Page 17 of Queen of Spades

Out of everyone I’ve met in my new life, Grady has proven himself time and time again.

My feet wrap around his back, pulling him to me as I lean in for a silent apology kiss.

I chopped off my nearly waist-length hair when I ran, but I didn’t have the heart to bleach my dark brown waves. To be fair, I would’ve looked ridiculous as a blonde. It tickles around my shoulders as I move.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a kiss, but I’ll take it.” Grady’s dimples pop as he bends low, pushing his mouth to mine.

My hands twine around his neck, wrapping in his long hair. His is actually a few inches longer than mine now, but when we first met, it was the same length. It bothered me at the time. Spending almost six years growing out my hair made it painful when I cut it off, but I think the new shorter style is more me.

Or maybe I’ve grown into my own over the last couple of years.

Our tongues clash as he palms the back of my head. I love the way he always makes me feel safe and protected, even if it’s as simple as him holding me to him.

He rakes his teeth over my lower lip as he pulls back, nuzzling his cheek to mine. “We’ve got to talk about it sometime. There’s barely three weeks left until our heat leave starts.”

“Somewhere around there,” I admit as my eyes fall shut.

“Here and now isn’t the time or place, but I’m in your bed tonight. We can talk about it then.”

My eyes pop open, and I nod, even though I don’t want to.

The law only guarantees time off for bonded alphas during their omega’s heat, but Jimmy and the other managers always go out of their way to schedule him time off for mine. It’s really considerate because they don’t have to, but the High Roller treats its employees well.

“I guess I better actually get to my job.” He chuckles. “But I want to hear all about what’s going down in Spades. It can be our pillow talk before we pass out.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I agree, yanking him closer with a hand in his shirt. We share one last extra dirty kiss that makes my heart race.

I lost a lot when I ran, but I did find one good thing.

Grady heads back to work, and I watch Mr. Forbes for an additional half hour.

He’s very good at flashing his cards so quickly that it’s impossible to pick them up.

The cameras in Spades are some of the highest quality I’ve ever seen.

I’ve never run into this problem before, but then again, I can usually mosey up to the table and pretend like I’m another guest.

This is going to take some creative thinking.

I make a quick call down to the bar in Spades, and it doesn’t take long for Dave to realize who he’s speaking with. He’s great at following instructions.

I hear the crash of the Macallan bottle.

“Jesus Christ, I’m going to need a replacement bottle sent over,” Dave says. “And maybe a cleaning crew.”

“I’ve got you covered, Dave. Give me five minutes. We’re swapping out. I’m guessing you’ll be able to call it an early night.”

“Understood.” He disconnects.

A quick call to the main bar ensures a tray with a replacement bottle is on its way to me. Once that’s done, I dig out my compact, apply a fresh coat of lipstick, and swipe on some mascara.

The toe of my heel catches in the bottom of my desk drawer, and I yank it open. Grabbing my equivalent of a petty cash box, I pull out ten grand in chips. It’s the minimum buy-in for the high-roller tables. I doubt I’ll need it, but if I do, it’ll be better to have it just in case. The box is looking a little empty. I’ll have to talk to Jimmy about that. I grab another forty grand in chips, close the box, and shove it back in the drawer before aiming for the VIP bar.

Glade meets me in the hall, handing off the tray.

I grunt.

Damn, I forgot how heavy these things are. She went above and beyond with glasses and a small ice bucket.

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