Page 42 of Texas Hold Em’ (The Devil’s Luck MC #3)

I drained my beer, waited until conversation amongst the guys was ripe and engaging, and poured myself another.

Brody didn’t notice, and neither did Jackson, and within the next two hours I’d managed to put just as many back as my fellow club members.

The pleasant buzz of liquor in my head made it easy to ignore the curious glances from strangers at other tables. Let them be curious.

“Where’s Carrie tonight?” Suzie’s cheeks were rosy and her eyes glassy. She’d had a few drinks of her own, it seemed, and it was starting to show. “I thought she was going to join us.”

Tex shook his head. “She’s at the station reviewing files with the lawyer.”

“Still has her head buried in the books, trying to weed out the bad cops?” Mason asked.

Tex nodded, and he looked proud. “Yep. Stubborn woman. But if anyone can do it, she can.”

“Cheers to that.” Suzie lifted her half-empty beer glass.

Her grip was tight but her balance off, and it swayed in her hand, some of it sloshing onto the table when her brother slammed his glass against hers.

She laughed loudly and sipped foam from the back of her hand while more onlookers turned and watched her.

A group of five men at a nearby table watched Suzie and bowed their heads together, talking amongst themselves while shooting glances in her direction. I had half a mind to say something, but my head was buzzing and Brody’s warning was still ringing in my ears.

So I turned away and finished my beer.

Suzie hiccupped and looked around at us. “When was the last time we all went out for a night like this? I can’t remember, for the life of me.”

“That’s because we’re always slumming it at Grant’s,” Gabriel said.

“Slumming it?” Grant asked sharply.

We all laughed. Grant’s place was nicer than all of ours combined.

His inheritance from his wealthy parents had set him up with an overflowing trust fund that he’d used to buy real estate and grow his wealth.

The place he owned here in Reno was one of many across the country, but all the others were rented out by long term tenants.

His house was a sprawling work of art, and we all reaped the benefits of having such a nice place to crash and work in the shop.

Suzie snickered. “Speaking from experience, Grant’s place is glorious. Especially the guest bed. And the shower.”

Mason grimaced.

Jackson frowned.

She bit her bottom lip and looked up at Mason, and the pair of them shared something that went unsaid. Jackson finished the rest of his beer, likely to avoid thinking about his sister getting intimate with the vice president under Grant’s roof.

Just then, one of the five men from the nearby table stood up and approached us. He went right up to Suzie and tipped his head toward his table.

“Hey, do you want to join us?” He nodded at his buddies, who all waved and smiled at her, before he looked cautiously around at us like we were rabid dogs tied up with unreliable chains.

Suzie blinked up at him. “Huh?”

“Our table,” he said. He was a big guy with broad shoulders, a five o’clock shadow, and long legs. He wore cowboy boots and a denim jacket full of rips and holes. “My buddies and I might be more your speed.”

“My speed?” She arched an eyebrow. “Oh sweetheart, thanks but no thanks. These are my friends. And if you’re worried about me? Don’t be. They’re more afraid of me than I am of them.”

The club sat in silence staring up at the asshole who’d made assumptions about us, just like everyone else in this bar tonight.

He didn’t so much as glance at us. “Are you sure?”

I was on my feet before I noticed I’d moved. “She gave you your answer. Cut it out with the hero bullshit. She’s just fine sitting here with us.”

Chair legs squeaked across the hardwood floors, and I didn’t bother looking to his friends, who I knew had gotten to their feet.

Jackson hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fucking balls.”

Brody stood and chuckled good-heartedly.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen. There’s no need to get your panties in a bunch.

Suzie here is Jackson’s sister. She’s hell on wheels and is true to her word.

You might think you want her company, but trust me, she’d chew you up and spit you out faster than you could blink. ”

Suzie leaned forward in her chair. “Yeah. What he said.”

Mason groaned. “Here we go.”

The men gathered near our table. “Maybe she doesn’t know what’s good for her,” one of them said.

“We’re just concerned for you, miss,” another added.

“These dogs don’t belong here.”

“You should keep better company than the likes of them.”

I stepped between the table and the men, planted a hand in the middle of one of their chests, and shoved him hard. He stumbled, caught his hip on the corner of his table, and stopped himself from falling with sheer luck. When he regained his footing, he pointed an accusatory finger at me.

“You’re all the same. Fucking Devils. Fucking scum!”

I tried to stop it from happening, but my lips peeled away from my teeth in a wolfish grin. “And yet you’re the bastards causing problems tonight.”

A hand closed on the back of my neck. Jackson’s voice was cold and steady, and full of fury. “Enough.”

The man I’d shoved rolled his neck. “Yeah, bitch. Listen to your master.”

Jackson growled. “Steady, Snake. Don’t rise to the bait. They’re just—”

I snapped. The bar erupted with shouts as I charged and took the first man down with a wrap-around tackle.

We landed hard, and within seconds I was being wrenched to my feet, spun around, and clocked across the jaw.

Blood filled my mouth with the taste of copper and I swallowed it.

I didn’t want anyone to have to scrub blood stains out of the nice new hardwood floors.

The fight lasted seconds.

Jackson managed to pry me off one of the guys, and Mason got between me and another one, and everyone broke apart, breathless and charged.

Jackson shoved me toward the doors. “Either take yourself out, or I will.”