Page 40 of Bought and Broken

He looks at me over his shoulder, shooting a smile that has me breathless.

Screw him for being so handsome.

“It’s a surprise.”

I force myself to nod and bring my attention to my hands that are in my lap.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Fine.”

“Come on, Devon. I’m not an idiot. I know what that means.”

I smile, biting on my bottom lip. I look up and see him facing me. My eyes so badly want to roam over the dips of his abs—since he’s still shirtless—but I force them to stay on his eyes.

“Really, I’m fine. Thank you for helping.”

He nods again, just like he did the last time I thanked him, and I don’t know why that bothers me. He’s acknowledging my thanks—what more do I want?

“Dinner won’t be done for about an hour,” he says.

“Well,” I start, looking around. “What is there to do in this place?”

“You can run on the treadmill.”

“Are you nuts? I can hardly walk.”

“Lift weights?”

“Yuck.”

He chuckles, running his hand through his hair and smiling that devilishly handsome smile that makes me weak.

“Oh, I have an idea,” he says.

He goes to the far end of the sitting area and opens a drawer that’s built into the wall. Above it are shelves, all of them empty. As he’s digging through the drawer, I look around the place again. There are no personal items here. No decorations to make this place homey. No family photos. He said he doesn’t come here often, but does he have nothing he wants to remember when he comes here? No pictures, no mementos… nothing?

His footsteps pull me from my thoughts, and I see him walking toward me with a deck of cards in his hand.

“I am not playing strip poker with you.”

“You played strip poker with James Lefray in high school.”

“Are you jealous about that?” I cant my head to the side, smirking.

“What if I am?” he challenges.

I snatch the cards from his hand and pull them from the box.

“Had you stuck around, you’d have known I kicked his ass. And I’m about to do the same to you.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Tatum

Oh, how right she was.

Devon has been kicking my ass in poker for the last hour, and it’s embarrassing. I’m grateful there is no one here to witness this, though I’m sure that won’t stop her from throwing it in my face for the rest of our lives. There’s a proud smile glued to her face, which is another reminder that I’m losing.

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