Page 65 of My Favorite Sin

The boys move on to the next stage of their game. Asanother round of betting takes place, I sip my drink, my gaze wandering out of the booth, admiring a lady wearing a dress of fringe tassels, the woman beside her with a fur wrap and?—

A man sitting in an armchair, glaring at Dan.

“Why is that man looking at you like that?” I ask.

All four brothers peer out of the booth to see who I’m talking about. The man is older, perhaps thirty. Tall and lanky and with a thick, dark, beard.

Felix laughs. “That’s Phillip Jones. He’s a regular here. The C.E.O. of a software company. He played poker with Dan earlier in the week and lost a million dollars.”

“That rumor is true?” I gasp.

Dan shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

Felix laughs again, twirling a poker chip between his fingers. “Man, Jones ispissedoff. How did Dad handle the rumor?”

“I don’t know,” Dan says. “I’ve got a bunch of missed calls from him. Don’t plan on returning them.”

Killian deals a card from the deck, and while he, Felix, and Tyler contemplate their next move, I speak quietly with Dan. “What do you plan to do with all this money you win?”

“Spend it on you,” he answers low enough for only me to hear, sliding his palm a little higher up my thigh.

My breath catches. I tell myself to concentrate. “Seriously. You have a few luxuries in life. A nice car. Expensive suits. But it’s not like you’re living an extravagant lifestyle, buying yachts and private jets.”

“I like the thrill of the game and the strategy involved. Money is a nice extra.”

“So, would it kill you to donate some of it? The money could go to a really good cause. You could help people whoare in dangerous living conditions like me and my mom used to be. There are loads of charities. Plus, it would get Mom and Josh off your back about the bad image your poker games bring to Forever Families.”

Dan’s jaw tenses with displeasure.

“What? I’m only saying how I feel,” I tell him.

“It’s not that. I hate picturing what your life with that bastard used to be like. And perhaps you’re right. When you pitch the donation idea like that, it does sound appealing.”

The music on stage fades to an end. “Ladies and gentleman,” a man speaks into the microphone with a saxophone strapped around his neck. “For this next song, we’re opening up the dance floor for a little swing dancing.”

Upbeat music resumes and people make their way to in front of the stage.

I bring my cocktail to my lips, gulping down the last of the sweet alcohol, feeling a pleasant dizziness and in the mood for some fun. “You want to dance?”

Dan laughs. “Neither of us know how to swing dance.”

“So? It will be fun.”

He shakes his head, still laughing. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Dan slides out of the booth, taking my hand and helping me to my feet.

“Bro,” Felix says before we walk off, and from the serious look in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice, I know he has something important to say. “I won’t push it, but Mom would be proud, you know.” Dan’s throat strains as he holds his brother’s gaze. “I have few memories of her, but I remember her pregnant with you, and she was so happy.”

Killian finishes his drink and adds on, “I wish you wouldn’t feel so guilty about what happened. None of us really remember her. Think of it this way—shit happens,but now Dad is happily in love with Amabella and we have Ally.”

Dan nods, pensive about Killian’s words. I’m not sure swing dancing is the best idea anymore. Before I can tell Dan it’s fine if he just wants to leave, someone bumps into me. I’m knocked forward, only managing to stay upright due to Dan steadying me.

“Oh, pardon me,” a man says. I look up, finding the man who was glaring at Dan moments ago. Phillip Jones, Felix called him. He smiles at me, yet there’s something sly within his eyes that leaves me unsettled. The guy also reeks of liquor, and I question whether he’s drunk. “Such a pretty little girlfriend you have here, Blackwood.”

“Watch the way you speak about her,” Dan warns.

“What, I can’t compliment your girl?”

---