High Stakes: A Texas Heat Romance

by Camilla Stevens

  “More like…,”Juliet paused, her eyes rolling up to find the right way to describe it. “You know those people who look at a car or computer and want to pull it apart, looking at every gear and gasket, just to figure out how it works? That’s how my mind works, except with data.

  “Like the geode, from when we first met. I was spinning my wheels wondering about every facet of its existence. Like, are there geodes in the Amazon, or Antarctica, the Sahara Desert…outer space? Why or why not? Has global warming affected it? Or in the alternative, what impact will one or a number of outside forces have on it?

  “There was this story I read in high school. A man goes back in time to the prehistoric era, steps on a butterfly and next thing you know the timeline of history is completely changed.”

  “A Sound of Thunder,” Chance said.

  Juliet gave him an admiring look. “Look at you, Mr. Know-it-all. Personally, I think the author was far too conservative with regard to the potential impact. I mean a single butterfly over the course of millions of years? First you have all the animals that didn’t get a chance to eat that butterfly. So they go after another poor insect. Or maybe they just starve and die. Then you have the flowers that weren’t pollinated by that single butterfly. Maybe over time an entire species becomes extinct because of that one butterfly. Then of course the eggs that it never got to lay. So those butterflies were never created, then—”

  “Okay, okay, okay,” Chance said, chuckling slightly as he put his hands up in surrender. “I get it, you like to think.”

  Juliet realized she had become overly animated as her thoughts spiraled further and further into the possibilities. “Well, now you see why origami helps,” she laughed.

  Chance nodded, then looked down at his work with an amused frown. “I think I may need to try this over again.”

  “I always feel like I’m a teenager with you.”

  “Well that’s fitting, because I always feel like a dirty old man with you.”

  They both chuckled until it evolved into uncontrollable laughter. Then Juliet got off the beach towel next to his and ran into the waves. Chance was quick on her heels, picking her up when she was only knee deep and swinging her around.

  That’s when she knew she might be falling in love with him.

  That’s also when Chance knew he had a goal other than getting back into a life of poker.

  They were at his apartment now. Chance kept the air conditioner much colder than she preferred so she had thrown on one of his button-up flannel shirts.

  He crawled further and further toward her until he was practically on top of her. She fell back with a laugh and he crawled over her until he was straddling her prone body on all fours. She looked up into his eyes and saw the same hunger that was filling her.

  “Unbutton that shirt,” he instructed.

  She rapidly began to undo the buttons.

  “Slower,” he urged.

  She smiled and licked her lips which caused him to bite his lip with a groan. Slowly she unbuttoned one button after the other, working her way down, leaving the tiniest gap of flesh between the two sides to tempt him.

  “Very nice,” he purred.

  “I like it when you say that,” she smiled, remembering the first time she’d ever seen him mouth those exact words.

  “I’ll say it every damn minute if it gets you underneath me lookin’ like this,” he said, grinning. His eyes trailed down the inch wide stretch of flesh from her collar bone to the slit between her legs.

  “Now open it up…slowly,” he coaxed.

  She trailed her fingers underneath the two sides, slowly slipping them across the swell of her breasts. Then past the hardened nipples. Then finally down to her sides until she was completely exposed to him. Having the shirt still wrapped around her upper arms and lying to the side of her, made it seem even more scandalous.

  His gaze lingered over every inch of her. She felt totally on display for his roaming eyes, and the feeling was creating a veritable tsunami between her legs. If he didn’t act soon she was going to come just from those eyes alone.

  “Very nice,” he said again, smirking down at her.

  He reached one long arm over to the night stand and opened the drawer. He pulled out a condom and ripped it open with his teeth. Just as he was about to roll it down his cock she reached up and grabbed his hand.

  “Let me,” she insisted. “I like the way you feel in my hands.”

  Chance grinned and handed it over.

  Juliet slid it down his shaft slowly, loving the way his eyes wandered over her exposed body. When she was done, he carefully settled between her legs, sliding into what was by now familiar territory for both of them.

  “Yes,” she breathed, closing her eyes as she embraced the feel of him. “I’m going to miss this next week.”

  “Don’t,” he said softly, then began rocking inside of her. That erased any thoughts of being without him as she felt her body respond.

  “Oh, god Chance, yes, yes, yes!” she cried out as the tide rose and rose, eventually crashing into a shuddering wave of pleasure through her body.

  The already sensitive parts of her were reignited as he continued on.

  “That’s right, fuck me, Chance” she urged. “I wanna feel you come for me. I want to remember it.”

  That spurred him on until he found his own earth shattering orgasm. With a loud groan she felt his dick pulsate against her inner walls. She embraced it, watching the pleasure run through him. Finally Chance fell on top of her in exhaustion. Eventually, he rolled off of her, still breathing heavyily.

  “That one is definitely going into vault for when I’m back on the rig,” he chuckled.

  The two weeks were almost up. Both of them could already feel the void of the other being out of their lives for another two weeks.

  Chance was painting her toenails which was something no man had ever done for her. Juliet thought it was the most romantic thing ever.

  “So what’s the plan when you get back?” she asked trying to think of something positive to focus on.

  “I have a few darts. All we need is a map,” he said, not looking up from the red that he was layering on her third toe.

  She laughed and kicked him with her other foot.

  “Hey, I just finished those,” he protested.

  “You have to let that one go. I’m not flying off to the middle of the Pacific on a whim.”

  “Don’t knock it. There are some very nice places in the middle of the Pacific.”

  Juliet nodded tilting her head to the side in acknowledgement of that. “But really, what do you want to do?”

  “I’m serious. Jump on a plane and go.”

  She stared at him with a half-smile. “You are aren’t you?”

  “I think you secretly want to too,” he replied before blowing on her finished foot.

  Juliet mulled that over. It was a crazy idea, but that’s why she was sitting here with him. Everything about this was crazy.

  And she loved every moment of it.

  “Time’s up, sweetheart,” Chance whispered in her ear.

  She was settled into that comfortable and familiar space between his arm and chest, her face pressed into him. She gave a noncommittal, and completely unintelligible noise.

  Chance didn’t need to understand the words to get the sentiment behind them. He was just as disappointed in having to go back.

  “Two weeks and I’m right back here,” he promised into her head.

  She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight for good measure.

  Once upon a time, he could have indulged this moment, letting it linger until another game of poker called to him. As it was, he had obligations, obligations that usurped even the feel of Juliet holding on tight to him.

  Oddly enough, it made him that much more eager to go. Go and get this shit over with. Go and pay off his dues. Go and return to his old life, a life where he could wake up like this…and just enjoy the moment.

  As i
f syncing with his thoughts, Juliet relaxed her arms, letting him slink out from underneath her. Chance knelt by the bed, watching her sleepy face as it bounced in and out of consciousness.

  “I want to remember you like this. Two weeks and I’m right back here with you.”

  She gave him a sleepy smile. “Two weeks.”

  “Two weeks,” he promised.

  “I love you, Chance.”

  It took a moment register, taking in those half closed eyes, the utterance mumbled into a pillow. The purple light shining through the blinds hinted at the wee hours of the morning that would soon come. Most men would have taken it as the ambiguous musings of a woman coming down off the high of two weeks of pure, unadulterated hedonism.

  To Chance, it was the God’s honest truth. And he responded in kind.

  “I love you too, Juliet.” He leaned in to kiss her smooth brow then he left, mentally counting down the days until he could return.

  19

  “Where the hell is Chip?”

  Chance had been waiting until the last moment to board the helicopter transport, growing more and more concerned at the absence of his brother.

  He’d called Chip’s cell phone multiple times and left several texts, all with no response.

  He was now questioning Trey, who was probably closest to Chip out of all the fellow returnees.

  “No idea, but he better get his ass here soon,” Trey replied, shrugging.

  Dammit!

  Chance thought back to Chip’s casual suggestion from two weeks ago and his frustration settled in.

  What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Chip?

  Chance knew that Chip was fairly susceptible to an opportunistic scheme that might put a little money in his pocket. He also knew that Chip had very good reasons for not doing something that goddamned stupid.

  Finally, it was boarding time. Chance looked back, hoping that Chip might be busting his ass to make it to the helicopter, after being caught in traffic or oversleeping or some other reason that wasn’t his worst fear.

  “You comin’?” the last crew member asked as he boarded.

  Chance looked back and forth between the helicopter and the area behind them.

  Then he made his decision.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” his mother asked as she stared at her oldest son standing on her porch. She looked at him with a mixture of surprise, pleasure, and a hint of trepidation.

  Even at 58 years old, Katherine cut a striking figure. She had been beautiful in her youth, modeling here and there before she met Jackson McCoy. Chance had seen enough of the pictures of her from before he was born to understand why, even if she was his own mother. Heaven knew he’d had to knock more than a few teeth out of his classmates when he was younger after they made an untoward remark about her.

  Today, the platinum blonde hair came mostly from the bottle. The length that once met her lower back, now stopped at her shoulders in a chic bob. Her crystal clear, blue eyes had fine lines around the edges.

  “Chip didn’t make it on to the chopper, Ma.”

  She took a moment to process that, staring at Chance with unreadable eyes. He had inherited his ability to keep a level head from her. All the same, he could feel the mix of emotions running through her, mostly because he’d gone through the same emotional roller coaster.

  “I suppose it would be stupid to ask if you’ve tried calling him?”

  “And I interrogated all the guys heading back to the rig. I just wanted to check with you, to see if maybe….”

  She just shook her head, and cast her eyes down to the ground to think.

  “Did he at least visit you in the past two weeks?” Chance asked. They both made a point to drop in on her at some point during the two weeks they were off.

  “He was here, right on schedule, as soon as he got off that chopper. After that I didn’t see him, but I didn’t really expect to.”

  “He didn’t happen to,” Chance treaded very carefully here, “mention what he might be up to while he was out here, did he?”

  Her eyes shot up quicker than lightning.

  Chance tried to remain neutral: relaxed posture; lips turned slightly down at the edges in a mildly questioning frown; smooth brow; hands casually placed in the pockets of his jeans.

  Unfortunately, Katherine McCoy had a mother’s instinct for sensing trouble.

  “Okay, what’s going on?

  “Nothing, Ma, I just—”

  “I’m your mother, Chance. Do you think either of you two boys can hide anything from me? Now tell me what’s going on.”

  Chance sighed. “He did mention something about us getting off the rig. I think he was taking advantage of Dmitri being dead and all. I thought it was just idle talk. You know how he is. Now maybe I’m thinkin’…he had something going on.”

  “Ugh, that boy,” she sighed, bringing one fine hand up to her forehead in frustration. “I swear to God he will be the death of me. Too much like his father for his own good.”

  Chance let that one simmer on very low heat.

  He watched her quickly recover, transforming into the woman who took action instead of letting life tear her down: deep breath; straightened shoulders; firm set to the lips; a direct look into his eyes.

  “You have a better idea of what he gets up to during his two weeks off than I do.”

  “I’ll hit up all the usual suspects, see if they know anything,” he said, nodding. “You might want to check with hospitals and the police and such. For all we know he landed himself in jail, which might just be good news.”

  “If he’s not in the hospital or jail,” there was a slight pause and a barely noticeable tremor in her voice before she continued on, “I’ll be the one putting him there my damn self!”

  That was good. A sense of humor to ease the concern that was running through both of them.

  As often as Chance himself was exasperated by his baby brother, he had no wish to see him hurt or locked up or worse.

  “Mom, you’re going to probably have to ask around with…” he didn’t need to finish the sentence.

  That sharp, icy-blue, look pierced him. Then, it quickly faded as she realized he was right.

  “I’ll ask around with my family. If there is anything going on they’ll know about it. ”

  He just nodded, knowing how much he was asking of her to tap into the world she was forced to leave behind. But she was Chip’s mother. The thought had no doubt already crossed her mind.

  “I should get started,” he said. “If you learn anything, anything at all, let me know. I’ll do the same.”

  “I will, sweetheart.”

  He brought her in for a fierce hug, both of them holding on to one another as a shield against the dread of the worst case scenario.

  Then Chance pulled away and jogged down those front steps that he’d run down since he was a boy.

  “Chance?” he heard her call out just as he reached the walkway back to his truck.

  He turned back to look at her and saw that fiercely determined woman who’d raised both of her boys when it was only the three of them look more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

  “I want my baby boy back to me.”

  “We’ll find him, Ma.”

  His first stop was to a strip club.

  He waited until evening, when the quality of the dancers transitioned from the too-old or too-new parade of hopefuls to the performers who could give the average Playboy centerfold a run for her money.

  Even though it was a Monday, any dancer with a head on her shoulders knew that it could potentially be a minor windfall when it came to earning money. Already, the club was sprinkled with the men who had just clocked out from a job they realized they had four more lousy days of. Girls like Crystal offered a tiny glimmer of joy to get them through the rest of the week.

  Cherry Bonner, a.k.a “Crystal,” was probably the brightest ray of sunshine in the place.

  Chance wasn’t a regular patron of strip club
s. Having grown up in a world that separated a man from his money in the slickest ways possible, he knew a con when he saw one. Strip clubs were right up there with politicians and televangelists when it came to taking advantage of marks.

  He’d been there for almost an hour, nursing a glass of bourbon on ice. He was close enough to the stage to be noticed by the dancers, but not so close he was interfering with their income. By now, every woman working in the place figured him for a window shopper not a buyer, and avoided him like the plague. At most, he had thrown a few bucks on stage when it looked like some poor girl wasn’t getting her money’s worth. Chance had a soft spot for hustlers.

  All the same, he wasn’t here to play Daddy Warbucks.

  Finally, the night eased into prime time, and “Crystal” eventually made her appearance. Although Chance didn’t know too many strippers, he was pretty sure Cherry was one of the very few who had deliberately given herself a stage name that sounded less like a stripper name than her God-given name.

  Chance took a moment to reflect on Chip’s taste in women as she worked her body around the pole. His brother definitely had a preference for the cheerleader-cum-Barbie type. “Crystal” was all big, blonde hair and big, fake tits and big, fake smile. Her outfit, prior to removal, was just a bit too reminiscent of a certain franchise out of Dallas. But hey, why not let the men surrounding that stage think they were being privy to a nice little peek at a bona fide cheerleader?

  She had ignored Chance while on stage, just like a professional, focusing on the men waving dollar bills instead. When she finished her second set Chance perked up, waiting for his moment. He knew she’d be making the rounds soon enough, looking for $20 lap dances, maybe even a trip to the Champagne Room.

  He had positioned himself right next to that stage exit so he’d be the first thing she saw, twenty dollar bill firmly in hand, when she made her appearance.

  He saw the momentary bit of startled confusion before recognition set in. Chance and Chip looked remarkably similar in appearance. Same longish, dark-blondish, hair. Same objectively handsome face. When Chance threw on that aw-shucks smile that came so easily to his brother, they might as well have been twins, despite the 3-year age difference.