The table laughed nearly as one. Instead of joining the nervous twitters, MJ took the lesson to heart, folding her hands on the table and rubbing her tiny tree with her thumb. Doyle noted her lack of laughter and folded hands, his lips twitching with obvious amusement.
“So, this is how this will go, yeah. You each have five thousand dollars in chips. We’re going to play for three hours. If anyone can knock me out, I’ll pay his—or her—entry into the Global Poker Finals.”
The table straightened up. Now they were talking. MJ sighed softly while her brain danced in excitement at the prospect of this shortcut to the GPFs.
Doyle turned to her.
“Am I boring you?”
MJ licked her lips.
“You asked me to fake it like I’ve been here before. If that’s the case, wouldn’t beating you be run-of-the-mill?”
Doyle’s eyes dipped to the name tag stuck on her chest. “MJ, love, beating me is never boring.”
MJ couldn’t help a quick intake of breath. He really was attractive, especially when his clear blue eyes were so focused.
The dealer shuffled the deck and dealt the cards with precision and speed—a machine couldn’t have been more consistent. Everything in this room was more intense than at home—the pumped-in scent, the players, and the stakes. Hell, even the coffee was significantly better.
“There is one last difference between this and a regular game. Since this is a lesson, we’ll talk about each hand afterward, right.”
And the game began. Cards, bets, dissection of play. As they played, Doyle commented on what their moves revealed to him—telling them not only whether they had weak or strong cards, but what those cards were, explaining his thought process thoroughly. MJ absorbed it all, thirsty for the poker knowledge peppered with his outrageous tales of games past. MJ had dismissed Doyle as a poker playboy, but he really was a gifted teacher. She even learned what he used the pale green disk for—it was his card protector.
On top of the table, Doyle performed tricks with his chips, making them dance across his knuckles or pop from the palm of his hand, all the while keeping up a steady stream of banter. At the end of the three hours, Doyle held most of the chips, with MJ in a distant second. She had held her own and knocked out a few of her tablemates. Not too shabby, if she did say so herself, even though she was pretty distracted by the flirtation.
“Not bad. And you’ll notice I didn’t lose my bet. That’s the final lesson—only make bets you know you can win. Now, if anyone has any last questions, hit me.”
The young pups peppered him with questions about what to do in specific situations, what he was thinking during the last GPF, and asked for selfies with him. MJ didn’t need to stroke his ego by asking for one, too, even if Chris would love to see a picture of his poker idol.
Doyle grabbed her hand as MJ rose to leave. His hand was warm and soft on her skin, while zapping electricity up her arm. His blue eyes stood in bright contrast to the thick, dark lashes lining his lids. Groomed scruff defined a strong jaw and framed full lips that curved easily and often. The man could charm the habit off a nun, and MJ was no nun.
“Perhaps you’d like a picture with me, too?”
MJ shrugged. Act like you’ve been there before. “Sure.”
She pulled her phone from her back pocket, but he took it from her hand. “I have longer arms.”
He positioned her slightly in front of him so she was pressed against his right side and his face was next to her left ear while his left arm held the camera aloft. She could see their image on the phone’s screen. His lips were right next to her ear and his right hand settled on her right shoulder, pulling her in closer.
“Smile,” he whispered.
MJ blinked. Click.
Before handing the phone back, he texted himself the picture.
She grabbed the phone back and stepped away to look at the photo. It was intimate. He wasn’t looking into the camera, but at her, while her eyes were half-closed with a sleepy smile on her face. What game was he playing?
The two blondes sidled to him. “Doyle? We want to go to the pool.” One pouted.
MJ turned from the threesome and saw that Jerry was getting ready to leave, too. She waved to him so he’d come say good-bye. He was comforting and good company, reminding her a bit of the Gents.
“You’ve been a pleasure to play with,” he said.
“Aren’t you a doll? If you’re interested, I’d love it if you joined my friend and me sometime while we’re all here.” MJ kissed him on the cheek as he left.
“How do I get one of those?” Doyle asked.
MJ looked at him and his leggy models.
“You earn it,” MJ said. She walked out of the lounge, letting the door shut behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
MJ leaned against a faux-stone wall near a replica of the Blarney Stone in the Castle Shops, waiting for Lisa to meet her for some promised shopping. She tried not to gag as tourists took pictures of themselves kissing the rock. It might make sense if they were kissing the real one, but this was a Vegas knockoff; the only luck they could hope for was to not get mono.
She checked the time: only one o’clock. The kids were probably home from their half day of school. Which one would answer if she called? Probably Kate, and she’d have a list of complaints about Tommy and food. She picked up her phone and dialed, a smile on her lips, excited to tell them about her poker lesson.
“Hey, I didn’t expect you to call so soon.”
MJ stood up straighter. His voice soothed her jangled nerves from the last few hours, even if it wasn’t his normal playful tone, the tone she fell in love with. Her tough-girl poker act melted away.
“Chris! I didn’t expect you to answer the phone.” It was so good to hear his voice, and she was suddenly eager to share the lesson with him. She knew he could appreciate how awesome meeting Doyle Kane was. With how distant he’d been over the last few weeks, she was surprised he even answered her call.
“I came home early so I could be here when the kids got home.”
“Are they around?”
“Tommy’s outside throwing balls around and Kate went to Bree’s.” His answers were brusque, but at least he was talking to her.
“Do you know if any college acceptance letters have arrived for Kate? I can’t believe we haven’t gotten any yet.”
“You want me to call over there?”
“No, I’ll send her a text.”
MJ couldn’t believe they hadn’t heard anything from all of those college applications Kate had submitted. She was smart, motivated, and an ideal student. Colleges should be fighting over her.
MJ picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, searching for questions to keep the conversation going. It hadn’t always been like this. From their first meeting over pie so many years ago, conversation had always come easily. How could she find a way back to their effortless connection?
“So—” MJ began to tell him about the lesson when he interrupted.
“How was the trip?” Chris asked.
“Good. No glitches. The lesson was awesome and the room is really nice. I can send some pictures.”
“No, that’s okay.”
MJ wanted to reach through the phone and touch Chris’s face, look into his eyes and see whether the disinterest lived there, too.
“Mive you,” she said.
“Uh-huh. I’ll let you go, and I’ll tell the kids you called.”
She heard a click and her phone ended the call. She stared at the blank screen. She should call him back, make it clear that she missed him. That she loved him. Maybe he hadn’t understood what she was trying to say. It was one of her lamer attempts, she’d admit. Another opportunity to fix things had slipped through her fingers. Her phone buzzed with a text alert. Maybe it was him.
But it was from an unknown number.
Hang at the cabana with me? —Doyle
He had attached a picture of himself lounging sans shirt by the pool, wearin
g snug blue swim trunks and a wicked smile. He held a drink toward the camera.
Sorry, my friend and I have plans.
It was just shopping, but she wasn’t about to ditch Lisa.
Bring her.
MJ looked up to see Lisa walking toward her.
“It’s like the Cliffs of More in here.” She chuckled at her own pun while looking around at all the high-end shops. “I think I maxed my credit cards window shopping on the walk in.”
She stopped in front of MJ, taking in her expression, then rubbed a finger on the crease between MJ’s eyes.
“What’s up with that?”
“Chris. But I don’t want to talk about it.”
Lisa nodded. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you. What’s the difference between what you did today versus tomorrow versus back home? Basically, I’m confused.”
MJ had been so immersed in her poker world, she forgot it wasn’t obvious to those outside. “There are two ways to play poker: a cash game or a tournament. A cash game is just that—you bring in as much money as you want to play with. At any point, you can decide to stop playing and leave with however much money you have left. I play that way the most, like at home. You can’t win as much as at a tournament, but you have a better chance of leaving with some money.
“Tournaments are different. Every player pays the same fee to enter and starts with the same amount of chips. You play until you are out of chips or the last player left. You can win a lot more money, but you’re also more likely to leave with none at all. Most tournaments pay out money to the top finishers—that number varies per tournament, so you can still earn something even if you don’t take it down.
“I won a tournament in Milwaukee and the prize was a trip here for my poker lesson with Doyle and my entry fee into another tournament tomorrow night. Tonight I’ll play a cash game just for fun and practice. Tomorrow’s tournament is the real prize of the trip. The winner gets their entry fee for the Global Poker Finals paid for. That’s like the Packers being told at the end of the season that they have a free pass into the Super Bowl. Make sense?”
“Cash game, tournaments. You really like this?”
“It has some positives. For example, how do you feel about hanging out at the pool for a few hours in the company of a handsome, charming man after we’re done shopping?” She held up the phone so Lisa could see Doyle’s text.
Lisa raised an eyebrow.
“You know I won’t say no to that.”
MJ laughed as she typed out a quick text.
We’re in. See you soon.
MJ made sure no one could see her as they arrived at the pool area before yanking her suit bottoms out of her backside. It was a tankini with a halter top, all in basic black. She shimmied her hips to make sure the adjustment would stick and caught up with Lisa, who had walked through the entrance already.
As they approached the private cabanas, MJ saw that Doyle had been watching for them. He waved them on.
“He’s a tasty treat, isn’t he?” Lisa said.
MJ couldn’t agree more. He wore the blue shorts she’d seen in the picture. They were a cross between boxer briefs and running shorts. Smaller and more fitted than the typical swim trunks she saw at the lake, but not too tight. They accentuated his toned legs, and his chest was just hairy enough to shade the stomach muscles underneath. He wore dark sunglasses to hide his eyes and his scruffy jaw blended into his thick, dark hair. He greeted them as they entered the small enclave made private by potted palms and ferns. A white tent made up the back border, where she could see a bar and lounge chairs in the deep shade. In the sun, there were a table and a few more lounge chairs. Behind them was the pool. Doyle took off his glasses to reveal blue eyes that matched the sparkling water. MJ’s knees wobbled a little.
“Well met, Wisconsin.” He took her hand and turned it so her wrist was facing up, his lips parted slightly as they touched the pale, sensitive skin. He maintained eye contact to gauge her reaction. The unexpected intimacy caused MJ to inhale, trapped in his gaze. “Even lovelier than before.”
She pulled it together and asked, “Wisconsin?”
He gave her a half smile. “I did some research.”
He surveyed her from head to toe, appreciating MJ’s black halter top. She liked it because it drew attention to her chest rather than her curvy hips and butt, and—based on Doyle’s line of sight—it was working. MJ refrained from snorting at his over-the-top greeting. He released her hand, his smile revealing a chipped tooth and a wicked glint in his eye.
“Doyle, this is my best friend, Lisa.” MJ nodded in her direction.
“I was wondering who this lovely lady was.” He took Lisa’s hand and raised it to his full lips to kiss it. Lisa squeaked, “I’m married.”
MJ laughed. “Don’t worry—he prefers blonde, leggy models. Speaking of, where is your arm candy?”
“I’m looking to upgrade.”
Lisa looked back and forth between Doyle and MJ. “Well, kids, I’ll be over here taking advantage of these comfy-looking chairs if you need me.” She set her bag on the ground, lay down on the nearest chair, and positioned her floppy hat to shade her face. “Lisa out.”
MJ set her bag on the next-nearest chaise and looked over the pool. Even though it was huge, only a few people cooled themselves in it. Midday in the desert stifled, so MJ planned to spend as much of it as possible in the water. A young woman in a nearly sheer white string bikini waved to Doyle as she walked by. He ignored her, keeping his gaze on MJ.
“Do you need anything before I get in the pool?” MJ said to Lisa.
Lisa waved her off with a hand. “No, hon. I just want to soak up all the sun.”
“You can’t go into the pool. No one goes in the pool,” Doyle said.
“Then why are we outside in this heat?”
“To get some color on our skin like Lisa, be seen, and enjoy the company of beautiful lasses, like you.” He took a step closer to MJ. She backed up until her legs hit her chair, causing her to tumble onto it. Damn, he got under her skin. And where did he get off calling her a lass? Especially on the same day she’d gotten ma’amed by the poker host.
“This is going to be fun.” Doyle reached out his hand to help her back up.
Lisa laughed from under her giant hat, and MJ looked at her, steel returning to her spine. Where did this laddie get off playing with her?
“You aren’t helping, Lees.” MJ turned back to Doyle. “If I can’t go in the pool, then how do we stay cool under such heated circumstances?”
“We drink, of course.” Doyle put his hand on MJ’s arm and guided her back into the cabana. “I’ll make you my specialty.” He stepped behind the small wooden bar, setting his sunglasses on the counter and using his blue eyes to follow the wandering bead of sweat as it disappeared beneath the dark fabric of her swimsuit. Based on her rapid heartbeat, he may as well have traced the path with his finger. Pull it together, Margaret June. You’re a married woman.
The cabana cut them off from everyone else around the pool. They could only see Lisa, lying on the chaise, like a lazy guard dog keeping intruders away. MJ was alone with a man she had just met. A sexy man with toned muscles and seductive eyes. A voice whispered in the back of her mind that maybe a married woman shouldn’t be alone with a man like Doyle, but she brushed it aside. He wasn’t a threat. Not really. And they were in a cabana—a very steamy cabana, yes—but not a bedroom.
“So, why did you really ditch Legs One and Legs Two?” MJ asked. She hopped up onto one of the wooden stools.
Doyle rummaged behind the bar, pouring juices, muddling berries, and slicing citrus.
“I told ya, I mean to upgrade.”
MJ took off her sunglasses and deployed her best I-know-you’re-full-of-shit look.
“Come on—two middle-aged married women isn’t an upgrade from tall, lean, and willing.”
He pulled a bottle of champagne from the ice, the cubes shifting into the now empty cooler. He m
oved with the same confidence as when he played poker. He reached for bottles and utensils without a second guess, like he’d done it a million times before. He probably had.
“I’m not often challenged. It’s a lovely change of pace, right.”
As he worked, he looked up at her and smiled. Each time she jumped inside, annoyed at herself for being thrilled that this handsome man noticed her. Perhaps she could steal a few cubes to cool down. With a pop, Doyle opened the bottle and poured it into the glasses behind the bar. He set the two drinks on the countertop. The cocktails were fizzy and pink toward the top, then became a dark red at the bottom of the glass.
“What’s in this thing?” murmured MJ.
“I call it a First Kiss,” Doyle said.
“Why?”
Doyle’s mouth twitched into a saucy grin.
“Because it’s sweet and simple with the first sip. But each sip after becomes more intense and irresistible.”
MJ gulped for air. She reached for the glass, trying to hide her trembling hand. What would Chris say if he could see me now? Would he care? MJ shook the thoughts from her head. She was here because she needed to think only about herself, reboot herself. And right now she wanted Doyle to think she was a cool customer, used to witty banter and flirty drinks.
“I do enjoy a beautifully constructed cocktail.” Her voice sounded rough with nerves. She sipped the drink, hoping the shade in the cabana hid the red flaring of her skin. The tingling drink tasted like cherries, a million little bombs bursting on her tongue. Delicious. She took another sip, still full of cherries, but with something darker, more exotic, more enticing. She wanted more.
Doyle watched her reaction, sipping his own drink. It was too tasty to waste even a single drop. She licked her lips, her champagne-cooled tongue sizzling from their heat. Doyle reached across the bar toward her, his fingers inches from her own hand. She had just begun to anticipate the feel of his skin on hers when Lisa walked in.
“I hope you made an extra one, handsome,” Lisa said. “This heat is melting me.”
Luck, Love & Lemon Pie Page 13