by Carolina Mac
“Tuesday morning, I’m going to put our plan into action and we will have a definite departure date and all the rest of it. There is a ton of stuff to plan, but I’m primed.”
“I can’t get it into my head that we’re going to Vegas,” he shook his head. “I’ve seen the movies and the stuff on TV, everybody has. Every biker’s dream is to play poker at Bellagio. At least this biker.”
“Tomorrow’s a practice day, so let’s get some sleep. I don’t want to look too stunned my first day at the table.”
“Can I have another one of those good night kisses before you go up?”
I circled around the table and sat on Jackson’s knee. I put my arms around his neck and messed up his hair. His arms encircled me and pulled me in close to him as I pressed my lips to his. He was sweaty from his run and he tasted like smokes and beer, but he was all male. He held me on his knee for several minutes, kissing me and holding me. He was much gentler than George. My eyes filled with tears.
CHAPTER FIVE
Monday, September 3rd.
LABOUR DAY
WE ARRIVED AT the poker pit around noon. He had called the casino in the morning, given our names, and we were almost at the top of the list on the screen when we checked in. “I’m nervous,” I said as I punched money out of the bank machine.
“I don’t think you’ll need more money than we have already,” said Jackson.
“What if I lose all my chips?”
“You won’t if you play the way we practiced. You’re starting on a five-ten table, so it won’t be a big deal.” He reached out, pulled me close to him and whispered, “You’ve got the brains for this game and with what you’re wearing, those dumb fucks don’t stand a chance.”
Jackson had more confidence in me than I did. “I need a beer.”
“They’re calling your name now, so order from the waitress after you sit down.”
I had butterflies in my stomach as I gave Jackson a quick kiss, bought my chips at the cashier, and followed the poker boss to my seat. I was seated in seat seven, across from the dealer and had a perfect view of the cards and the other players.
The dealer turned to me. “Do you want to come in now or wait one hand until the big blind?”
“I’ll wait,” I said, trying to remember everything Jackson had taught me to say. I looked up as he passed my table on the way to take his seat and he winked at me. The next hand was my big blind and I tossed my chips in. My cards were King-Ten and nobody raised. The flop came Ten-Ten-Two. Small blind checked, I checked. Seat nine bet. Everyone folded around to me. I called. The turn card was a Five. I bet. Seat nine raised and I called. The river card was a Nine. I bet. Seat nine raised and I called. He flipped over Queen-Ten and I had King-Ten. I won the pot. I pulled in my chips and stacked them, heaving a big sigh of relief. My first hand was over. When the waitress came around I ordered a beer and sent one over to Jackson. The next five hands I folded and after that, I played extremely tight.
An hour later, I took a stroll around to stretch my legs and cruised by Jackson’s table to see how many chips he had. He had a couple more rows than he started with and was smiling. Around five o’clock, he stood behind me with racks of red in his hand.
“Done, sweetie?” I asked.
He nodded and walked towards the cashier. I finished up the hand I was in, racked my chips and left the table. When I cashed out, I was up two hundred for my first day.
On the way home, we talked about the game and different hands we had played and Jackson explained to me about the bad beat jackpot. He was so animated and excited to be doing what he loved, it brought tears to my eyes.
“Do you want to eat on the way, or have burgers when we get home?”
“Let’s eat at home,” he said, squeezing my hand. Yep. A hand-holder.
Dusk had fallen when we turned into the driveway and the house was framed in shadows. With the Victorian turret rising from the front entrance it looked like a haunted house.
“A good day,” I said, jumping down out of the Hummer.
“Very good,” he nodded.
Jackson chugged a beer and poured mine into a glass while I barbecued burgers and dished up potato salad. I filled Angel’s bowls after we ate, then cleared up and put the dishes into the dishwasher. Reflecting on the day, I realized how tired I was. “I’m tired from all that thinking.”
“I have to concentrate on all the other players if I want to win,” Jackson said.
“I haven’t started doing that yet. I have to concentrate on myself and the cards. It’ll be awhile yet before I even try to guess what the other players have.”
“You did amazing for your first try, Portia. My first live game, I lost my chips in half an hour. It takes time to develop the patience you need for the game. When we go to Vegas a lot of the games will be no limit, so we will have to practice that before we go.”
“I have never known a more patient man than you, Jackson. I love that about you.”
“Anything else you love about me?”
“I love kissing you. That’s a fact that I can’t deny.”
He held out his arms. “Want to do that now?”
I walked over and sat on his knee. We kissed and cuddled and he stroked my long hair. “This feels like high school,” he said with a laugh.
“Not to me, honey boy,” I whispered. I’m not emotionally stable and you know that better than anyone. I want you in the worst way, but it would kill me to lead you on and then disappoint you.”
“You’ve been through so much, Annie. The Kenny thing, the bombing, then the boss. More than one girl should have to deal with.”
“Going to Vegas will do me the world of good. Getting away from here and forgetting about all that crap,” I said, rumpling Jackson’s hair. He moaned as I kissed his neck and ran my free hand under his shirt and over his rock-hard abs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be touching you.”
I pried myself away from his warm body and hid my tears as I bolted through the kitchen door and up the stairs.
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN I PASSED by the guest room on my way to the workout room, the sight of Jackson’s nakedness sprawled on his bed gave me a start. His muscular taut body lay relaxed in slumber, his breathing was rhythmic. My eyes fixated on his tanned skin and his tattoos. His body was truly a work of art. I sucked in a breath, lingered a moment more than I should have, then averted my eyes. Too late. Warm stirrings in my private parts reminded me that I was a woman. A passionate woman. One who’d been without a man for a long time.
After my exercise routine, I started the coffee and retrieved the paper from the front porch out of habit, placing it on the dining room table. Another thing I would have to do before Vegas—cancel the paper. I had just poured my first mug of coffee when I heard Jackson descending the stairs. I filled a mug for him and set it on the table in the window alcove.
He came into the kitchen without saying a word, laced his arms around my neck and kissed my hair. I stood up and held him in my arms. He was fresh from the shower and smelled like soap and lemons. I brushed his black hair back from his face and kissed him. “Things will be different for us, soon.”
Jackson said nothing. He buried his face in my hair and held me close. After a few moments, he released me and sat down at the table in front of the coffee I’d poured him. I passed him the cream and the sugar bowl. “Thanks,” he said, avoiding eye contact.
“What’s wrong?” I touched his hand as he stirred in his fourth spoonful of sugar.
“Never been this happy, and I’m scared shitless something will go wrong and take it all away.”
“Things go wrong in life every day. But you and I—nothing will go wrong—I won’t let it.” I stroked his hair. “Cheer up now, I’m going to cook you some bacon and eggs.”
After breakfast, I showered and dressed for a day of errands and planning.
“Where to first?” Jackson asked when we got into the Hummer.
“Passport Office, we have to see
how long it will take to get our passports and then we can work our travel plans around that time frame.”
“Makes sense. I’m glad one of us has a working brain.”
“You have an excellent working brain in lots of areas,” I said, rubbing his arm.
“I love it when you touch me,” he said barely audible.
At the passport office, we took numbers and waited our turn. We filled out all of the information, left to have our photos taken and signed at my lawyer’s office, returned and handed the documents in. The lady at the front desk told us we were looking at five business days for delivery.
“Allowing an extra day and two days for the weekend that means we could possibly leave on the thirteenth. Let’s make it the fourteenth just to be sure,” I said.
“September fourteenth. I like the sound of that,” Jackson said. “Where to next?”
“CAA office. We need maps and a trip guide. I looked up the closest one and it’s in the mall.” We found the bustling little office, full of people planning their next getaway. Jackson again took a number and offered me the only available seat while we waited our turn. We emerged carrying a bagful of maps, books of attractions for each state we would be passing through, and the trip booklet showing a yellow line all the way to Vegas.
“Let’s go home, reorganize, let Angel out and have some lunch.”
“I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving. I heard there are lots of fabulous restaurants in Vegas, and lots of steak houses.”
I fixed smoked meat sandwiches on rye bread with dill pickles and coleslaw, opened a couple of beers and carried the tray out to the patio where Jackson was smoking and throwing the purple Kong for Angel. “You haven’t been smoking as much, or am I imagining that?”
“Trying to cut back,” he said. “My concentration will be better at the poker table if I don’t think about smoking every ten minutes. Of course, now I think about you every ten minutes,” he chuckled.
“I’m proud of your effort.” I hugged his neck. When we finished munching down our sandwiches, I said. “We need to get the Hummer and both bikes serviced before we leave. And Angel has to visit the vet’s and get all her shots updated to cross the border.”
“I’ll call and get an appointment for the bikes at the Harley garage for tomorrow and the Hummer at the dealership for the following day.”
“You can drop me at the hair salon while you’re at the garage and I’ll get a haircut.”
“We sound efficient.” He grinned and winked at me.
“Don’t we?”
After lunch, Jackson spent time in the garage fiddling with the bikes. I tried to boot up the laptop in the study to look for hotels in Vegas. My technical know-how was lacking. I had no idea what I was doing. I headed to the garage to ask for help and as I opened the door I overheard him on his phone.
“It’s only two weeks. Can’t you assholes hold it together for two weeks? If she’s out of the country, you can push them as hard as you want and what are they gonna do. Fuck all. Use your head,” he hollered.
I closed the door wondering what was going on in the club. Obviously, it had to do with me and it was causing Jackson a lot of stress. I grabbed a Coke out of the fridge, poured it into a glass and took it out to the garden. I needed to find out what was going on.
Who could the Regulators push if I was out of the country?
I sucked in a breath and tried to think of more pleasant topics—like my garden. Now that September had arrived, the asters and zinnias were in full bloom. The summer blooms of pink and fuchsia had been replaced by harvest hues of orange and rust. None of the maple trees had started to turn color, but the change was in the offing and you could smell it in the air. I sat on my favorite rickety bench at the back of the garden and drank my Coke deep in thought. When I glanced up, Jackson had appeared at the patio door.
“I couldn’t find you. What are you doing way back there?”
“Thinking about you.”
Not a total lie.
He grinned as he walked barefoot through the grass towards me. “Nice and cool back here, kind of a secret garden.” He sat down on the bench beside me and held my hand.
“Want a drink of my Coke?” I asked.
“No. I’ll get one in a minute.”
“I tried to look for hotels on the computer, but I bunged it up. How did you learn?”
“At the Harley store, everything was computerized—the sales, the inventory, the parts department. I had to know how to access all of it, being the manager.”
“Of course, I forgot about the store,” I said. “Matthew never let me touch his computer, so I never learned. He paid all the bills on his laptop, but he would never show me. I realize now he was consciously trying to keep me ignorant and dependent.”
“Was Matthew your husband? You never mention him.”
“A period of my life I would rather forget. Lots of violent memories,” I shuddered as I stood up and Jackson put his arm around me.
“Let’s go see if we can find any hotels,” he said.
On the desk in the study, I spread out the information we had picked up at the CAA office earlier in the day. “The lady that organized our trip said it would in all likelihood take us four days to get to Vegas and we would arrive on the eighteenth. Oh, my god. I’m getting so excited, just talking about it. I never realized how badly I wanted to get away from this house and all the crap that happened here.”
Jackson had been flipping through the books of hotels and attractions, while I was getting the maps spread out. “All the hotels have websites, so we can go straight to the ones we want and look at the pictures and the rates. Pick any one and I’ll show you.”
“You said you wanted to play poker at the Bellagio. Let’s look at that one.”
“I think that might be a little pricey. Pretty fuckin’ fancy.”
“Let’s look at the pictures,” I said, sitting on Jackson’s lap.
“You make me forget what I’m doing when you’re so close to me.”
“That’s my job,” I said, “If it wasn’t for distracting you, I’d be unemployed.”
“I’ll never fire you,” he pulled my long hair back and kissed my neck.
“Thanks.”
“Holy hell, look at those chandeliers,” He pointed a finger at the screen.
“That must be the lobby. Looks massive. Can you show me a picture of the rooms, and see if they allow dogs?”
Jackson clicked on something and another screen came up. “Bellagio is pet-friendly along with a lot of other hotels on the strip. The rooms look great in the pictures, but you don’t know how old the pictures are. What do you think?”
“Go ahead and book a week starting on the eighteenth and that will give us time to see where the best games are. Do you need a credit card number?”
“I guess so. I’ve never booked a hotel online before.” He gave a little chuckle. “I’m a virgin.”
“Liar.”
He smiled. “This is the total in US dollars with tax for a week. Fuck, Portia, are you sure you want that amount on your card?”
“Sure. I’m loaded.”
“You’re funny,” Jackson said. “That’s done. I’m printing our confirmation. This is giving me fuckin’ shivers.”
“You give me shivers, bad boy,” I whispered.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TORRENTS OF RAIN bouncing off the bedroom window startled me awake. Jagged forks of lightning illuminated the black sky and sent shivers up the back of my neck. Angel whined, resting her big brown paws on the side of the bed and licking my face. The alarm clock read five-thirty. I blew out a breath, turned over, closed my eyes tight so I couldn’t see the lightning and tried to go back to sleep.
“Are you okay, Portia? I heard Angel whining.”
“Yeah, it’s just the storm. Angel hates it. Her nails clicking on the hardwood woke me with her pacing back and forth to the window. Go back to sleep.”
Jackson stroked Angel’
s head and she lay down beside the bed. “How about I lay here on top of the duvet until the thunder is over?”
I draped my arm over him, cuddled in close and closed my eyes. I had almost succeeded in falling asleep when a deafening clap of thunder sounded overhead. I put my hands over my ears and cried out in pain.
Jackson sat up and took me in his arms. “What is it, honey? Are you scared?”
“It’s my ears,” I whispered. “Loud noises bother me since the bomb.”
Jackson rocked me in his arms and held me close until I went back to sleep. When I woke, the storm had passed and the rain had downgraded to drizzle. I was alone in the bed but the beckoning aroma of coffee wafted up from downstairs, telling me where Jackson was.
He glanced up from the paper and smiled at me as I trudged into the kitchen. “I wanted you to sleep. You had a rough night.”
“Thanks. I’m okay now,” I encircled his shoulders with both arms and kissed his neck.
“I have an early appointment for the bikes. What time is your hair cut?”
“Eleven,” I said, pouring myself a mug of coffee.
“I’ll be back by then. Jimmie will sit on the front porch while I’m gone. There is no fuckin way I’m leaving you alone for two hours. I don’t like leaving you, even for a minute.”
“I don’t think you need to have a soldier here while you’re away. That’s a little over the top, don’t you think? I have my gun, and Angel is always at the ready to rip a sizeable chunk out of someone.” I sat down across from him and tried to get a read. His eyes were clear and steady as he looked at me. Hard to tell. Jackson didn’t give much away. “I can do without Jimmie on the front porch. It’s not like someone is trying to kill me, or anything.”
Jackson raised his eyebrows and inhaled. He spoke in a flat even tone and I could tell that it was forced. “I’ll feel better with Jimmie out there while I’m gone. This way you won’t have to come with me and hang around the garage until the bikes are done.”
I shrugged thinking Jackson was being overly concerned with my well-being. Maybe he wasn’t. Should I be afraid? I wanted to ask him but knew he wouldn’t answer any questions. He played by the rules. Club rules.