Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
TEN MONTHS BEFORE THE ACCIDENT
Fran’s warm cheese dip has gone cold. Callum’s poker table with our friends seated all around it has gone quiet. Until—
“Rosalie!” Fran, standing directly behind a focused Rose, shakes her shoulders. “You have to win this for women everywhere.”
My best friend’s wife is spirited–no doubt.
Rosalie tips her head up to see her friend and gives her a wry smile. “Okay, but I won’t be able to lay my cards down if you’ve turned me into a milkshake.”
Maggie and Stella hum out a laugh, but they’re watching intently too.
It’s down to me and Rose. Everyone else is out.
My girl and I are the only ones with chips left.
We’ve been playing Texas Hold’em for the last four hours.
That’s what happens when Coach gives us a long weekend.
It’s now two o’clock in the morning, we’re sleep deprived and delirious.
“Do it for the team.” Lucca slaps me on the back.
“It’s not as if he can change his cards now,” Maggie tells him.
Rose pushes the rest of her chips into the center of the table. “All in.”
Fran squeals. “Just tell me you have something good,” she says, shaking Rosalie once more.
Rosalie leans forward and away from her friend. “Frances—”
“Gah!” Fran gasps, a hand covering her mouth.
Whoa. We all know better than to refer to Fran by her given name.
“I’m sorry.” Rose looks at her again. “It had to be done. You’re losing it. Just sit down and let me play.”
“Are you afraid, Conrad?” I say—because I’m delirious too.
“He did not say that.” Maggie peers at Stella as if confirming my insanity.
“If I weren’t about to become a mother, Zev...” Stella runs a hand over her protruding belly. “If I didn’t need to stay out of prison, you would have a revolt on your hands.”
Wow. All for asking the girl if she’s scared. I was kidding, ladies.
Roman snickers at his wife’s threats, wrapping one arm around the back of her chair.
“I’m not afraid. He knows it,” Rosalie gripes. Then looking back at me, she lifts her brows. “I’m the one who’s all in.”
“Maybe he’s afraid,” Maggie sneers.
“Maybe he’s bluffing.” Stella’s hand continues to circle over that belly bump.
Rosalie just smiles. “I’m guessing both. Afraid and bluffing.”
“At Rosalie being all in?” I say, my eyes on her baby blues. “Not even a little.”
“Are we still talking about poker?” Fran asks, looking around the table.
Callum runs his palms over his thighs. I think he might be sweating. “Zev, you better show your cards.”
“Yes,” Lucca says, hands on the table. “And they better be good.”
“Looks like we’re all invested. Men against women?” Rosalie says, eyeing her friends.
“Absolutely.” Maggie winks at Lucca.
“Oh boy,” Callum mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I’m getting a drink.”
“Nope.” I hold out a hand, stopping my friend from standing. “We’re in this together.” Then I look back at Rose. “Care to make it interesting?”
She huffs and nods to the pile of chips in the center of the table. “I’m already betting all I’ve got.”
“There’s always more to bet.”
She scoffs out a humorless laugh. “You’re that confident?”
“Oh yeah.”
Lucca leans my way, attempting to peek at my cards. But I keep them well covered.
“Fine. I’m game,” Rosalie says. The girl never backs down from a fight. It’s one thing I love about her.
Stella pushes herself up from the table. “I have to pee,” she whines, hand on her belly. Unlike me, Rose doesn’t hide her cards from her friends—they must be decent.
“We’ll wait for you,” Fran whispers to Stella—though we all hear her.
“No waiting!” Maggie and Lucca bark in unison.
Fran’s eyes widen. “Then get on with it. The pregnant girl has to pee.”
Stella sways back then forth on her legs, refusing to leave until this is over.
“Fine. What do you want if you win, Zevulun?” Rose sets her cards face-down, and crosses her arms.
I grin. There’s only one thing I want. She doesn’t know? “If I win, we go to Reno tonight and find a chapel.”
Fran gasps and slaps both hands over her mouth. Stella giggles then hops from one foot to the other in a strange little dance.
“Zev,” Rosalie growls.
“Let my wife go to the bathroom,” Roman says, matching Rosalie’s tone.
“Shh,” Stella hisses at him. “I’m not missing this!”
I shrug, eyes on Rosalie. “That’s what I want. Either you’re all in or you’re not.”
Rose stares right back. She grinds her teeth, then picks up her cards, glancing down at them.
She leans into the table. “Fine. You want to play like that? If I win, because I’m going to win, Zev, you get a tattoo.
A rose right over your heart.” She bats her lashes like she’s caught me.
Does she think I’ll back down? Like a dog with its tail between its legs.
And sure, I might be the only player on our team without a tattoo. I’ve never seen the appeal. Rose knows that. Which is how I know she’s attempting to call my bluff.
But I’m not backing out now. A rose over my heart? I’d get that tattoo with or without this bet. “Deal.”
Another gasp from Fran who may pee her pants before Stella does.
Rosalie scowls at me. But I just shrug. “I’m all in. If you are.”
Her jaw shifts right then left.
Will I actually make Rose follow through and marry me? No. I mean, not unless she wants to. The one time I brought up marriage, she acted as if I was joking. I’d never been more serious.
Callum scoots to the edge of his seat. Stella’s dancing becomes a little more sporadic. Fran is chewing her thumb nail to bits.
It’s time.
“On three,” Lucca says.
The table is showing an Ace, two Jacks, a two, and a three.
I’m holding both a two and a three. It’s low, but it’s two pair. I’ve got a chance.
“One,” Lucca counts. “Two… three.”
Rose sets her cards down, but I keep mine close for just a moment longer.
“Four of a kind,” Roman mutters under his breath. “Holy.”
“Zev,” Rosalie barks, though I hear the tremble in her breath. “Your cards.”
“Do you need a dress before we go? Flowers? A ring?”
Her eyes widen, and her breath hitches.
Then I lay my cards down. “Two pair. You got me, Conrad.”
Rosalie deflates, sinking into her chair. I worried her. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
Stella sucks in a gasp. “I just peed a little.”
“Come on, Stell.” Roman stands, making his way around the table and walking her to Fran’s guest bathroom.
“I thought I was going to have to plan a wedding on the fly.” Fran paces behind Rosalie’s seat, hands on hips.
“No,” Rosalie says, her grin ear to ear—now that she’s won. “We wouldn’t have gone through with either bet, Fran. It was a joke.”
“I wasn’t joking,” I say, brows raised. “You were joking?”
She only shakes her head at me. I take my finger and draw an imaginary X over my heart, right where my tattoo will be going.
“Hey, Zev,” Lucca says, phone out. “You’ve got options.” He pushes his phone in front of my face, multiple rose designs on the screen. “Do you want her name beneath it?”
Rosalie pushes her chair out from beneath the table. Chortling, she stands. “No, he does not want my name beneath it. He’s not getting a tattoo.”
“Only, I am.” I stand and walk around until I’m right in front of her. I give her an innocent grin. “A bet is a bet. You should know I’m serious next time we play cards, Conrad.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling too. Then, in front of all our friends—except for Stella who’s still in the bathroom—I plant a kiss on my girl.