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“Every hand. Relentlessly,” I joke in a whisper.

He chuckles and looks at me. Then he grabs my hand, puts my thumb in his mouth and bites down on it, letting me know that he suspected I might be faking the nail biting. My ploy won’t work next time.

“Hey,” I say, leaning close. “Want a kiss?”

He lets my thumb go. “From you? Always.”

I kiss him soundly.

His hand slides under my tank top, and he fingers the bottom of the thin camisole. “Are these clothes even yours?”

“No.” I put my arms around him, leaning against him and hugging him. “I love you,” I whisper in his ear and then kiss the side of his face.

When I get up, the chips are gone and there’s a stack of hundred dollar bills. Two thousand dollars from C and Anvil. Trick opens his wallet and tosses a stack of bills at the pile.

“How are you gonna spend it?” C asks.

“Well, most of it will go to paying off some debt I accumulated to help a family member. But a part of it is to buy a dress I want to wear on Trick’s birthday.” I steal a glance at him. “May seventh, yes?”

“Yeah. Show me the dress.”

“No, it’s a surprise.”

He smiles. “What color?”

I laugh. “You’ll see.”

“You met in Catholic school,” C says. “You should spend some of your winnings on a plaid skirt, white shirt, and knee socks.”

“God, no,” Trick says. “No schoolgirl costumes.” He looks at me speculatively. “If I had to guess, I’d say the dress is white. Because a wife would be a great birthday present.”

“May twenty-second is my day for wearing a white dress.”

He watches me with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“St. Mary’s had an opening,” I continue. “Zoe checked the house calendar, and no one is scheduled to be out of town. Unless September sounds better? That’s the next opening at St. Mary’s.”

“May. By the way, if this is how you make me feel better after losing, you can cheat during the rematch ‘cuz I’ll be throwing it anyway.”

Smiling, I give him one more quick kiss before rising.

“Here,” Anvil says, coming over with his phone and showing me a spot on the map. “The best game in the state. I’ll cover the buy-in.”

Trick’s smile is replaced by a frown. “Fuck you, ‘Vil. No way.”

“She needs a manager, and you can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s sleazy. Husband managers are like pimps.”

“You invested in Rachel’s production company.”

“No. That’s Raven’s money. I gave it to her as a wedding present.”

“And she’s terrified she’s going to mismanage it. She’d probably welcome some husband-manager action. I know I would. She sent me twelve emails yesterday about accounting software.”

Anvil turns and looks at him. “Did you answer them?”