Page 47 of In Spades

With a laugh, I pocketed my phone. I didn’t have a life. I worked all the time to stave off boredom. When was I free? All the damn time.

I shrugged. “Whenever.”

Hannah tapped her manicured nails against the bar and grinned. “Perfect.”

11

KRISTIN

God bless poker night. The kids’ emotions had been all over the damn place for the last week, and I needed a reprieve.

The weekend had been hell. The inn was booked to capacity as tourists soaked up the last of the summer heat. The warm temperatures would last until October, but the nights were chilly, and currents were bringing in colder water from the Atlantic.

I loved the change of seasons in North Carolina—especially living on the coast. Our beaches didn’t look like those on palm tree and conch shell postcards. Instead, mangrove trees mixed with pines and oaks kept watch over our coastline. We could dig our toes in the warm sand and enjoy the vivid oranges and reds as the leaves changed.

The leaves wouldn’t change for almost another month and a half, but a girl could still get excited.

Call me basic, but I loved autumn. The North Carolina State Fair took place every October in Raleigh and going to it was a family tradition.

Even though I couldn’t buy the kids a lot of gifts for holidays, I did pinch pennies throughout the year so we could afford the fair. We would go on Can Day, bringing non-perishables that would be donated to charities in exchange for free entry to the fair.

On the fridge at home, we kept a countdown marking off the days until fair day. It was right around the corner, I could almost taste the massive smoked turkey legs and cobs of roasted corn slathered in butter.

The start of the week reminded me that Will would be checking out on Friday.

I missed seeing him today since I had the day off. Part of why I’d scheduled so much overtime lately had been to see him more often. But I was still human and needed time to recuperate.

Will texted me around lunchtime and asked if I was okay. Apparently, having another housekeeper checking on his room had been a cause for concern.

I tried to ignore the butterflies that stirred up. It disappointed me a little bit when he didn’t mention our hypothetical date like he usually did.

He probably decided I was too much trouble.

I didn’t play hard to get to be cruel. I just didn’t want to give him the impression this thing between us could go anywhere. We had a fun flirtationship and nothing more.

The room hummed with conversation as poker night got into full swing. Everyone had a drink in hand and something to eat.

We kept things casual with cheap pizza and disposable plates. Luca complained about it every single week. Apparently five dollar hot-and-ready pizzas didn’t compare to his boujee homemade version.

I was simply happy that I didn’t have to cook one night out of the week.

I didn’t bother getting a babysitter for poker nights. Logan and Kylie were old enough to hold down the fort for a few hours, and both had phones in case of an emergency. I never stayed out too late or too long.

Girls’ night was a different story. When I knew I would be tipsy, I made sure the kids had proper adult supervision.

Luca’s big, tattooed arm appeared in front of me. In his hand was a glass filled with something light pink and fruity. He offered it to me.

Ever since I stopped fangirling and had an actual conversation with him, Luca and I had sort of become pals. I looked at him like the big brother I never had. Apparently, my penchant for drinking three-dollar wine repulsed him. So, he had made it his mission to craft a cocktail that I loved.

I plucked the glass out of his hand and examined it. “What am I drinking tonight, DeRossi?”

Luca crossed his arms over his chest. “A watermelon cosmopolitan, extra lime, and a maraschino for some flair.”

I eyed his masterpiece. “I will admit, she’s a beautiful drink. I’m sorry that I’m going to down it in a quarter of the time it took you to make it.”

He started slaving away on the drink the moment I arrived at his and Maddie’s house, claiming it was going to be the winner.

“Bottom’s up, cupcake.” He grinned. “Tell me what you think.”

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