Page 69 of Trick's Trap

Patrick held up a hand. “We’ll get him, too. If it’s not Interpol, then the FCC will bring the hammer down. Trust me. But your gambling winnings won’t make a difference.”

She pressed the pamphlet Peyton helped her create to her chest. “Then I should put some of them toward our wedding expenses…”

“Liam won’t take a dime from you, and you know it. And don’t bother suggesting saving it for our children’s college fund. That’s done, too,” he added with a wink.

She stood up straighter, holding the pamphlet with both hands. “All right then. I’m ready to do this.”

‘This’ was a special education program run out of select women’s shelters.

Despite her recent good fortune, Tahlia’s experiences living at the fringes of society stayed with her. Patrick and his family were her inspiration. She admired everything the Tylers did to help women in trouble. She wanted to do her part, too.

To that end, she approached Maggie and Peyton for some help fleshing out an idea she’d first had while staying in a shelter in New York.

Tahlia was going to use her winnings to fund a vocational boot camp out of local shelters and hotels. In addition to providing beds for their guests and whatever children they had, the program was a crash course in math and computers. Participants would be trained in different vocational software. If they completed the course, they would receive a special certificate they could present to future employers. After the pilot program, she and Maia were going to work on getting the program official state certification.

If I can let go of my cash.

“I’m sorry I’m still hesitating. It’s just that I get nervous. I’ve been seeing my winnings as sort of a shield against my family—even though I know it’s nonsense. Money isn’t going to stop them.”

Trick pulled her close to his side. “We are going to put an end to all of this, but not with your poker winnings. There will be plenty more of that by the way, believe me. You’re too good not to be a high roller.”

He took the pamphlet from her hands. “Let’s move on this now. You and Peyton are having so much fun designing the curriculum.”

Tahlia let her head fall against his chest. “I feel guilty about that. I should be helping more with the wedding preparations.”

He shook his head. “Only if you want. Maggie and I have that covered.”

She pursed her lips. “Why don’t you want me to help? Are you afraid I’ll turn into a bridezilla or something?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d declined her help.

“No, that’s not it. I’m afraid you’ll see all the wedding fripperies and get cold feet.”

He showed his teeth in something that only loosely resembled a smile.

Tahlia nudged him with her hip, making him lose his balance. He landed on the couch. She climbed on his lap before he was able to recover. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He gave her a mock exasperated look as if to sayfinallybefore bending his head to kiss her. Unfortunately, he cut their make-out session short a few minutes later with a groan.

“I hate to go, but I have a conference call.” Patrick gently set her aside next to him. He stood, straightening his jacket and tie.

“Is it a video conference call?”

He nodded. “It’s better if we can see the faces we’re all making at each other,” he joked. “Reading people’s reactions helps with negotiations, but in this case, the Sydney group opted for it.”

She hopped up, tweaking his tie. “Those Aussie surfer babes just want to check you out. I can’t say I blame them. But you’re officially off the market, mister.”

A corner of his mouth turned up. “This conference is all men.”

Waving that away, she sat back down with her pamphlet. “My comment stands. Go do your call. I should get my notes on this to Peyton. We’re supposed to go over the second draft this afternoon.”

He grinned and stole a long kiss before waving goodbye. No sooner did the door click behind him than she began to miss him.

I’m hopeless.But she was smiling when she thought it. And who could blame her for being preoccupied with her drop-dead gorgeous fiancé? Anyone who’d caught a glimpse of his ass in those fitted suit pants would be obsessed.

It is a perfect ass. Sublime and completely bite-able. Once or twice, she had taken a nip…

Back to work, she scolded herself. Grabbing a pen, she started jotting notes in the margins of her papers. Half the pages were covered when she finally remembered to check when Peyton was free.

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