her mouth open, feeling like an idiot.

  The man had read her book.

  He wasn’t a mathematician or even an accountant. As a poker player, his philosophy was pretty much the exact opposite of hers, and he’d still read her damned book.

  Twice.

  That had to mean something. Didn’t it? Even if he was only back at the Hendrix for his case, he had to care about her at least a little bit.

  I love you, he’d said, but she’d shrugged the words off like they were nothing.

  Had he been telling the truth?

  Did he love her?

  Her heart fluttered in her chest.

  Did she love him?

  Hell, she did. She loved the man. He was smart, funny, and gorgeous. More importantly, he kissed like a god and genuinely cared about her.

  “The only thing I can’t figure out is the poker tournament,” Ryan said, his words finally breaking through her reverie. “It’s drawing an awful lot of attention to the Hendrix—”

  “They need the attention,” Daisy interrupted as everything seemed to click together. “I’ve read studies. The kind of operation you’re talking about—washing money, making it seem like it was earned legally—it’s not something you can do overnight. It takes months, years even, to clean a large amount of cash. And even then, you have to deal with the IRS and the gaming commission.”

  “Morelli doesn’t have that kind of time. His trial starts next week. He needs to be able to pay his lawyers now.”

  “That’s why the pot’s so big.” It wasn’t just an employee rigging things from inside the Hendrix. The entire casino had been turned upside down. “Bullet always thought ten million was a stupid number. Why waste the cheddar on a bunch of pros who aren’t even going to see any shows while they’re in town? He would have cut it, but the owner insisted. That has to be Morelli.”

  “Which means he needs Blethins to win it fair and square,” Ryan said. “They must have panicked when you showed up. Blethins is using your system. They thought you’d beat him and take the cash. That’s why they wanted you dead.”

  “But I lost.” Daisy shook her head. “I took a chance and I lost. It’s poker, after all. Nothing is certain. And now…”

  Together their heads swung toward the stage in the middle of the room. Daisy had lost the poker game and now Blethins had her chips. The lead she’d given him wasn’t completely insurmountable, but there was no reason to think he wouldn’t win.

  No reason to believe he wouldn’t turn the money over so his scoundrel of a boss could pay his debts. Legally.

  Hell.

  “Stop.” Ryan vaulted forward, racing toward the stage. “Stop the game!”

  And now the crowd was really going wild.

  “I’m with the FBI,” Ryan shouted. “I need you to put down the cards!”

  The entire room exploded into chaos.

  Fans were shouting in disbelief and players were screaming in anger.

  Security guards hurried toward the stage with Bullet stalking along a step behind them.

  If they got to Ryan first, he’d never be able to explain himself. The game would go forward and Blethins would win ten million dollars on national television. He’d use the money to help his boss and Ryan would be stuck on the same damn case, fighting Morelli in some endless cycle that left his soul battered and his body bruised.

  Worse, he might end up dead.

  It couldn’t end that way. Daisy may have let the man she loved walk away, but she couldn’t let him die. Not today. Not ever.

  The guard nearest the entrance to the stage was grabbing for Ryan, trying to hold him in place for Bullet to collect.

  Daisy couldn’t let that happen.

  She darted forward, desperate to get to Ryan. There were two men blocking her way, spectators trying to see what would happen next. She ran straight into one, then ducked and skipped forward to grab at Ryan’s arm, trying to take him bodily from the security guard.

  “I can’t let you up there,” the guard was saying to Ryan. “I’m just doing my job.”

  “I’m a federal agent,” Ryan growled.

  “And I’m making fifteen dollars an hour. I can’t get fired.”

  “Let him through,” Daisy said, trying to find some inner authority to add weight to her voice.

  “I’m sorry, Miss—”

  “Let him through.” Bullet had finally arrived, and his voice didn’t need extra authority. Some masked mobster might own the casino, but the old man was still in charge.

  Everyone let go of Ryan at once, allowing him to race up onto the stage.

  “You better know what you’re doing, Daisy,” Bullet warned.

  Her stomach clenched. This was supposed to be the fighter’s last job, an easy retirement, and now…the casino would be seized by the government and sold at auction. There would be a new owner and new management. Most of the workers would keep their jobs, but Bullet… If the mob really had been laundering money through the Hendrix, then his reputation would be shredded. He’d never work in the casino industry again.

  “You’re going to lose the Hendrix,” she warned quietly. “The owner…the new owner…he’s—”

  “Crooked as a three-dollar bill?”

  It felt like she’d been smacked in the head by a two by four. “You knew?” She gasped for air, struggling to take her next breath. “You knew and you didn’t—”

  “I didn’t know for sure.” Bullet seemed to shrink under Daisy’s gaze. “I didn’t know. That’s why I called you in, Daisy girl, I was hoping you’d find the truth…hoping it was something else…anything else…”

  “I’m sorry,” Daisy said as she followed Ryan up onto the stage. It was time to see this thing through.

  Together.

  “This tournament is over.” Ryan pulled out his badge and dropped it neatly on the ground. He gave the players a firm glare before settling his gaze on Blethins. “Put down your cards, now.”

  Veins were visible on the side of Ryan’s neck. His eyes were bright. His voice was deathly calm. Daisy wanted to reach out and take his hand. She wanted to reassure him, to tell him that she’d heard his earlier words: “I love you.”

  She wanted to say it back.

  Instead, her gaze turned as the door at the back of the room opened and men in suits began to make their way in.

  They definitely weren’t security guards, not with their wrinkled suits and hard expressions. Their guns gleamed.

  A long-legged woman stepped to the front of the group. She didn’t look happy.

  FBI.

  Daisy
blinked in recognition. She didn’t think there was enough space in the room for another body, let alone a cadre of FBI agents, but the Feds didn’t seem disturbed by the crowd. In fact, the agents at the edges of the group appeared to be hauling spectators back to make room.

  Ryan’s gaze never left Blethins’s. “It’s come to my attention that there are irregularities in the funding for this tournament. As a result, I can’t allow this game to continue.”

  Blethins leaned forward slightly. His lips were thin. His expression was harsh. His gaze moved from Daisy to Ryan and back again. He blinked then nodded. “You can’t prove anything.”

  “The FBI has excellent accountants,” Ryan said. “They’ll take a real close look at the casino’s accountants and—in the meantime—we’re going to have to put a stop to any major competitions. This should all be wrapped up in six months or so.”

  Slowly—so slowly that Daisy almost didn’t see it—Blethins’s face turned a dark, deep red. His voice was a harsh rasp. “You’re making a mistake, agent. The accountants won’t find anything.”

  “Maybe,” Daisy said. “After all, you’re very good at math.” Her hands curled into fists, but this wasn’t her kind of fight. Her battlefield was the classroom and the blackboard. Her favorite weapon was a piece of chalk. “That’s why I’m going to help.”

  “Bitch.” Blethins lunged forward, knocking his chair aside as he surged toward Daisy, his hands outstretched. “This is all your fault.” His face was a dark plum color. Spit frothed at his mouth. “You ruined everything.”

  Long fingers dug into her throat.

  Daisy gasped.

  She struggled for air.

  Bam. Ryan’s heavy fist slammed into Blethins’s face. Crunch. Bone and cartilage shattered. Blood splattered on the floor.

  And his fingers loosened.

  Daisy gasped, sucking in a deep breath. She curled over, working to draw air into her body. “Daisy.” Ryan bent down by her side. “Daisy, can you hear me?”

  “I can hear you.” Her lungs were burning. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to speak. The entire world was wavering before her eyes. She blinked, struggling to stay conscious. “I love you” she said, forcing the words out. They were so soft, she didn’t know if Ryan could hear her. “I love you,” she repeated. And then the world went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Thud. Thud. The knock on the door was bright and eager.

  Daisy checked her watch. It was eight thirty in the morning. Classes had just started for the semester and she had less than an hour to get to campus for her first meeting.

  Thud. The knock came again.

  She sighed and went to answer the door.

  “Hi.” The man on the other side was tall, blond, and gorgeous. When he grinned, her heart soared. Ryan wasn’t supposed to be in Los Angeles for another two days, but he must have caught an earlier flight out.

  It had been almost two months since their time in Las Vegas, two months of late-night phone calls and constant text messaging. Ryan had gone back to New York and Daisy had returned to Los Angeles, but they hadn’t stopped communicating about the weather, about the case—Morelli hadn’t been able to pay his lawyer and had ended up serving twenty to life—and about their lives. They’d even managed to squeeze in a few long weekends.

  He dumped his duffel on the floor in the hall and stepped into the living room. “Ma’am, I’m a law enforcement officer and I’m sorry to say that your neighbors have reported some unusual noises coming from this house. Have you been participating in extremely loud sex?”

  “Not recently.”

  “Want to?” He winked before bending down to kiss her. His teeth skimmed her lips. His tongue moved into her mouth, tasting her. A muscled arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her even closer, and the rest of the world dropped away.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching him tight as they stumbled through the room. The texting had been great, but this…this was what she’d been missing.

  “You—we need—” Ryan managed to separate his mouth from hers. He took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

  Daisy’s heart skipped a beat. Did those words ever mean anything good? “No, we don’t.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes, we do. I’ve wanted to talk to you—really talk to you for a while—but I was waiting until the case was over. Now it’s over.”

  Daisy knew that. Hell, she’d even helped, spending hours unraveling the Hendrix’s books. Thank God for FBI accountants because she would have gone crazy doing the entire thing herself. But she’d definitely helped figure out the flow of money… Morelli wasn’t the only one going to jail for life. Blethins had been arrested on multiple counts of conspiracy and financial fraud.

  Of course it had meant retirement for Bullet, but the old man claimed it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He’d started traveling all over the country, including visits to Los Angeles where he was talking about attending one of Daisy’s classes. “I always wanted to know what you were talking about,” he’d told her the last time he’d come through. “Now’s my chance. You teach some kind of Math for Dummies course?”

  She’d insisted he wasn’t a dummy and put him in touch with one of the university’s outreach coordinators. Everything had been coming together.

  Now this.

  She forced herself to smile at Ryan. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “You want to get breakfast first?”

  “I don’t do breakfast.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I want to talk about.” He walked past her into the house’s sunny kitchen, pausing to pour himself a cup of coffee before he began to rustle through her refrigerator. “I’ll make us something quick. Eggs and toast.”

  “You don’t need to make me breakfast.”

  “Yes, I do.” He pulled out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread and put them carefully on the counter. Then he started to rummage through her cupboards looking for oil and herbs. His broad shoulders filled the small space. Blue jeans cupped his thighs and pulled tight across his ass when he bent down to grab a pan from under the counter. He put the pan on the stove, turning on the burner, and then added a splash of oil.

  “I need to make you breakfast.” He cracked two eggs into the pan and turned to face Daisy. “I told you that I loved you once, and you told me to say it again when the case was over. Now, it’s over.” He looked her square in the eye. “I love you, Daisy Adams, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life, and if—” His breath caught in his throat. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll be happy to prove it by making you breakfast every day for the rest of your life.”

  Fire erupted across Daisy’s skin. Her heart was beating too fast. Her entire body felt hot. “You don’t need to make me breakfast. I know you love me and I…I love you, too,” she said. The feelings were genuine, and every time she said the words, they came just a little bit easier. “I’ll always love you.”

  “Good to know,” Ryan said. “Does that mean I can stay here while I’m looking for a place to live?”

  A place to live. Daisy blinked in surprise. “You’re moving to Los Angeles?”

  “Yup, I’ve got a line on a few places now. If I want any real space, I’ll have to move to the valley, but I figure I can get a studio or something to be closer to you. We can take things slow—date like a normal couple and really get to know each other, whatever you want.”

  “What about your job?”

  “I put in for a transfer a month ago. The paperwork just went through.” Ryan grinned. “My new position isn’t quite as exciting as my last one—I’m going to be working in the white collar division instead of organized crime—but it’s the only thing they had available in Los Angeles. It’s worth it to be close to you. You’re more important to me than any job—any case.”

  Daisy swallowed hard. “Turn the stove off.”

  “I can’t.” His brow furrowed. His lips twitched downwards. He looked like he’d been stung. “I’m making b
reakfast.”

  “Forget about breakfast,” she said. “I’ve got to be at work in an hour and I don’t want to waste my time on food. Not when you’re looking so delicious.”

  “Oh.” Ryan turned off the stove. He grinned. “You think I’m delicious?”

  “Good enough to eat.” She threw herself into his arms. She had him now and she was never going to let him go. “Forget finding somewhere else. You’re going to live here—with me—and we can spend the rest of our lives getting to know each other. Okay?”

  “Perfect,” Ryan said, and then he was lifting her off her feet and carrying her into the living room. His kisses were warm, familiar, and urgent. He laid her down on the couch, his big body covering hers as he scrambled to pull her shirt free from her jeans. “So, Miss Adams, what do you want to bet we can wake the neighbors?”

  “I don’t have anything to bet. You’ve already won my heart.” She grinned. “If you win, we’ll do it twice before breakfast.”

  “And if I lose?”

  “Once before breakfast…and once after.”

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  About the Author

  Aleah Barley is a writer of humorous (she hopes) contemporary romance. After living all over the United States, she’s finally settled in the frozen north with a fluffy cat who doubles as a hot water bottle. She is hard at work on her next book.

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