Page 10 of Spades

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“Yeah, looked like it.” Emory gripped either end of the counter and hoisted himself atop it. “Seemed like you guys had chemistry.”

I shrugged. Maybe. She was smart, and I liked that. I liked that she focused on the game and not on smooth talking the other guys into fumbling and fucking up. Seduction was a great tool and all, but I liked that she hadn’t needed to use it. She relied solely on her skill and her mind to take every trick.

“She’s pretty too.” Emory shot me a grin, raising and lowering his brows.

“She’s gorgeous,” I murmured, watching as she nibbled her thick bottom lip in thought. She did that a lot throughout the game. Squinted her sparkly blue eyes, chewed her lip, and strummed her fingertips against her thigh.

“You should go for it,” Emory said. “When’s the last time you got laid anyway?”

I glowered his way. “When’s the last timeyougot laid?”

“Last night, actually.” His smile widened. “Gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you his name. But the things he did with his tongue, I’ll never forget.”

I laughed and leaned against the bar. “Explains your good mood.”

“Exactly why you should go for it,” he said. “Seriously, when was the last time?”

Two months, maybe? Something like that. “None of your business.”

“You just said she was—”

“How much do I owe you?” Brooke’s annoyed tone bounced to my ears, and I spun around.

As she dug in her purse, I slid her refill across the counter. “Don’t worry about it.”

She exhaled slowly, glancing down at the cup. “What’s in there?”

Did she just ask if I spiked her drink? I wasn’t sure, but considering I’d offered to rip Tommy’s arm off for grabbing her ass, I was a bit offended. “Just your Pepsi.”

She plopped down in the barstool. “Could you get me a cranberry vodka instead?”

Ah, not an accusation then. “Sure.” As I poured, I glanced at Tommy walking out the front door with Eric. “No leads, I take it?”

“Unfortunately,” she muttered. “Light on the vodka, please. Like, barely there. Just a little tiny bit.”

I grabbed the bottle of Grey Goose and a shot glass from the shelf behind me. I flipped the bottle over for half a second, splashing no more than a teaspoon into the glass.

Shooting her a smirk, I said, “That good?”

A smile lifted her lips too. “A little bit more.”

Another tiny splash. “How about that?”

She laughed, and I gave a smile, filling the shot three quarters of the way. I lifted it up, eyeing it and glancing at her. “What about now?”

“Exactly what I meant.” Brooke smiled a bit wider.

I dumped it into a cup of ice and poured some juice and seltzer on top. Tugging my smile down, I said, “He didn’t remember her?”

“Oh, no, he remembered.” Her nose curled in disgust as I slid the drink her way. “Remembered in grave detail. But he dropped her off back here afterward, and he didn’t see her afterward.”

“He brought her here? At what time?”

“They left his place at 4:15,” she said.

Misty hadn’t come back in after she walked out with Tommy. “We close at three. If he dropped her off here, someone had to have picked her up.”

Brooke took a sip from her glass, set it back down, and rubbed her forehead. She stared down at the drink for a moment, spinning the little black straw through it a few times. Her eyes came back to mine. “Do you know the neighbors?”


Tags: Charlie Nottingham Fantasy