by West, Dahlia
Chris reached out and grabbed Tex’s arm. “Don’t eat it! The cake is a lie!”
Tex cocked his head at Chris and then eyed the cake. “Looks okay.”
“It’s not,” Chris insisted. “It’s a no sugar, no gluten, no fun cake.”
Tex looked at Slick who smiled sweetly at him. “I would never do that to you,” she told Tex.
Tex nodded and shoved a forkful into his mouth. He groaned. “Ohhhh. Mmmm. Yeah okay. I see what’s going on here. You have a head injury or something,” he told Chris with his mouth full. “Because this is the damn cake in the world!” To Hayley he asked, “Why is this cake so good?”
“Sour cream and dark chocolate,” she replied.
“What?” Chris shouted. “I didn’t get Sour Cream! Or chocolate! I got fake cake!”
“Well, she doesn’t like you,” Hawk pointed out, munching on his own uber-sized slice. “But she likes us.”
“Apparently,” said Doc, licking buttercream frosting off his fingers.
Chris threw up his hands. “I can’t believe this! Why do they get real cake?”
“You know why,” Hayley told him matter of factly.
Chris gaped at Hayley then tried to grab Tex’s plate. “Give me some!”
Tex smacked his arm and moved away. “No! You had a failure to communicate. Now you don’t get cake!”
“I order you to give me that cake!”
“I defy those orders,” Tex said, shoving a large hunk into his mouth. “This is so worth the stockade,” he declared.
“This is my house! That is my cake!” Chris yelled. He turned on Hayley. “You gave my cake away, woman!”
“Surely you’ll have a birthday at some point,” Hayley replied cooly. “Maybe I’ll make you a cake then.”
Hawk laughed. “His birthday is like two months away.”
“You people suck!” Chris shouted and stormed outside. He flopped down onto one of the deck chairs. He heard the screen door open, but he didn’t turn.
“Chris,” Hayley said quietly.
“Go away. I’m angry.”
“Chris,” she admonished.
“Seriously. Go back inside.”
Hayley put a hand on his shoulder, leaned down and set a plate in front of him. He blinked at it. It was a whole little mini-cake. His heart leapt for joy, but he kept his voice cool. “Is it real?”
“Very,” Hayley assured him. “And it’s all for you.”
Chris took the fork she handed him and shaved off a piece. He brought it to his lips and experienced cake nirvana. “You’re very dangerous,” he informed her, taking a bigger bite. “Very devious. If you had enough money and a small army, you could take over the whole country. And no one would care because you’re so damn cute.”
“Of course they wouldn’t mind. I’d let them eat cake,” Hayley replied, grinning.
Chris finished off his mini-cake and headed back inside. The boys settled at the table and Doc started dealing the cards. Hayley gathered the cake plates and started washing them. “I can do that tomorrow,” Chris called out to her.
“It’s fine,” she assured him, filling the sink with water.
Chris would have grumbled, but his belly was full of delicious sour cream, dark chocolate cake and he was still riding the sugar high.
Hayley finished the dishes and wiped down the counters. Chris watched her out of the corner of his eye. She tossed the papertowel into the trash and headed over to the table to grab Tex’s empty beer bottle.
“I told you to stop doing that,” Chris told her. “You’re off work. You don’t clean up after them.”
“I’m not doing anything else,” she pointed out and tossed the bottle into the recycling bin.
“How come you never do what you’re told?” Chris asked.
“You play poker, Slick?” Tex asked.
She came up behind him and put her arm over his shoulder, leaning down to look at his cards. Chris watched without watching, noticing that of all his men, ironically, Tex was the one she gravitated to the most. He chalked that up to Tex’s overly friendly demeanor. He also noted that for all his ‘friendliness’ Tex never, ever touched Slick unless she touched him first. Even in public at Maria’s. Chris further noticed that Slick’s personal contact was always rewarded by Tex with a gentle squeeze of the shoulder or a pat on the arm, and he knew enough about Tex to know that that reassurance was not nearly as haphazard and casual as it appeared.
Chris watched Slick inspect Tex’s cards then shake her head. “No. I don’t play. Aren’t Aces ones? If that’s true you should stop betting ‘cause that’s a really low score, Tex.”
Tex laughed. Hawk frowned. “She’s bluffing,” Hawk declared.
“Maybe,” Hayley said.
Hawk upped his bet and Tex attempted to get one card from Doc, who was the dealer.
“Two cards,” Hayley said, taking one from Tex’s hand and tossing it onto the top of the card he’d just laid down.
“Oh, now wait a minute,” Tex protested.
Hawk grinned. “Too late. Card’s already on the table.”
Tex scowled. “Woman! That was a perfectly good hand!”
“Uh huh,” she said dismissively. “Two please,” she told Caleb. Caleb dealt out two cards and Tex, grudgingly, picked them up.
He glowered at her. “That was friendly conversation. Not an invitation to fuck up my hand. I don’t-” He paused and looked at the cards. Then he looked at Hayley. “How did you do that?” She shrugged. “No, really, how the hell did you do that?”
“Well, I’ve been watching the game,” she finally said. “So I just, you know, knew.”
Tex stared at her and then grinned. “Cheater.”
“No!” Hayley scoffed. “It’s only cheating when you do it. When I do it, it’s totally not cheating.”
“Uh huh. What is it when you do it?” Tex asked.
“Survival! I’ve played for food and rent money! You’re doing it for fun. It’s totally not the same,” she insisted.
“Ever been caught?” Tex asked.
She smiled sheepishly. “In Vegas.”
Tex grinned. “Yeah, they don’t like it when you count the cards, Slick.”
“No,” she agreed, “but they still let you keep the money after they catch you.”
Tex considered this. “Do I have the best hand?” he finally asked.
She gave him a look. “You have a good hand.”
“Yeah, but is it the best hand?”
She shook her head. “I can’t tell you. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“It’s cheating, Slick. It’s already not fair!” Tex argued.
“I already have enough money for rent and food this month. And so do you. We can’t cheat your friends. It would be wrong.”
“They’re not my friends! They’re my brothers. We can totally clean them out!” Tex insisted.
“Nope, sorry,” she told him. “Play your hand or fold.”
Tex grumbled, but stuck with his hand. He was elated when his four of a kind beat Hawk’s two pair. They played two more hands. Chris won the first, Doc the second. Hayley brought Doc another beer, but Tex wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Come here, Slick, sit on my lap and help me cheat. I’m down four hands.”
Hayley allowed herself to be lowered into Tex’s lap. “I told you I don’t cheat,” she protested and tried to hand Doc his beer.
Tex pushed the bottle back toward her. “Drink this, let go of your moral code, and help me win this hand,” he ordered. “I’ll tip you tomorrow night at work. A lot.”
Hayley took a sip of the beer and sighed. “Well, you already messed this hand up,” she informed Tex.
“God damn it,” he muttered. “I knew it!”
“Fold,” Hayley told him. “You’re just giving the winner more money.”
Tex folded and pulled Hayley back against him. “Who’s got the best hand?” he whispered loudly.
“Not you,” she whispered back and e
veryone laughed. She leaned her head against Tex’s shoulder. “I could play if you had two decks,” she mused. “I can’t count more than one deck. I could buy a tube pan.”
“What’s a tube pan?” Doc asked.
“Um,” Hayley said, taking another pull off her beer. “Like, a fluted, dome thing. For making stuff like pineapple upside-down cake.”
“Oh, yeah,” Hawk said. “With the cherries?”
“With the cherries,” Hayley replied.
“I like cherries,” Hawk told her.
Hayley snorted. “So not touching that,” she replied. Everyone laughed.
An hour later, Tex accused Hawk of using his Indian mojo to win at cards and Hayley laughed so hard beer nearly came out her nose.
“Slick,” Tex said admonishingly. “You’ve only had two beers.”
“I don’t drink,” she slurred.
“Clearly,” Tex replied, shaking his head. “Now focus. We’re down three hands.”
“You can’t win them all,” she chided. “Wouldn’t be fair.”
“Is Shooter bluffing?” Tex asked.
Hayley rolled her head on Tex’s shoulder and looked at Chris. “Shooter’s always bluffing,” she announced.
“Oooooh,” said the guys.
“Ouch,” said Hawk.
“It’s true!” she insisted. “He has a tell. When he’s full of shit he-”
Chris reached out and covered her mouth with his hand. “I do not have a tell,” he said sternly.
“Mmm hmm,” Hayley said into his hand.
Chris stood up and gathered her in his arms. “Come on, Slick. You’re drunk and obviously not thinking clearly. There is no way I have a tell.” He hauled her up and walked down the hall with her. He entered the spare bedroom and laid her on the small bed.
“Um,” she said. “I should go home.”
“Negative. You’re out of it and I don’t feel like carrying you all the way over there.”
She started to sit up. “I can walk.”
Chris pushed her shoulder back down on the mattress. “Go to sleep.” He pulled off her canvas shoes and tossed them on the floor. “Besides, if I keep you here, maybe you’ll make me pancakes in the morning.”
“Chris,” she said quietly, and he turned to look at her. She crooked her finger and he half smiled, moving closer and leaning down over her. She reached up, slid her hands behind his neck and pulled him down lower. When they were inches from each other, she whispered, “The left corner of your mouth twitches.”
It took him a minute to process what she’d said. “What?”
“That’s your tell.”
He grinned at her. “Now, see I thought you were staring at my mouth all night because you wanted to kiss me.”
She gasped. “I definitely don’t want to kiss you.”
He nodded sagely. “Because my hair’s too short. You’re holding out for a Highlander. I hate to disappoint you, Slick. But I don’t think there are that many around these parts. Or pirates, either.”
She sighed and let her arms drop. “Plenty of army rangers, though,” she mumbled into the pillow.
Chris smiled. “None of them is going to kiss you, Slick.”
“Why not?”
“Because I ordered them not to.”
Hayley sighed and pulled the covers up over herself. “I miss kissing,” she mumbled and then fell asleep. Chris leaned down and press his lips to her forehead then strode the door and locked it behind him.
Chapter 13
Hayley woke up with a dull headache and blinked at the ceiling. It took her a minute to realize she wasn’t in her own bedroom. She looked around at the sparse furnishings and lack of clutter and realized she must be in Chris’ spare bedroom. She listened intently at a rumbling sound coming from the other side of the door and realized it was the sound of the shower in Chris’ master bedroom.
Quietly, she slipped on her canvas shoes, eased open the bedroom door and made a beeline for the back door through the kitchen. She’d slept well, and that was a welcome change, but she didn’t want to deal with any awkwardness this morning. She silently shut the door behind her and jogged to her own house. Sighing in relief when she was safely inside, not having had to face Chris. She smiled, though, as she leaned against the door as she remembered the good time she’d had last night with his friends. Poker Night would turn out to be fun.
The next week she’d had an idea forming in the back of her mind and decided to do something about it. She laid out bread and a paper bag on her kitchen counter and set to work. When she was finished, she slipped on a jacket and grabbed the bag and set off toward Chris’ garage several blocks away. When she arrived, she crossed the lot, ducked into the large bay area and found Chris and Hawk underneath a large pickup truck. Chris noticed her, and the bag she was carrying, and slid out.
“Slick,” he intoned, wiping his hands on the rag in his back pocket.
She held up the bag. “I made lunch,” she announced. “For everyone,” she added.
“Well good, because you ducked out on me last Friday morning and I didn’t get pancakes,” he chastised. Chris gestured to the door at the back and she followed him through it. In the small break room, she laid out the bag’s contents. Chris washed his hands and sat down at the table. Hayley watched intently as he picked up his ham and cheese sandwich. He paused before taking a bite. “This isn’t a No Fun sandwich, is it?”
“What? No. There’s cream cheese, Parmigiano-Reggiano, and fresh chives in there. Total fun.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Cream cheese? Really?” She nodded and he took a bite. His eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh. Oh, Slick. This…is a sandwich.”
“You like?”
“I love.”
“Sweet. Do you have a blowtorch I could borrow?”
Chris choked a bit on the sandwich and had to rinse it down, eyeing her warily. “Come again?”
“Blowtorch.”
Hawk came in, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Lunch. Nice,” he declared rounding the table. Then he caught sight of Chris’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking suspiciously at the sandwiches. “They’re not vegan are they?”
“She wants a blowtorch.”
Hawk’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Hayley. “For what?”
“Dessert,” she replied.
Chris watched Hawk consider this. The large sioux didn’t even ask what kind of dessert required such a thing. All he asked was, “Have you ever used a blowtorch before?”
Hayley shook her head. “No, but I read about it in a cook book and I can totally do it. I read it so many times I have mad blowtorch skills now.”
“Mad blowtorch skills,” Hawk repeated. “Without ever having actually touched a blowtorch?”
“Totally,” she declared.
Tex came in and snagged a sandwich. “What’s up, Slick? What’s this? Ham and Cheese?”
“Slick wants a blowtorch,” Hawk told him.
Tex looked at Hayley. “Need some welding done?”
She shook her head. “Making dessert. For you guys. And dinner, too. For poker night. It’s special.”
“Oh, hell yeah,” Tex announced. “Give her one of the small ones,” he said to Chris.
“Wait a minute!” Chris argued. “She doesn’t even know how to use one!”
“Sure she does,” Hawk interjected. “Read a book and everything.”
“Oh, well, if she read the book, sure,” Tex agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “Even better.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Chris cried. “You two are on board with this?”
“Well, we’re gonna supervise her,” Tex said, as though this was obvious. “Duh. Come on. Give the little woman a blowtorch. This could be good.”
“Definitely entertaining,” added Hawk.
Chris rubbed his face with a free hand. “I…” Three pairs of eyes were pinning him down. “I will bring you a blowtorch,” he acquiesced. Hayley squealed. “You will be supervised!�
� he informed her. “Do not make me regret this!”
“Mad skills!” she insisted, headed toward the door, trying to escape before he changed his mind he figured. Which was probably a good idea. Because the whole blowtorch thing sounded like a very bad idea and he couldn’t believe he’d agreed to it.