“I’m just telling you what I see.”
“Then you really are blind, because the things you are accusing me of wanting—your fame and your money and your reputation? Those are the exact reasons I didn’t want to give you my last name or my phone number. Those are the reasons I didn’t want you doing me any favors. You kept pushing, and you made me think I could have the relationship and the career.”
“I never said this was a long-term relationship. I never made you any promises.”
Sabrina blew out a breath. “You really believe that, don’t you? That because you didn’t say the actual words, you don’t feel them. That I don’t feel them. Just like you think admitting that you loved your mother makes you weak. It doesn't. Loving Helena, despite the things she did when you were a child, makes you strong. It was love for her that led you into all those kitchen-table card games, just as it was love for your brothers that pushed you into professional gambling." Sabrina shook her head. "Say you don't love me—I'll deal with it—but your feelings don't change the fact that I do. I love you, and up until I walked in that door, I thought maybe you were worth fighting for.”
“You deserve better, more. I’m not the man you need in your life.”
She studied him for a long moment, and she finally saw the tell. A quick flicker of guilt crossed his face, followed by the same pain she saw when he’d told her about his parents and when she picked the lily at the ranch. God, had that only been a week ago? Then the flicker was gone, and Jase the Gambler was back in place.
“You may have read the book, but you didn’t understand it,” she said after a moment. “You don’t get to tell me what I need. I do that. I decide what I want, what I’m willing to give up for what I want, and what I’m willing to do to get what I need.”
“Your publisher is right. Go back to your book tour. I’ll have Connor leak our breakup. Go back to the life you worked so hard to create.”
Sabrina shook her head. “You’re the life I wanted, Jase, and you’re so tied up in what your parents did to one another, what they did to you, that you won’t believe your own eyes. You’re like the alcoholic who sits at the bar staring down a shot of whiskey. His hands are trembling and he’s sweating, but he can’t look away from the glass. You’re the alcoholic, Jase, and cards are your drink of choice. You don’t control the cards, you’re letting them control you.”
He stood near the window of the living room, looking down over the Strip. “I’m taking control back.”
Sabrina picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She wouldn’t cry, not now. She wouldn’t give him that power, she couldn’t.
“I hope that control keeps you warm at night,” she said and walked out of the condo.
Chapter Thirteen
Sabrina spent the night alone in her condo in Henderson. Her mother called from Hawaii, but she sent the call to voicemail. Callie texted her about a dinner before the charity event, and she deleted the message. Molly emailed her the plane confirmation and hotel information for the Los Angeles leg of the tour, and Sabrina sighed. She printed out the necessary details and stuck them in her travel bag.
She didn’t care about the book tour. She wanted to curl up in a ball and … She sighed again. She wasn’t going there. Jase could insinuate she was like her mother, but that didn’t mean she had to start acting like Melinda.
Sabrina Smith was smart and capable and, yes, she’d gotten her heart broken by a man she should never have gotten involved with. That didn’t mean she had to cry her eyes out over him or jeopardize her future any more than she already had.
An incoming video call popped up on her laptop. Her publisher. Great. This was a call she couldn’t avoid.
“Ms. Smith.” Mr. Lambert’s handlebar mustache was as stiff as ever on the screen, his hair the same steely gray and his expression still annoyed.
“You don’t have to worry about my reputation any longer,” she said, pushing as much energy into her voice as she could. She wouldn’t allow Jase’s insecurities to push her into depression. She wouldn’t. “Jase Reeves and I are no longer seeing one another.”
Lambert looked surprised for a brief moment, but then the familiar scowl came over his features. “I’m afraid that no longer matters. I said I would be in touch when we had firm numbers. After six weeks on store shelves, your new book has sold about 30 percent of what the first two books sold.”
Thirty percent? But the events had been packed, both before and after Atlantic City. Before and after Jase. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“We can’t place the blame for the lackluster sales directly on your, ah, personal life, but it does seem odd that this book, the book that was supposed to break you out of the relationship niche, has performed worse just when your personal life was taking a turn for the better. I’m sending you a link,” he said, and she heard her phone ping with a new message.
Sabrina clicked the link and cringed.
Playboy Gambler Had His Way with Me.
Oh, God, the woman from the casino, it had to be her. Sabrina skimmed the article, which insinuated that Jase had chased the woman down in the casino, and that he’d seduced her in a private lounge near the poker tables.
“Mr. Lambert, I can assure you this article is a complete fabrication. Jase and I have broken up, but it has nothing to do with the fiction this woman is selling. That isn’t what happened at the casino, and Jase can prove it.”
Lambert shook his head. “I’m afraid it is too late. We warned you a week ago that there could be repercussions for your actions.”
Panic clawed at her throat. She’d just lost Jase, the man that she loved; she couldn’t lose her career, too. “The press surrounding Jase will die down. I can have Molly release a statement—”
“I’m afraid the damage is done. We see two options at this point. One, you finish the tour, but we pull the ad dollars from the budget, and your book is soon forgotten about.”
She didn’t like that option. She didn’t like it at all.
“And the second?”
“You buy out your contract, the rights are reverted to you, and you can do whatever you wish with it from this point forward.”
She didn’t like that option, either. Buying out the contract would take most of her savings, even with the winnings she had left from the tournament. The option of controlling the book, though, was interesting. She believed in the book, and so did her readers. She had ten sold-out conference center events to attest to the connection she had with her readers. Jase believed in it, too. At least, she thought he was being truthful about liking the book before that incident at the Emir.
Her stomach still felt tied up in knots, and she was finding it hard to breathe through the hard ball of panic that had lodged in her throat.
She didn't want to be alone in her personal or professional life, but, if she were going to be on her own, she might as well go all the way. The words she’d spoken to her mother echoed in her mind again.
When you stop looking for what you think you need, you find what you truly want.
Maybe Melinda was right, and she’d gotten the saying wrong all these years. Maybe she had to stop searching for what she wanted—love, security, and companionship—to get what she needed. Stability, security, and faith in herself.
“Forward the contract dissolution,” she said.
Sabrina logged off the video chat. Now, she just had to figure out if stability, security, and faith in herself were all the things she needed.
• • •
Jase was in a foul mood. He’d been in a foul mood since he’d picked that fight with Sabrina and given a voice to all the squiggly fears he’d been hiding for most of his life.
“What in the hell are you doing?” Rollie’s voice echoed around the barn. He stepped out of the hayloft and onto the ladder, making his way to the main floor wearing his usual ranch uniform of faded jeans and a chambray shirt. His boots echoed against the concrete floor. “Don’t you have a charity poker tournament
to get to?”
Jase took a set of keys from the wall. The last thing he wanted was to play poker for charity. He wanted to drive out into the desert and stay there until he’d forgotten how Sabrina smelled, what her voice sounded like, and the feel of her soft skin against his.
He wanted to stay there until he could say, for certain, that he didn’t love her. Right now, he couldn’t say that.
Jase couldn’t put his finger on exactly when, but at some point between Atlantic City and the afternoon they’d spent at the ranch with his family, he’d fallen hard for Sabrina Smith. Then he’d gotten frustrated and, okay, a little scared, and sent a desert sandstorm to obliterate their relationship.
“I heard through the family grapevine that pretty girl you brought out here isn’t around anymore.”
“Nope.” Jase got into the four-wheeler and started it up.
“Shame.”
He shrugged, hoping Rollie would drop the subject. The old foreman didn’t.
“She seemed like a nice girl.”
Nice didn’t begin to describe Sabrina. She was warm and funny, smart and passionate. Just looking at her made his toes curl and holding her close to him sent a feeling of completion through him.
“I messed it up,” he said and turned off the engine.
“I figured.” Jase shot Rollie a look. The older man didn’t seem to care. “She’s too smart to have messed it up.”
“I just … ” Jase let the sentence trail off and then shook his head. “Why did Caleb chase after Helena all those years?”
“Devotion. He loved your mother like I’d never seen before or have since. He just wanted to love her at first, then, when he saw how gambling had changed her, he wanted to save her. Never could get him to understand that she had to save herself. She had to want a life outside the casino for herself. He couldn’t want it for her.”
Jase considered his next words carefully. He’d examined them on his own a few times since Sabrina walked out, but he couldn’t see the answer.
“Am I like her? Or am I like him?”
“I see your mother in you all the time.”
Jase nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” And that was why Sabrina was better off without him. Why he was better off without her. Sooner or later, he would hurt her the way his mother had hurt his brothers and his father. Sabrina deserved better than that. She deserved everything that was good in the world. The only thing he was good at was gambling, and gambling wasn’t good.
“I see her in your eyes, that green mixed with brown is an almost perfect match. Mostly, though, I see her in your determination.”
“Determination?” Jase had never used that particular word to describe his mother. Distressed, that was a D word that described her. Dissolute. Deranged, at times. Dangerous. Never determined, though.
“Caleb could never have gotten her back if some part of her didn’t want to be here. Every time the need for a gambling fix made her run to the casinos, her determination to be better than the addiction brought her back. She’d have stayed here with you boys and Caleb forever if she could have. She and gambling had a long fight to see who was stronger.”
“Gambling was.”
Rollie shrugged. “When she died, she was coming back here, and she was coming back on her own, not because of him.” The older man left the barn with Jase sitting dumbfounded in the four-wheeler.
He’d never given much thought to why Helena was coming home that night. In the middle of a storm. When, according to the police reports, she’d left before the game was even over. Anger at her, for leaving them once more and for asking him to leave his brothers alone, had kept him from examining what might have led her to be on the road on that night.
She’d been coming home. Without Caleb forcing her back. If she’d tried to come back that time on her own, it was plausible that every other time she came back it was because she wanted to be there, too.
Like she was the addict staring down the cards, daring them to take her. Exactly what Sabrina accused him of doing.
He didn’t want to stare down the cards, daring them to take him.
He wanted her.
Chapter Fourteen
Jase pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called the spa. Callie’s assistant, Mandy, answered.
“Is Sabrina Smith still on the roster?” he asked.
He could hear Mandy paging through the roster of poker players. “I’ve got a Sampson, a Simpson, a Stuttgart, but no Smiths,” she said. “They’re getting ready to start. Are you almost here?”
“I need you to take my name off the roster, too,” he said, as he hung the four-wheeler keys back on the hook. “I have something I need to take care of.”
“Gage isn’t going to be happy.”
“Gage will understand,” Jase said and disconnected the call. Then he called Miranda.
“Why aren’t you here? The tournament is about to start,” she said.
“I have something I need to take care of, and I need your help. Can you get me Sabrina’s home address? It’s unlisted, and she is a killer when it comes to internet privacy. My search engine skills haven’t been able to pull up anything solid other than Henderson.”
Miranda was silent for a long moment. “Sure,” she said finally. “Are you sure you don’t want Connor for this?”
“Positive.” He didn’t have time for a long conversation with either of his brothers. Jase pulled onto the highway that would take him back to town. He didn’t know Miranda well enough for her to ask the kinds of questions Gage or Connor or even Callie would ask.
She was quiet for a long moment. “Are you sure she wants you to show up on her doorstep?”
“No.” In fact, he was nearly positive she would not want him to show up on her doorstep. But it had been three days since she walked out on him. Three days and he could still hear the hurt in her voice. Three days and he was still cursing himself for picking the fight and taking things where he’d taken them. For letting his demons tear into Sabrina like addiction tore into gambling addicts.
He’d seen in the newspaper that she canceled the last tour stop outside Las Vegas, and he knew from Mandy she was no longer on the list of players for tonight’s charity tournament. It stood to reason she had canceled the event at Holliday Spas, too, and that probably meant she was at her condo. Unless she’d gone to Hawaii to be with Melinda. If she had … he would catch the next flight out.
Finally, Miranda said, “I’ll call you back.”
“Just text it to me. It’ll be easier to get it into my GPS,” he said.
Jase pushed his truck past the speed limit, in a hurry to get back to Las Vegas and then into Henderson. He was halfway to town when Miranda texted the Henderson address to him. Jase clicked it into his GPS and kept driving.
When he found her condo, a ranch-style home with a xeriscaped yard and some desert wildflowers, he thought it was perfectly Sabrina. Stylish, simple. Beautiful. Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached into his glove box and then hurried up the walk to her door. He knocked once.
Sabrina opened the door a couple of moments later, and her green eyes widened in shock. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the glasses she’d had on in the picture attached to that first article were rested atop her head. Three weeks and he hadn’t known she wore glasses. That should tell him something. Like he should maybe go home and leave her alone.
“Hi,” he said instead of turning on his heel to leave.
“Jase. You’re supposed to be at the poker tournament.” She wore faded jeans and a yellow camisole, and her feet were bare. She didn’t motion him inside. Jase thought she had never looked better. God, he loved her. He took a breath, letting the words settle somewhere in his soul. He loved her. For the first time in a long time, he felt a bit lighter.
“I decided there was a more important game in town. Can I come in?”
She gave him room to come into the condo. The interior was simple, just like the exterior. Just like Sabr
ina. Tiled floors led from the entryway through the living area and into the kitchen. She’d painted the walls a light blue and a low, white sectional dominated the seating area. Instead of paintings or prints on the walls, she’d decorated with randomly sized tables and live flowers, making the condo smell like a country garden.
Jase walked the rooms, taking it all in. This was Sabrina. Clean and open and welcoming.
“Well, you’re here. What game are you playing this time?” she asked, and beneath the hard edge to her voice, Jase thought he heard a tremble of uncertainty, too.
He took the deck of cards he’d gotten out of the truck from his back pocket. “Five-card draw. It’s my favorite poker game.” He waited a long moment, but she didn’t invite him to sit down. He pulled a chair from the table and sat anyway. “It’s also going to be my last poker game.”
Sabrina blinked at him. He began to shuffle the deck, and after a long moment she crossed the living room to stand beside the table. “But you love poker.”
“I love you more,” he said, unable to keep the words to himself a moment longer. He loved Sabrina Smith, and he wanted her to know how important she was to him. She might deserve a better man than he, but he would never find anyone better than her. If it took changing everything about his life, from gambling for sport to gambling for work, he would change it. Jase just needed some kind of signal to know what she wanted.
Sabrina blinked at him. “You … what?” She pulled a chair out from the table and sat down hard.
“I love you, and I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Jase took a breath. He still didn’t know what she wanted from him, which meant he would have to give her everything. For the first time, the thought of giving her all the power in their relationship didn’t scare him.
“For implying you were using me for headlines and sex. For not trusting that what I feel for you, what I think you feel for me, is stronger than either of our pasts.” He shuffled the cards again. “I can go on.”
What the Gambler Risks Page 15
