Page 54 of Lucky In Love

From this moment tonight, Gemma, her little puppy Noodle, how she talks about loving dance, is what matters to me. Giving that to her, letting her glow the way she is right now, for me. I turn my cards over, careless about how much cash I am losing. I said it earlier, and I meant it, now even more.

I would gladly lose a fortune, lose everything else if I could just have her.

“Tell me, what will make you walk away?” Concerned, she deals to the other player but never takes her eyes off me.

“Give me your number. I will call you, kitten. We’ll talk about trying to get me to walk away from you, then.”

Gemma hesitates before she flips over a card, scribbling a number across it. Sliding it across the table, she gives a small smile, and I quickly grab it, taking what is left of my chips. Winking at her, I do as I promised, and I walk away. Walking out with the groom in one piece, a little less cash than before, and that card with her number on it, I consider the night a success.

Getting that goddess’ number is a win regardless of what it costs.

Chapter Two

Gemma

Dating is not so different from gambling.

You put yourself out there much the way you toss your chips on the table. Take what I am giving. Maybe I will give more later. Might just cash out and take what I have before I lose it all. It does not differ from rolling the dice, hoping for that lucky number seven.

Dating a gambler is a bad idea. They are always on the take, always looking for the next score, and almost always bad, troubled men. Still, I gave my number to a gambler at Cutter’s because something about him made me want to take a chance. Something about him threw me off my center, so I want to explore it more.

Gideon was handsome, charming, and terrible at blackjack. I figured that was a redeeming feature. No serious gambler would play that way. Giving him my number was easier than waiting for him to call or not call. No sooner have I convinced myself I will not hear from, and I do.

“Good morning, Gemma. It is Gideon. I thought I ought to wait a respectable time before reaching out. Don’t want to seem overeager. Do you have plans today?”

Trying to ignore the leap of joy that hits me, I respond. “No plans. Am I to assume you were not eager at all, then?”

“Oh no, don’t get that wrong. If I had my way, I would not have left there without you on my arm.”

Laughing aloud at how thick he is laying it on, I consider telling him to get lost. It has been a long time since I gave a guy a shot. If you get burned enough, you stop walking into the fire. Something about Gideon makes me wonder if I could dance in the flames without a lick of damage.

That night was supposed to be my last night at Cutter’s. I took the gig because I have debts to pay. It is good money, even if being associated with Cutter’s is dangerous. I am good at what I do there, good at reading the clientele. Living in the Windy City means being able to handle anything that blows in.

Not sure I am prepared for this headwind.

“Go out with me tonight. I want to see you again.”

“What time. Where? Why?”

“I will pick you up at six. The where is a surprise. The why is obvious, kitten—I am totally taken by you.”

Flushing at the reminder of how we had flirted that night, I nod my head. There was something in the air between us as he played several terrible hands of blackjack. We were talking far more than we were playing blackjack. I want to see him again too; he is all I have been able to think about since we met.

“Yes. Come at six,” I agree, racing to shower so I can get dolled up.

Twenty minutes before six, I am second-guessing it. Spinning in the mirror in my red wrap dress and cute nude pumps, I look ready, but I am not even close. Why did I give a stranger at Cutter’s my number? Now I gave him my address. What the hell am I thinking? I am about to cancel despite my total shower, updo, and glam routine I did to get ready for him. Then a knock sounds at the door.

“Oh shit! No. I am not ready,” I whisper as my heart thunders in my chest.

Going to the door, I slowly open it to find a gorgeous Gideon waiting in dark jeans and a flannel. His dark hair is combed back, but a lock falls into his eyes. I want to reach out to brush it back from his forehead. A day’s growth of beard dusts his jaw, making me wonder how the coarse skin would feel between my thighs.

“Hey, Gemma. Wow…you look amazing.” He greets with a big smile, holding out a bouquet of bright orange dahlias. “For you.”

Taking them, I inhale their sweetness. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

Reaching for my hand, he leads me out to the Jeep waiting at the curb. Once we are settled in, he reaches for my hand again, and it feels so natural for me to let him lace our fingers tight. On our way to wherever he is taking me, we talk a little about how much he lost at Cutter’s, and he teases he thinks the house cheated him. Talking, laughing, just being with him comes easier than it ever has with anyone before.

Our destination turns out to be a cozy little cafe tucked away on a quiet street. It almost feels as if the place is our secret, with fairy lights strung across the ceiling and mismatched vintage furniture creating a whimsical atmosphere. It is adorable and a perfect place for a first date. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked treats fills the air, making my mouth water.

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