High Stakes: A Texas Heat Romance

by Camilla Stevens

  “What’s she do?”

  “College Professor,” Chance said, smiling.

  “Well lah dee dah,” Chip said with a prissy wave of the hand. “Big brother’s stepping up in the world.” He gave Chance a sly look. “How much does she know about you?”

  Chance gave him a direct look back. “Everything. Speaking of which, everything copacetic?”

  Might as well cut to the chase.

  Chip sighed and his cheerful vibe began to visibly fade. “We gonna do this every damn time?”

  “Yes, every damn time,” he placed his hand firmly on Chip’s arm. “I need you to remember why we’re on this rig. We’re here to do one thing and one thing only and you know it. You also know why.”

  “Maybe I should just spend the entire two weeks that I’m off in church on my knees askin’ God to absolve me of all my sins.”

  “Just so long as you don’t give them money,” Chance said dryly.

  “What does it matter? A little birdie told me Dmitri’s dead,” Chip said with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  Chance gave Chip a sharp look. “Who told you that?”

  “So you know already,” Chip confirmed, instead of answering the question.

  “Yeah I know. I also know it doesn’t change a damn thing. You think Leo’s gonna go easier on us than Dmitri?”

  Chip gave him a sullen look.

  “Don’t give me that look. I’m just thinkin’ about Ma,” Chance said in a more relaxed tone. “You know what will happen if we don’t pay up. They’ll go after her, after they come for us.”

  “Maybe now that Leo’s in charge it will change things,” he said a bit too ambiguously. “Maybe even get you off this rig earlier, since you seem to hate it here so much.”

  Chip’s suggestion set off all the alarms in Chance’s head. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” Chip said, just a little too quickly, then averted his eyes.

  He grabbed Chip by the arm again. “I’m serious, Chip. I don’t care what the hell happened to Dmitri. You stay copacetic. No gambling. Not even a damn friendly wager over darts. Definitely no hustles.”

  He watched his brother carefully, looking for any indication that Chip’s suggestion just now was anything more than idle talk. Chip’s poker face was good, but his tell was usually around the eyes: a slight gleam, or squint, darting too much, anything really.

  Chip gave him a direct, hard stare, throwing his hand off his arm. “Stop tryin’ to read me.”

  Chance let go. “There’s no room for error on this Chip. Whatever is going on with the Houston family, it’s got nothing to do with us outside of this money we owe. I for one would like to keep it that way. I suggest you do the same.”

  “Yeah,” Chip said, then inhaled deeply, giving Chance a measured look, adding with a sarcastic tone, “It’s been great catching up with you big brother, as usual.”

  Chance watched his brother walk off with a gait in his step that told him Chip was pissed off. The next two weeks would give him plenty of time to get it out of his system. Whatever dumb idea he had going on in his head would hopefully have faded away by the time they had their next two weeks off.

  He felt bad about always having to greet him this way, but Chance knew from experience that if Chip didn’t expect this little interrogation each time he came back to the rig, and again as they left for their two weeks off, he’d do something stupid.

  The last thing Chance needed in his life right now was more distractions.

  12

  Bees.

  Bratva.

  Butterflies.

  Bees.

  Juliet pushed her office chair away from her desk with a loud sigh. How the hell was she supposed to concentrate in the face of everything that had happened that weekend?

  She looked at the piles of books and journals and papers she had printed off or copied, all detailing weather patterns and bee populations and agricultural studies and global warming reports.

  It was an important topic she was researching, very important. It was sure to put her well on track for tenure. It was sure to be cited in a multitude of interdisciplinary studies. It was boring.

  She grabbed one of the papers on her desk with a multitude of notes she’d already scratched out. As she mindlessly folded it, she thought about Chance. A shiver went through her that was heavily traced with excitement, maybe even a little bit of lust.

  The closest thing to dangerous that she’d ever experience while dating prior to him was the criminal attorney, who certainly had fun stories to tell about his prior clients. DUIs and Criminal Possession with Intent were nothing compared to underground poker and Russian mobsters.

  The attorney was also nothing compared to Chance. Chance with his fuck-me smirk and Texas drawl. Chance with his body that was hard as steel. Chance who could attract delicate butterflies to his shoulder and drag men halfway down the block as they cursed at him in Russian.

  Juliet felt her body heat rise.

  It made absolutely no rational sense. Unlike what movies and books liked to portray, opposites didn’t attract. Chance and Juliet were most definitely opposites.

  Weren’t they?

  She thought back to his comment about looking for men “in the wrong phone book.” Could she actually throw a dart at a map and just take off? Could she quit this safe career she’d chosen just because it was safe, even if it sparked nothing but tedium in her?

  Could she be in a relationship with a man like Chance?

  She looked down at the finished origami she had been folding. It was a butterfly.

  He’s perfect.

  Juliet stared at the profile of the man who had messaged her on Match.com. Prior to meeting Chance she had been playing the odds with several different online dating websites—ones that weren’t obviously geared toward hookups—in order to increase the chances of meeting her match, so to speak.

  Even two weeks later, Chance was completely dominating her brain such that she couldn’t focus on anything or anyone else since they’d parted. She would be watching TV and her mind would wander to that first night when he’d been so bold in approaching her. She’d be lying in bed and her body would ache, feeling the disappointment of not having had sex that night at the Hotel ZaZa.

  The kiss was the worst. Sitting in traffic, working out at the gym, brushing her teeth, making her morning oatmeal, it was during the most mundane things it would pop into her head, making her body heat spike so fast she literally needed to fan herself.

  This wasn’t normal.

  Juliet wanted normal, needed normal. Normal was what made a relationship last. Lust didn’t. Excitement wore off. Good looks faded. Charm eventually gave in to complacency. Chance was all of those things bundled up in one tempting package.

  He was going to be waiting there for her at the butterfly center tomorrow. If she showed up, he’d be coming to San Antonio to meet her family, and that would mean something serious.

  Purely to put the issue to rest, she had logged into all her online profiles to see how he held up against the competition. She had to make absolutely sure, or at least sure to a statistically significant degree, that she was making the right decision here, especially in light of everything he’d revealed.

  She hadn’t been expecting much. Her brain was already biased in favor of one man. Both OkCupid and eHarmony had been the usual smorgasbord of Good On Paper men that she knew she’d lose interest in soon enough. Then she’d seen this message and the profile attached to it.

  Liam: Age, 34; single, height, 6’1”; never married; wants kids; non-smoker; social drinker; athletic and toned.

  He worked in the oil industry on the executive side making very nice salary. Juliet couldn’t help but compare him to Chance based on that alone. Liam certainly wasn’t building up any hard muscles sitting behind a desk.

  Liam’s message was funny and actually touched on things she’d written about in her profile, which was rare. He mentioned the international places he h
ad traveled to already and his excitement to visit even more. Even his suggested date was not completely dull. Instead of the usual dinner or drinks or movie, he offered to take her to a Sluggers game.

  He was in a word: perfect.

  She should respond. Men like this didn’t wait around. He was everything any woman should want.

  Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, waiting for her brain to come to a decision.

  Don’t be stupid, Juliet.

  That snapped her out of it and she began typing.

  It was finally Saturday again and she was at spin class, only half tuned in. Kenny had them doing that annoying up and down maneuver that she hated, even if it was to the tune of Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You, which she loved. Today her angst was focused solely on herself, and the decision she had come to last night about today’s date.

  What the hell were you thinking, Juliet?

  “Up outta those seats!”

  Girl, you know I want your love

  “And down!”

  Your love was handmade for somebody like me

  “Up!”

  Come on now, follow my lead

  “Down!”

  I may be crazy, don't mind me

  Why the hell did all Kenny’s songs always have to be so on point?

  She’d given Liam a very nice, thanks but no thanks.

  Stupid!

  He was perfect, but he wasn’t Chance.

  Stupid! Stupid!

  It didn’t necessarily mean that she had to meet up with Chance today. She could just go straight to San Antonio and forget about men, period. That would be the rational thing to do.

  “And down! Now turn up the speed!”

  She sat on her bike and pedaled fast as the song went on.

  I’m in love with the shape of you

  We push and pull like a magnet do

  Although my heart is falling too….

  Oh, shut up Ed!

  “So do you owe me a drink at Starbucks today?” Shayla asked as they were wiping down their bikes after class.

  Juliet had completely forgotten about her little bet from two weeks ago. Last week, Shayla and her husband were out of town on vacation, so this was the first time she’d seen her since meeting up with Chance.

  “You were right, he was there,” she said with a shrug.

  Shayla stopped wiping her bike and stared at her in surprise. “Well, shit. I was actually joking. Now I’m really looking forward to Starbucks. I want to know everything.”

  “Oh, I can’t. Today’s my parents anniversary party that I told you about. I have to pack and get ready.”

  The disappointment in Shayla’s face was palpable, mixed with a heavy dose of suspicion. “You aren’t just trying to get out of telling me because you found some stupid flaw in him so you can dump him like all the others? Like maybe he likes to eat dessert first or he uses an Android instead of an iPhone or some other silly nonsense?”

  “If you only knew,” Juliet said without thinking.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. She didn’t want to spill all of Chance’s business to her friend. It seemed disloyal.

  “He’s just, really different from me, a lot more than I expected.”

  Shayla wrinkled her brow at her, picking up on her vibe. “Is he safe?”

  Juliet pondered that, remembering how she felt in his arms in that hotel room, then the way his arm had instinctively come up around her when Alexi approached them. She couldn’t have felt more safe, even in the face of all his baggage.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “Yes.” That answer came quicker.

  “Then that answers it.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “What’s complicating it?”

  Juliet ran through everything in her mind and came to a realization. The only one complicating it was her.

  13

  “Copacetic?”

  “Yeah, copacetic,” Chip responded, bouncing on his feet with a mixture of impatience and eagerness to get going.

  Chance looked him over. He wasn’t particularly fond of the anxious look in his brother’s eyes. “So what are your plans?” he asked as casually as possible.

  That’s when the curtain dropped and Chip’s eyes lost their bright-eyed sheen, mellowing into a cool look he shot Chance’s way.

  “Are you my mother now? Makin’ sure I’m a good little boy for the next two weeks?”

  Chance didn’t have time for this shit. Chip wasn’t the only one with plans while off the rig. And no, Chance wasn’t Chip’s mother. Chip was a big boy and could handle himself. He knew the consequences if he didn’t.

  “You know what? I don’t care what you get up to out there. Enjoy yourself, little brother.”

  Chip gave him a suspicious look as if waiting for the catch.

  “Fine, I’ll see you in two weeks,” he said slowly, then he gave Chance a defiant look and added, “who knows, maybe you won’t even have to give me this copacetic shit when I get back.”

  Chance didn’t like the sound of that, or more importantly, the way Chip looked at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

  The curtain came down over Chip’s face again. “Nothin’,” he said with a sour twist of the lips. Then he quickly walked off before Chance could read him or say anything else.

  Chance watched him go. Any other day, he would have followed up on that little conversation. At least Chip hadn’t given Chance the usual earful of protests, no doubt eager to hit up his favorite strip club.

  Today, Chance let it go. He had bigger issues on his mind, namely: Would Juliet be at the butterfly center today?

  He wandered around the butterfly center. Even the butterflies seemed to sense his internal tension and stayed well away from him.

  He shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t fair to Juliet or, frankly, to himself. The last thing he needed was a relationship, and if Juliet showed up today, that was exactly what this would turn into. San Antonio? Her family? Their damn anniversary party no less.

  There was also his conversation with Chip, reminding him of priority number one. Now here he was feeling like a damn hypocrite.

  Hell, maybe she wouldn’t even show up, thus saving him the problem of whether or not he was up for something serious with anyone. It had been one date. He had no claim on the woman. If she couldn’t handle him complete with all his issues, then maybe she wasn’t the woman for him after all. The thought made him irrationally upset.

  “Well, hello there stranger.”

  He turned to see Juliet cocking her head at him with his favorite smile on her face.

  “So you have one more year?”

  They were walking the same path they had last time, his hand around her waist. He had promised to answer truthfully any and all questions she had about his situation.

  “The way things are going, maybe a bit less.”

  She stopped and turned to him. He could read the nagging question all over her, but he waited for her to actually ask it. “So this is just a debt right? Once it’s paid, your only involvement would be playing poker?”

  “Actually, I think I’ve had my fill of organized crime and the underground scene.” It was true. Finding someone who could quite possibly fill an empty void in his life had changed his perspective. He certainly didn’t want to end up like his father, leaving a family behind over some stupid game.

  That seemed to calm her a little, then her eyes sparkled with some new thought. “What if you don’t pay it off?”

  “That’s not going to happen,” he said firmly.

  “I know, but what would happen if…?”

  He brought his hand up to her chin, lifting it to face him. “It’s not going to happen.”

  Her brain wouldn’t let the “what if’s” go. He could read it all over her expression.

  “If you’re worried about yourself, you don’t need to be. Think of my situation as nothing more than a business transact
ion. Yes, the people involved are…dangerous. But in the end it’s just business. If I don’t pay up, the only one on the line is yours truly.”

  “It isn’t me I’m worried about.”

  “Your family will be fine too,” he said with a slightly confused look.

  “It’s you I’m worried about,” she said, as though that was obvious.

  That one went straight to his gut like a punch. The only other selfless person he’d known in his life was his own mother, and even she had too much Russian pragmatism to be one hundred percent altruistic, no matter how much she loved her sons.

  Yes, Juliet was definitely a distraction worth holding on to.

  “Hey,” he said, pulling her in close. “Before I met you, I had every reason in the world to pay off this debt. You’ve just given me a reason to double down on that. Frankly, these past two weeks were torture waiting to see you again. Does that answer your question?”

  She gave him that smile he loved. “Yes.”

  “So, am I still invited for your family weekend up in San Antonio?”

  She laughed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  14

  “Thank God, you’re here. I promised myself I would only start drinking when there was another adult in the house. Sam doesn’t count.”

  Juliet gave her older sister a half-cocked smile as she was dragged in past the front door of her San Antonio home. She had come before Chance in order to help out with that night’s party. She certainly wasn’t going to start putting the man to work on what was technically their second date. She also wanted to feel out her sister to see what his reception would be like.

  “Good to see you too, Bea,” she said.

  Beatrice gave her a droll look. “Oh, don’t you start. Just wait until you have four kids, then you can start judging. Do you know James had the nerve to tell me this morning that Hillary Clinton was more centrist than liberal? Like I need political schooling from a 10-year-old.”