Page 5 of Texas Hold Em’ (The Devil’s Luck MC #3)

JAMESON

S amantha stepped aside and let us lumber inside her and Jackson’s house. She waved a hand in front of her face and scrunched up her nose as I brushed past her. “Holy shit, you boys stink.”

Jackson came in behind me and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Yeah well, we’re working on your bar, so no complaining.”

She clasped her hands together and gave him an innocent smile. “I wasn’t complaining. Just stating a fact. Let’s take this out back, shall we?” Under her breath she muttered, “I don’t think I have enough candles to mask this.”

Suzie and Mason brought up the rear after the other men. The two women bustled off into the kitchen while the rest of us followed Sam’s orders and moved through the dining room, out the sliding glass doors, and onto the nicely appointed back deck.

Before Sam came around, Jackson’s deck had been pretty bare bones.

The only furniture it used to have were camping chairs in obnoxious shades of green, red, and orange.

A minimum of two coolers always rested against the side of the house filled with beer, and in the cupholder of one of the chairs was an airtight container with pre-rolled joints.

Sam had really made this place her own. Or rather, their own .

Gone were the collapsible camping chairs and sun-bleached coolers.

In their place were comfortable outdoor sofas made of wicker with plush cushions all over them.

A glass coffee table in the middle of the sectional held a citronella candle as well as some coasters, and a shelf underneath contained small boxes of weed paraphernalia.

A couple of side tables were decorated with flowers planted in turquoise pots, and over our heads were strings of patio lights that winked on as we all fell into our usual spots.

Jackson wasted little time pulling two joints out of a jar under the table and passing them around the circle.

A couple puffs and a pass, and I found myself sinking lower into the cushions that were comfy as hell.

The others seemed to be getting just as comfortable as me.

We’d had a long day under the blistering sun.

Even though summer had reached its end and Reno wasn’t as intolerably hot as it had been in August, a day like today still left its mark.

My skin was hot, my back and shoulders were burnt, my lips were dry.

But it was nothing a relaxing night like this couldn’t fix.

We’d finished passing the joint around when Sam came outside and draped herself across Jackson’s lap and rested her head against his shoulder. “How much longer do you guys have to keep this up?”

Jackson put a hand on her thigh and squeezed. “A couple more weeks at the most. We’re wrapping all the shit up. Contractors will be coming in soon.”

“Thank God,” Abel muttered.

Sam smiled sweetly at him. “I appreciate all of you busting your asses to make this happen. Seriously. I’ve been going out of my mind puttering around this house every day all day. I need my bar back. Reno needs my bar back. Maybe the Well will bring everyone back together again.”

I raked my fingers through my hair and massaged my gritty scalp. I needed a fucking shower. “Let’s hope people are willing to show their faces at the Well. Bates and the cops have successfully turned half the city against us.”

Sam bit her bottom lip. “My regulars won’t leave me stranded. ”

Jackson’s hand moved higher up her thigh. “Even if it’s a slow start, you’ll be right back in business like you were before the fire.”

She smiled.

I wasn’t convinced that Jackson was right, but I held my tongue. More negativity wouldn’t solve shit.

Suzie came out of the kitchen with a platter of food she and Sam had put together in our absence.

There were wings, ribs, dinner rolls, baked potatoes, sauteed vegetables, and chicken skewers.

The men filled up paper plates and dug in while Suzie and Sam passed out napkins that wouldn’t be used.

The women helped themselves to some grub before taking their seats with their men.

Mason wrapped an arm around Suzie’s waist and gave her backside a squeeze. She giggled. Their relationship looked good on them.

William’s death had hit Mason pretty hard. He’d been there when it happened. Saw it all go down. Used his own hands to try to stop the bleeding from the bullet hole ripped in young Will’s chest.

Ever since that night, Mason had been pulling away from the group and turning inward, but as soon as he and Suzie finally stopped pretending there was nothing between them, his old self started shining through the cracks again.

We all knew the pair would end up together one day or another.

Well, all of us except for Jackson, who somehow had his head in the sand about the whole thing and never noticed their flirty banter or sidelong looks at each other.

Then again, he’d been overseas for a few years.

He’d missed a lot of things happening back home.

I shifted in my corner of the sofa.

I envied what Mason and Suzie had. I envied Sam and Jackson’s relationship, too. It didn’t make sense, of course, this tight feeling of jealousy in my chest. I’d never wanted a woman I couldn’t kick out the morning after a good night in the sheets. The solitary life suited me just fine.

At least, it had up until now.

Now something felt like it was missing. Like there was something more I could claim for myself if I wanted it .

Sam sat up a little straighter and licked hot sauce from her fingers. “Did you guys hear that?”

Everyone fell silent.

Jackson arched an eyebrow. “Hear what?”

“I think someone’s at the front door,” she said.

“You’re hearing things,” Jackson said.

Right on cue, the knock came again, and everyone tensed.

Mason looked around at the group. “We’re all here. Who the fuck could that be?”

“Cops?” Gabriel murmured.

“One of Bates’s boys?” Knox wondered aloud.

Jackson rose to his feet and Sam grabbed at his arm. “Be careful,” she whispered.

I stood, too. Jackson and I moved off the deck and into the house, where we approached the front door with caution. Whoever was on the other side knocked again, and through the crystal cut-out in the door, we saw them plant their hands on their hips and shift their weight.

It definitely wasn’t Bates. This person was small. Tiny, even.

Jackson looked through the peephole and growled. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He wrenched the door open.

There, standing on the welcome mat with a cheesy smile, was Carrie.

“Gentlemen,” she said cheerfully. “I thought I might find you here. Smells good. Did someone cook up a feast?”

Jackson shared an exasperated look with me while he held the door ajar. “What are you doing here, Hart?”

She shrugged and looked down the street as if she’d just happened upon the house. “I was twiddling my thumbs at Tex’s house and feeling lonesome. And forgotten about. So I thought I’d come track you boys down. Got room for one more in there?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Jackson scowled at her. “You’re supposed to be lying low.”

“Then you better let me in before someone sees me.” She laughed and gestured down at herself.

“Besides, who’s going to recognize me? Come on, Black Jack.

I didn’t think the Devils would be so tightly wound.

Besides, where do you think is a safer place for me to be?

Here with all of you, or alone in Tex’s apartment? ”

My eyes roamed over her. She definitely didn’t look like a Ranger. She’d left her long blonde hair down and wore a pair of tightfitting black jeans and a denim jacket over a white crop top. No hat, no uniform, no badge, no boots, no gun.

Carrie sniffed at the air. “Are those ribs I’m smelling?”

Jackson sighed and opened the door the rest of the way. “Come in, then. But don’t get it in your head that this is going to be a regular thing.”

She grinned as she stepped past him. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”

Jackson led her out to the back porch and I followed close behind, unable or unwilling to take my eyes off her ass in those jeans as her hips moved from side to side with every step.

We joined the others out on the back deck, and I stood behind Carrie as every pair of male eyes slid in her direction.

She wiggled her fingers in a flirty wave. “Boys. Long time no see.”

Sam got quickly to her feet and offered Carrie a beer. In less than a minute, she had a drink in one hand and a plate of ribs in the other, and Gabriel and Abel were making room for her to sit between them.

“Thank you,” Carrie said before biting into one of her ribs with perfect white teeth. Barbecue sauce stained her bottom lip, but it somehow didn’t look sloppy, and it didn’t seem to embarrass her. It didn’t make her any less sexy, either.

She devoured the ribs, licked her fingers clean, and washed it all down with a sip of beer. Abel drooled into his lap beside her, and something like jealousy growled in my chest.

“Is this what you guys usually do on a Sunday night?” she asked. “I must say, it’s a lot more tame than what I expected.”

Jackson leaned back in his chair. “And what did you expect?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she mused, “using empty beer cans as target practice, doing lines of cocaine, tattooing each other with stick and pokes. ”

I snorted.

Abel got comfortable beside her and draped an arm over the back of the sectional. “I could show you a stick and poke if you want.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, Carrie.”

Carrie giggled. “I’m a Ranger, not a prude. It’s all good.”

Knox nudged me with his shoulder. “Who knew she was hiding all that under her uniform?”

I grunted. Who knew?

Me. I knew.

I’d woken up to her walking around my apartment in oversized T-shirts and no pants for several mornings. I’d seen her sun-kissed body wrapped in a towel after she showered. Her toned stomach peeking out from under her crop top was no surprise to me.

Gabriel said something that made Carrie laugh.

She threw her head back and nudged him playfully in the ribs with her elbow.

He grinned, flashed a devious look around at the rest of us, and began flirting shamelessly with her.

She responded openly by shrugging out of her denim jacket and showing off toned arms and a low-cut shirt.

Gabriel stared right at her cleavage.

After having Carrie all to myself for a week and coveting her body when she wasn’t looking, I didn’t like that everyone else now had eyes on her. And this little act of hers? The giggles, the hair flipping, the batting of her lashes?

It wasn’t the Carrie Hart I knew.

So when she finished her food, I caught her eye and invited her to come inside with me with a nod of my chin. She got up and followed, and as soon as I had her alone in the kitchen, I turned on her.

“What are you playing at?”

She folded her arms under her breasts as if daring me to look at them. “I’m not playing at anything. I’m socializing.”

I pointed a warning finger at her. “The others might not bat an eye at this shit, but I am. What’s your motive?”

“Motive?” Carrie laughed and put a hand on my forearm. The touch was feather-light and familiar. “You worry too much, Tex. Honestly, I’m just here to have a good time. Don’t you like to have a good time?”

I glared down at her.

Suddenly, her free hand grazed the front of my jeans. I stiffened as she made another pass, this time pausing to grab a handful.

“Wow,” she murmured before releasing me and stepping back, her cheeks burning pink. “I didn’t expect that.”

Neither had I.

She ran her fingers through her silky blonde hair. “Did you want to scold me about anything else, or can I go back outside?”

“Go,” I grumbled.

She left without another word, and I leaned up against the kitchen counters, exiled until my cock no longer made a tent in my jeans.