This isn’t good.
“Forget this fucking hand.” He throws his cards face down into the middle of the table, right on top of the pile of chips, various dollar bills and even a small mountain of quarters that were part of that round’s pot. Everyone playing had already dropped out, one by one, even Dane, until it was just Joel and Shep left. Some had even abandoned their chairs, moving on to grab more beer or play at another table. Or to leave the party with their tails tucked between their legs and their wallets empty.
Not Joel. He’s holding out to the very bitter end. And now I’m getting him into some major trouble.
“Come here.” Shep turns to look at me, his hard stare pinning me in place. I can practically feel his anger coming at me in big, hot waves. All my snarky comments, all my earlier bravado evaporates. “Sit by me,” he commands, pointing at the empty chair beside him.
I stand on shaky legs and approach the table, ignoring Joel, ignoring the snickers from other people watching the spectacle unfold. Without even looking at Shep I fall heavily into the chair beside him, keeping my spine stiff, desperate to put as much distance between us as possible.
But it’s no use. I can smell him. And he smells…fucking incredible. There are no other words for it. A combination of pine and lemon and dirt…okay I know that doesn’t sound very appealing but oh my God, I’m tempted to lean in close and sniff his neck.
I don’t, of course. Instead I grip the edge of the table and allow myself to look in Joel’s direction. The expression on his boyish face is nothing short of misery. I’m starting to wonder if he had a good hand after all. Possibly better than Shep’s? Did I ruin everything? Oh God, if I did, would Joel ever forgive me?
“Don’t look at him,” Shep murmurs, his voice so close to my ear I gasp and turn my head to find his face directly in mine. I can see everything. Every pore in his skin, every little hair in his thick brows, every inky lash that rims his too dark, all seeing eyes. “I want your eyes on me and me only.”
Swallowing hard, I try my best to ignore the anger slowly building inside of me at his threat. But it’s no use. “Are you kidding me?” Who does this guy think he is? So he’s worth a fortune. So he’s ridiculously good looking. So what?
He offers a lopsided smile as he gathers all the cards and starts shuffling like he’s some sort of pro straight out of Vegas. “Nope. I catch you looking in his direction during this next hand and I’ll kick his ass.”
My jaw hangs open as I absorb his words. “You really are an asshole, aren’t you?” I whisper.
The lopsided smile grows. “You’re looking at a top of the line asshole, baby,” he says.
I roll my eyes at the baby mention. I hate it when guys call me baby. Though…huh. No guy has ever called me that before. Not even Joel. Considering Joel is only my second semi-serious boyfriend and we’ve been going out for about six months, I guess that’s not saying much but still.
The baby bit should offend me. But it doesn’t. Neither does that smile.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“We’ll play another round of five card draw, just you and me.” Shep jabs his index finger in Joel’s direction. “The pot stays as is. But we’ll still raise. Consider this game,” he pauses and I hear the smug amusement enter his voice, “high stakes.”
Someone groans. I think it might’ve been Joel. Not that I’m allowed to look at him or anything.
“Your girlfriend here.” He touches me. Freaking Shep Prescott risks losing a limb by actually sliding his arm around my shoulders, his hand gripping my upper arm firmly. I can hardly move, what with the way he’s holding me. “You two make eye contact for even a second and you automatically lose.”
“Not a problem,” Joel says, his voice shaking the slightest bit. I wish I could look at him. If I could I’d be telling him to grow some balls and man up.
“So we’re ready?” Shep releases his hold on me, his fingers streaking across my back as he moves away and settles back in his seat. I send him my most evil glare but it doesn’t even faze him. He simply resumes shuffling his cards, slouching in his chair as he does so, his legs going wide so his knee bumps against my thigh.
Ignoring the sizzle that shoots up my leg, I scoot away from him as best I can but he stops me in my tracks.
“You leave, he loses,” Shep murmurs, so low I’m sure no one can hear him but me. “Don’t forget that.”
“Considering you won’t let me, I don’t think you need to worry,” I say with a little snort that I immediately regret. Way to impress him.
But you don’t want to impress him. You think he’s an asshole.
Yeah. I need to remember that.
Acknowledgments
Big ol’ thanks to Drew + Fable for having kids so I can write about them later. So crazy, right? When I set out to write ONE WEEK GIRLFRIEND, I had zero plans on writing about their children.
Well, look at me now.
I hope you enjoyed this book. Ash and Autumn’s story was easy to write, and I can’t wait to explore this world even more. This is my way of telling you there will be more books.
I want to thank all the readers, reviewers and bloggers who gave shout outs about this book – thanks for shouting about all of my books, actually. I can’t do this job without you, I swear! I want to thank my Facebook reader group—I love hanging out in there every day. From cat memes to book recs, it’s where we share all the good stuff.
Thank you to Nina for the encouragement and for all the hard work you do. To Brittany for wanting to read this book because she still suffers from a #TuttleHangover and maybe Ash will cure it.
Finally, I want to acknowledge the girls on my cheer team. I never in a BAZILLION YEARS would’ve thought I’d be a coach for my daughter’s high school cheer team, but I am. With zero cheer or coaching experience, my friend and I took on this job and while we went through some real crazy, difficult times, it’s also been a lot of fun. And while sometimes all those girls make me (us) nuts, and all the practice and games and camps take up a lot of my time, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything else. You guys are AWESOME! Oh and to Brandy—she’s Autumn’s coach and she’s my friend and fellow coach in real life. She’s also my homegirl. My BBG. Go Badgers!
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About the Author