Page 4 of Playing for Keeps

“Well, you’ve already changed the plan,” I mutter, wondering why he ditched a perfectly awesome strategy.

Duke gives me a dark expression and says, “I met the man who is willing to marry you and be my VP.”

I consider what gossip I know about the Rawkfist club. Back at Pebbles Drunk Tank, Val told me how his brother would be president one day. Val planned to become the VP. His cousin, Ike, would remain an enforcer like his own brother, Otto. I try to remember what other members he mentioned or I’ve heard about over the years.

“Who?” I ask.

Duke rubs his stubbled jaw. “I don’t like him. I doubt I can go through with that part of the plan.”

“You made a deal,” I say and then step back. “Is he gross?”

“Yes.”

“Like mutant gross or like Timmy’s bizarre facial hair kind of gross?”

Duke refuses to smile at me despite his amusement over his club brother’s fetish for creating designs in his beard.

“He’s not physically gross.”

“Oh, thank God,” I exclaim, collapsing into an office chair. “Not to be shallow, but, you know, oh, thank God.”

“He’s a rude shithead.”

“Did he disrespect you?”

“Yes,” Duke mutters and adds, “He said some stuff about you, too.”

“Oh, like negative stuff?” I ask, wondering about those extra ten pounds.

“Inappropriate stuff.”

Narrowing my eyes, I ask, “What’s that code for?”

Duke exhales in that grumpy “I’m not cool with my daughter fucking” way he gets. “He said he was relieved he would be marrying you since he didn’t want to break in a woman.”

“And you were shocked to learn I wasn’t a virgin?” I ask in my most tender voice.

“I’ve caught you with your pants down, Lola.”

Grinning, I offer a shrug and admit, “My stealth moves needed honing in high school.”

Duke remains grouchy, muttering, “I don’t like this guy.”

“For a VP or as a son-in-law?”

“I think he’d be a good VP. Maybe. I don’t know. He’s Court’s nephew. He’s probably not a total waste.”

“Wait, who?”

“Emmett Mercer’s younger boy, Val.”

“No,” I hiss, digging my heels into the ground and shoving backward until the office chair hits the wall. “No, wait, is this good? No, it’s bad. Wait, I’m not sure.”

Duke loses his grumpy face and looks genuinely concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s the opposite of gross. But, um, I don’t know.”

“Do you know him?”

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