by Ava Miles
The snideness of her tone cracked his resolve. “Don’t fuck with me, Peg.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not what you said before. Be careful what you wish for.” She turned around so fast her dress twirled like she was Ginger Rogers.
“We’re fucked,” Rhett commented as he appeared by his side, his brow sweating. “Can’t we throw the women out?”
Mac eyed the bourbon in his friend’s hand. “Abbie has no interest in Jenkins. She’s not trying to get your goat on purpose.”
“That’s what Rye said.” He tapped his snakeskin boot. “Well, I can’t say the same for your deputy. She’s watching you like a cobra would a mongoose. But you’re still in the lead. You’ve got ice for blood, my friend.”
Mac didn’t respond. If he had ice for blood, he wouldn’t have lost ten percent of his stack or engaged in an idiotic battle of wills with Peggy just now. She was making him loose his cool at the worst possible time.
He set his drink down with a snap. “Let’s get back to the table. The break’s almost over.”
As he followed Rhett, he saw Peggy smirking—actually smirking—at him. What was she, twelve? He took his seat.
Cince bumped him again. “Better stop watching the broad, or I’m going to take you to the cleaners.”
Mac didn’t respond. Usually their banter was friendly and light. But the truth of Cince’s statement burned in his stomach like acid. He hated to lose, but he loathed the idea of losing at his hotel’s opening.
They changed their chips out after the break because the blinds were being raised again. He fingered a twenty–five thousand piece and forced himself not to look at Peggy.
The first hand started off well. He was on the button and was dealt pocket kings. He put his chip protector over those two gentlemen facedown while everyone put in their ante. Cince posted the small blind of fifty thousand, and Rhett posted the big blind of one hundred.
Mac knew it was time to force Rhett to act. His friend only had seven hundred and fifty thousand left. He could bust him out if he played his cards right. Mac raised to three hundred thousand. He barely heard the token gasps in the crowd. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Peggy would be impressed. But hell no, she wouldn’t be impressed. She’d be disgusted.
Rhett looked up from his cards, his eyes burning. Yeah, he knew what Mac was doing.
Mac turned to Cince, who fingered his cards and then called the raise.
Rhett glanced at his cards and went all–in. Mac fought a smile as he heard a few more gasps. Rhett had confirmed his instinct that his friend had an ace with a good kicker. There was no way he was going all in on a bluff. Not at the final table.
He eyed Peggy through his peripheral vision. She stood tall, seemingly impervious to the tension permeating the crowd. Hell, she interrogated suspects for a living. Her blood probably ran colder than his. But even as he contemplated the chill she was giving off in arctic blasts, he couldn’t stop his blood from heating at the sight of her in that dress.
He brought his mind back to the table with an internal shake. Decided to trap Cince by letting him think he had a weaker hand than he did. Make him bet a little more. Take most of his chips. He loved luring players in. He called the bet, matching Rhett’s all–in. Cince’s eyes flickered over to him just as he’d hoped they would. He felt the assessment in them.
The dealer dealt the flop. Mac studied the cards—a ten of clubs, jack of hearts, and queen of spades. He tried to tune out Peggy.
Rhett leaned back in his chair. Mac could feel his excitement building. Yeah, he knew he had a good hand.
When Cince’s turn came, he went all in.
Rhett bit his lip, assessing whether Cince had something better.
Mac called, making the pot one million three hundred and fifty. Someone was going to lose their shirt on this hand.
The dealer dealt the turn, and Lady Luck shone on Mac once again. The dealer laid the ace down. Mac had an ace high straight—or “the nuts”—the best hand at the moment. Rhett was going to bust out unless a king fell. His pursed lip signaled he knew he was in trouble.
“Here’s the river,” the dealer announced.
And please don’t let me cry in it, Mac thought, wondering how he’d feel having Peggy watch him lose.
The dealer laid down a jack of clubs.
Cince slammed his cards down. “Check this shit out, boys. I’ve just rivered a full house.”
Mac’s stomach burned. Cince had beaten him out with a full house, jacks full of aces.
“Don’t that beat all. Well, I’m out,” Rhett commented. His poker babes—decked out in red and black sequined gowns—flocked to his sides as he shoved his chair back, soothing his back and his heartbreak. Rye grabbed him in a bear hug. Camera flashes punctuated the scene. But even Rye’s antics couldn’t make Rhett crack a smile. Mac understood. Losing sucked.
The MC called another break. Mac looked at Cince. It was down to the two of them again, and he was going in short–stacked. He headed to the bar for another Perrier to coat his dry throat, running through his plan. He’d have to go all in on the next hand. Cince was going to force it.
“My, how luck can change on a dime,” Peggy commented by his side.
Why wouldn’t she leave him the fuck alone? “Enjoying yourself?” Mac hissed, nearly calling for a bourbon.
“Yes. I’m especially starting to look forward to our little talks during the breaks.”
He turned to her, waving off Jill, who was barreling toward them with pinched lips. He didn’t need a pregnant woman to handle this situation for him. He ignored the Perrier his bartender extended and crossed his arms. “I didn’t take you for a cruel woman until this moment.”
He had the pleasure of watching her flinch before he walked around to talk to Dustin.
The kid grabbed him in a hug. “You’ll get it back, Uncle Mac.”
Abbie joined them, and put a comforting hand on his arm. “That woman is deliberately aggravating you! Do you want me to have security escort her out?”
“No, she’s only doing it because she knows it’s bothering me. I need to focus.” He kissed the worry line between her eyebrows. “I’ll be fine.” And he walked back to the table.
But he couldn’t get his mental control back. Cince beat him in a single hand. Mac stood and shook the man’s hand. He’d come in second before, but, dammit, he’d wanted to come out ahead at his opening. And he certainly hadn’t wanted to lose because of Peggy.
Rhett sauntered over, leaving Rye to sign autographs. “Come on, man. Let’s get you a drink.”
Mac slapped him on the back. “I almost had one during the game.”
“That would break a big rule for you, but who can blame you with Ms. Cobra staring you down like that? Bet she’d eat you after sex.”
Like he’d care. “You’re mixing your metaphors. That’s a black widow spider.” He caught sight of his head of security making his way toward him through the crowd. Even though Aaron Higgins had an inscrutable poker face, Mac instantly knew something was wrong.
When Aaron reached him, he leaned in close. “We just had a bomb threat from an untraceable phone.”
All the blood rushed to Mac’s head, and a pounding started at the base of his skull. “Fuck.”
“I’m not convinced it’s a serious threat, but there isn’t any evidence to prove otherwise. What do you want to do?”
His gaze assessed the room in slow motion. Dustin and Abbie were talking with Jill. Peggy was drinking a soda with Tanner. He didn’t hesitate. “We evacuate.”
Aaron nodded. “We’ll need to call in the authorities, but we can start clearing everyone out now.”
Mac’s eyes locked on to Peggy. “We already have one officer on the premises. Let me talk to her. Then I’ll make an announcement.”
He made his way over to her on rubbery legs. She separated from Tanner and Meredith at his signal and followed him over to a corner.
“You lost,” she commented without pre
amble. “Planning on tossing me out now?”
He leaned in. When she reached out a hand to shove him back, he grabbed it. “We just had a bomb threat and need to evacuate. I know you’re off duty, but I figured this changes things.”
Her head turned sharply. Their eyes locked. “When?”
“Minutes ago. Untraceable. My chief of security doesn’t think it’s serious, but I’m not taking any chances.”
She nodded crisply. “We need to get everyone out. Safely. Without panic.”
He took his cell phone as one of his security people handed it to him. They were banned from the table. “Right. Will you call it in?”
She reached into her purse, her mouth a hard line. “Yes.”
“I’ll have one of my officers show you to security. I need to make an announcement.”
“I can find it myself. You need to move.”
He nodded and walked away. Grabbed the microphone one of his guys handed him.
And prayed for the right words to come.
Chapter 19
Mac ran into the room just moments after making a carefully worded announcement over the loudspeakers. Peggy turned to look at him as he came in.
“What do we know?” he asked, unbuttoning his jacket.
His chief of security answered before Peggy could. “We’ve run the number. It’s from a burner phone. Untraceable. Marion in reception said the caller was male. The only thing he said before hanging up was ‘There’s a bomb in your hotel.’ The lack of specifics makes me think it’s not a serious threat.”
Mac tapped his chin. “The burner phone suggests some knowledge. I can’t risk the guests. We have to check everywhere.”
Peggy put her hands on her hips, needing to establish the pissing order. “That’s not your decision to make. It’s mine. You will check every floor. There’s not enough information for us to take this lightly.”
He cut her a glance as cold as the shaved ice sold on Main Street. “Glad we agree. Do you have a detection dog?”
“Yes, it’s on the way with the team,” she replied.
He studied the hotel blueprints, which were electronically displayed on the main security screen. “Good. We do too, mostly for drugs, but they’re cross–trained. Once your officers arrive, have one of them take your dog through. McHenry will take ours. You search by priority.”
She wasn’t being cut out of the search. “I’ll take the dog. The Emergency Response Team should be here shortly.”
He shook his head. “No. I want you here, feeding orders to your team, working with mine. I need your mind. Have someone else be the legs.”
She studied him, wondering if this was a ruse to keep her out of danger. Most men didn’t like putting women into sticky situations. But he was right. The sheriff was on vacation in Wyoming right now, so she was in charge.
“Fine. I want all the available information.”
“You’ll have it.”
She walked closer and leaned in. “I’m glad you’re not questioning my wherewithal to pursue this.”
“You might want my hotel shut down, but you wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt. I know you’ll do everything you can to enforce the law, Peg.”
The intensity of that stoplight green gaze took her breath away. She could feel adrenaline and lust coursing through her body.
“Thank you. I will. Now let’s move.”
“Aaron, you have the floor,” Mac said. “I’m going to keep the guests as calm and comfortable as possible in the Evacuation Zone.”
“Yes, sir,” the square–jawed head of security replied.
Although Aaron wore a tailored suit, she could tell he’d been a cop. He didn’t break stride, his eyes didn’t miss a beat, and his hands never trembled.
He introduced her to the rest of Maven’s security team. They had the kind of top–notch edge she’d admired when she’d done a few runs with SWAT. They were hard–nosed, direct, and they had more resources than her last three police departments combined. She decided not to show them who was boss. They were sharing everything with her, from video feeds to heat signatures in the hotel—all of it in real–time on mind–blowing devices featuring the newest technology. She introduced them to her officers when they rushed in with their detection dog.
A few of her guys gaped at her dress, but they wisely kept their lips zipped. She didn’t need anyone to point out how ridiculous she looked.
One of Aaron’s men brought in their team’s German Shepherd, so they prepared to start the search. Thankfully the hotel wasn’t enormous, but still…
She couldn’t help but be impressed after her brief scan of the hotel’s bomb prevention plan. The team had shown her which areas were the most porous in the hotel. There weren’t many. The sheer volume of surveillance cameras boggled the mind.
They split into groups—those searching and those feeding the search. Aaron knew his shit. Without any information about the hypothetical bomb and timer, they needed to move fast. He didn’t want to take the dogs from room to room, so he suggested starting with priority areas. After searching the mailroom, they checked the delivery entrance and the parking deck. All luggage went through X–ray machines in the bellboy station room, but they couldn’t account for packages guests bought in town. In ten minutes, his team had a list of all guests who’d walked into the hotel after shopping and their corresponding room numbers. They searched the shoppers’ hotel rooms.
And found nothing.
So they finished off the last rooms with a more cursory scan. Still nothing.
Her gut told her it was a hoax, but the idea of something detonating made her quiver.
She blocked out Keith and what could happen to her.
She didn’t need to think about that now.
Maven periodically radioed in for updates. “Don’t be alarmed,” he informed them on one such call. “We’re starting the fireworks earlier than expected to keep the guests entertained.”
At the first boom, her guts gripped, that damn fight–or–flight response causing her system to buck against her mental control. She heard laughter and applause over the hotel’s security feed and wondered what kind of magician Maven must be to elicit such reactions from the crowd during a bomb scare.
And then the crowd went wild. When Peggy looked up at the security feed, she watched as Rye Crenshaw took the mike from Mac on a raised platform. And then he started to sing. Even though she was totally focused on the search, his smooth baritone raised gooseflesh on her arms as he poured out a heartfelt version of “Proud to be an American.” And then he kept singing some of her favorites; his hit songs that played over and over again on her country music station.
The search took ninety minutes. They didn’t find anything.
Part of her wanted to kick something. The other part wanted to put her head between her knees.
She and Aaron agreed to give the all–clear. He handed her a cup of strong coffee. She gulped it down and tried to empty her mind.
Damn bomb threat. And in her small town.
Shit like this wasn’t supposed to happen here.
When Maven strolled into the security center, he slapped Aaron on the back and shook hands with his guys and the Emergency Response Team. He even gave the dogs a good rubdown, insisting that the chef would broil them T–bones.
Then he walked over to her, his steps quick, his whole body radiating power and determination. He could bend everything to his will. He could do anything, have anything.
He wanted her.
There was no mistaking the desire and concern in his eyes.
He put his hand on her arm, his thumb swiping the place where forearm met elbow. A punch of lust hit her in the gut. She wanted to throw him against the wall and have him. Now.
“You all right?”
Her voice wouldn’t work for a moment, paralyzed by the mere rub of his thumb in the shallow of her arm.
“Of course,” she finally replied, clearing her throat.
The right side of his mouth ti
pped up. He put his mouth close to her ear. His breath tickled her lobe. The woman inside her wanted to thrust her head back, urge his mouth to her neck.
“I’m glad. Thank you for taking care of my hotel.”
It was her job. She still hated his poker palace.
When he leaned back, he held her gaze, all smoke and fire and…that damned concern.
A lightheadedness permeated her skull, and she wove in place. His hand gripped her arm, still caressing her skin through the totally inappropriate summer dress she was wearing.
She yanked her arm free, aware of the interest from his security team and her fellow officers. “I’m fine. Glad it worked out. I’m heading out to finish up my report.” She stepped away. Dug her feet into her sandals as she headed outside, needing air—big fat doses of it.
He was interfering with job, which was a first. She’d never had a problem closing out her ex when they’d been on the force together.
This had to stop.
The fresh air was a balm to her head, making everything clear.
There was only one thing to do.
She had to sleep with him. Rip him out of her system.
There was no other way.
Chapter 20
Mac broke up his meeting early the next day when he heard the distinct ping from security on his hand–held. Deputy McBride was on the premises.
“Jill, we can go over the apology cards later today. Christ, after yesterday I’m going to be comping people hotel suites until the end of the world.” But comping Rye Crenshaw for stepping up and giving a free concert wasn’t enough of a payback. He’d have to think of something special to do for him.
“It’s so unfair! I still can’t believe someone would do that.”
Mac refrained from kicking his desk. “We should just be grateful there was no bomb.”
She put a hand on her belly. “Right. Shit. Oops. Do you know if I can still swear when they’re in there? You always know weird trivia like that.”
He snorted. “Yes, they can hear you. It’ll be a good long while before they parrot you though.”
She stacked the cards. “Whew! Good. I keep telling Brian we’ve got to clean up our mouths. Restaurant people have horrible potty mouths. I told him he’d have to go to potty training before the girls do.”
