Page 8 of One Big Little Secret

He nods at the guy in charge of the table, who spins the wheel once everyone’s bets are in.

The tension thickens as the ball slowly loses momentum, tripping over the numbers until it settles on a red eight.

My heart lunges up my throat.

Mr. Twelve nods approvingly like he’s not the least bit surprised.

“Knew there was a reason I felt lucky tonight, Lady Luck. Or should it be Lady Bug?” He nods at my dress.

I almost forgot it was peppered with small black dots.

“Thanks, dude. Is comparing me to a bug supposed to be flattering?”

“Ladybugs are good luck in some cultures. They’re also damn cute,” he says gruffly.

Despite everything, I blush.Again.

“So you think I’m cute? Very funny.” My inner loser shakes her head violently in disbelief.

He lowers his head so it’s right beside my ear. His breath brushes my hair, tickling the delicate skin.

“Show me one man at this table who isn’t staring,” he whispers.

“Stop. Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He raises his eyebrows at me and makes another bet.

Amazingly, he wins.

And wins.

And wins.

Doesn’t matter if I make the bet or he does, it just keeps coming.

We win several rounds and leave a lot of jaws hanging on the floor, at least for the people who don’t walk away in pure disgust. By the end of the game, he’s got a whole stack of chips.

“This calls for a victory drink, Lady Bug.” He takes my hand and pulls me back to the bar. “What’s your poison?”

“Oh God, I don’t know. I’ve had a lot of poison tonight, that’s for sure.” No joke. The world has devolved into random shapes and colors and him. “Whatever you’re having.”

He orders a neat whiskey that slips down as easily as melted butter, and before I can stop him, he’s pulling me onto the dance floor.

Oh, I’m a hot mess.

Putty in his hands.

And those big, warm hands are on my back now. My chest is pressed against his, and I’m gazing up at him like those blue eyes are offering me the secrets of the universe.

“I’m not a lucky person so this is really weird,” I whisper. “Like, it’s bad. I’m a human black cat.”

“You feel lucky to me.” He slides a hand down to my ass and squeezes. “And I can feel you pretty well.”

“Oh my God.”

Did I say that out loud?No, I moaned it instead.

I am so, so screwed.

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