28. Lennox
lennox
. . .
Was it a bit reckless to push Bishop and force him to socialize? Maybe. Was I going to pay for it later tonight? Without a doubt. Would I regret it?
Absolutely the fuck not.
If there was one thing I knew about the grumpy asshole walking my way, it was that he never backed down from a challenge. In fact, he was worse than I was. I was competitive, sure, but Bishop hated to lose. I didn’t know what drove him to try and top everyone around him, but I liked it.
For a half-cooked plan, everything was working out in my favor.
When I ambled up to the barn this evening, I’d been a woman on a mission.
My man had gone missing, and I was determined to find him.
Bishop hadn’t texted me since this afternoon, and it was just a quick one-liner to let me know he was headed in. That’d been hours earlier.
I’d been around cowboys long enough to know that shit happened, and sometimes they got hung up. It was just a way of life. I didn’t know how often Dad was late for dinner because he’d gotten to the barn and saw something that needed fixing before he called it a day .
But as the sun began to dip and the air cooled, I started to get a little antsy. Not even Callie’s soft, sweet nudges could calm me down. I know she meant well, but all I could think of was the famous TV moment when Little Timmy fell into the well, and Lassie went to get help.
Just because someone was tough as nails didn’t mean they couldn’t get hurt on the job. I’d seen it plenty of times before. Most accidents could’ve been avoided by keeping a clear head, but some things were out of our control.
By the time I reached the barn, I’d come up with a million different horrible situations about what was keeping him out.
They ranged from Bishop getting trampled by an angry stampede to him stumbling on an undiscovered, highly poisonous snake and being bitten.
Each scenario grew wilder the longer he was gone.
It wasn’t until I’d found Keith at the barn that I calmed down.
I tried to sound annoyed when I asked where the grumpy bastard was, but I thought Keith saw right through me.
He just laughed and told me Bishop was stuck with a calving mother and new hire in the pasture, which was much better than the shit going on in my head.
I was on my way back to the big house when Keith asked me if I wanted to stay. Knowing it would get under Bishop’s skin, I said yes. He’d have to come here first anyway because of Titan, so I might as well have a little fun while I waited around for him.
Truth be told, I didn’t know shit about Texas Hold’em.
Dad played from time to time, so I knew a royal flush beat everything else.
Did I know what it was, though? Nope. Sure didn’t.
The only thing I had working for me was the fact that most of the men on this ranch were too damn polite to call me on my bluff. I didn’t ask why, nor did I care.
If their southern charm was why it happened, who was I to tell them they’d been duped ?
Callie stayed by my side, thoroughly enjoying herself. I swore she was in doggy heaven. All the guys doted on her. I didn’t even want to think about how many treats she conned them into. If Bishop wanted to point fingers at someone, he could point them at her.
After a few hours and a couple of beers, I’d nearly gone up against everyone. There was no real structure here, and some played me twice just for the hell of it. I was pretty sure they thought I’d been blessed with some kind of beginner’s luck, which was totally right.
Dad had tried to teach me the ins and outs of poker multiple times, but I lost interest too fast to retain anything.
Now that I realized how much fun it could be, I kicked myself for not taking him up on it sooner.
I could’ve been out here swindling cowboys and paying off rodeo fees without so much as a blink of an eye.
But with Bishop here, everything seemed to change. The air was thicker, the pressure was higher, and my bravado was slipping. Pesky butterflies flitted in my stomach as he walked out of his office in a fresh t-shirt.
Why I waited so long to act on the feelings between us was a mystery to me, especially when he looked at me with that cocky expression of his.
Yes, he could be an ass, but that was something I’d grown to appreciate.
It made those rare moments of vulnerability much sweeter.
Maybe that was a dealbreaker to some, but it kind of sealed it for me.
My gaze dropped, slowly scanning down the length of his body. I didn’t care who saw it. Whether we wanted to admit it or not, the sexual tension between us had been there for years. It wasn’t anything our crew hadn’t seen before.
“Is that your wallet, or are you just happy to see me?” I asked, focusing on the bulge at the front of his pants.
If he cared, he didn’t show it. “Don’t have my wallet, but I am happy to see you.”
“Why’s that? ”
Bishop reached forward, his corded forearm flexing as he gripped the foldable metal chair and pulled it back. My mouth had gone dry before his ass hit the seat. As if he knew it, the bastard smirked, letting one arm rest on the table and the other on his thick thigh.
“Because I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of knocking you down a peg.” He leaned forward slightly, keeping his voice low over the hum of conversation around us. “You know, if you wanted to play cards, we could’ve played strip poker at home.”
Oh, I was so fucked.
On the outside, I was trying to seem cool, calm, and collected, but inside, I was screaming.
Our game would be nothing like the others because, unlike the others, my cowboy knew me better than anyone else.
He was too observant, too careful. He’d likely spent way too much time studying me for any sign of weakness during our years of bickering.
If that was all it was, I might’ve even stood a chance, but he knew me in other ways now, too. Ways he could, and likely would, exploit to see me squirm.
I cleared my throat. “Well, I know it’s past your bedtime, so we can make this quick?—”
“Oh no,” he said slowly. My gaze dropped to where he drew lazy circles around the lip of his beer bottle. “You’ve talked too much shit for me to let you off easy.”
“Is that right?” I lifted a brow in challenge. “I haven’t lost yet.”
“I guess it’s an honor to be your first.” His lips curled slightly, but not enough for anyone to catch on to the possible innuendo. “Because you will lose, killer.”
Something about the nickname rolling off his tongue drove me crazy. My thighs clenched together on instinct, which didn’t bode well for me, seeing as we hadn’t even begun yet. “You sure are cocky for a man who didn’t even wanna play ten minutes ago. ”
“Call me inspired. Maybe I wanna be the one to put you in your place since you’ve been swindling my boys here.” He nodded to the stacked deck between us. “Winner deals out.”
I crossed my arms. “I’m not any good at shuffling.”
He lifted his shoulder. “Don’t care. You’re playing with me now and as the reigning champ… I insist.”
I reached forward, grabbing the deck with more force than was necessary. “Fine, but I don’t want to hear you complain if I do a shitty job.”
“I won’t hold it against you. Maybe it’ll work in my favor.”
“Or it’ll make me look like an idiot…” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?” he asked, leaning forward.
I flipped him off because I wanted to, and it seemed like something the old Lennox, the woman who didn’t know how good Bishop’s hand felt on her body, would do.
Cutting the stack in two, I let the cards sift through my hands.
It was awkward, and I fumbled on more than one occasion.
After five attempts, I was finally satisfied.
“What’re we playing for?” I asked, tapping the deck against the table. “You already said you don’t have your wallet, so money’s out.”
Bishop scrunched his nose and shook his head. “Naw, I don’t need to steal your money, killer.”
“What do you need then? A La-Z-Boy recliner and all fourteen seasons of Dallas on DVD?”
There was a quiet “damn” drawn out by one of the guys before the silence broke with hushed laughter. Others hid their smiles behind their drinks. Bishop didn’t say anything, which might have been more concerning than anything else.
I was almost starting to regret my decision to smart off.
Almost.
“Nope, don’t need that either,” he chuckled, sipping his beer.
Condensation dripped down the glass. I watched a single droplet travel down his tan hand, wishing like hell we weren’t in a room full of people who had no idea we were fucking behind closed doors so I could lick it off. “What about you? What’re you betting?”
“I have money to burn.” I gestured toward my winnings for the night.
There was about five hundred dollars there.
I’d already decided that any money I won tonight would go into something for the crew.
I didn’t need it, and I’d kind of crashed their guys’ night, so I wanted to make sure it got back to them somehow.
Bishop hummed before pulling out a twenty from his pocket and throwing it down. “We’ll start there, then.”
“I thought you said you didn’t have money.”
“I said I didn’t have my wallet. There’s a difference.”
“Twenty bucks isn’t gonna get you far, especially since this is only the buy-in.” I tossed an identical bill down beside his. “What’re you gonna do when you can’t add to the pot?”
“Just deal the fucking hand, killer. Let me worry about what I’m gonna do,” he drawled, setting down his beer with a little more force than usual.
I’m sure the crew thought he was mad—and he might’ve been to some degree. After all, he was fighting a losing battle when it came to my smart mouth and his inability to do anything about it.