Page 30 of Redemption

“Don’t tell her,” Cowboy crows from across the table, his eyes shifting from mine to hers. “You just keep it going, Sloane.”

At my nod, she rolls again, hitting a four. I put chips from both of our piles on six, eight, and nine, rubbing her back as I briefly tell her we’ll get paid out if she hits one of them.

Sloane rolls a five, getting a collective cheer from those who had put money on that number.

“Okay, your turn?” she asks me, looking hopeful.

“Nope, it’s still you,” Roman informs her, collecting his chips from the bet he had placed. “Just keep making us money!”

Her consecutive rolls do make money for everyone, to the point we’re all getting nervous about how long this will keep going. Then she finally hits four again, and the table goes wild.

“Okay, that’s not so bad,” she says, looking pleased with the pile of chips in front of us.

“It’s still your turn, babe,” I tell her, and the highly disappointed look on her face gets a laugh from everyone.

“Come on, Sloane,” Ford encourages her from across the table and I look up to see Grace tucked against his side, her eyes glued to the table directly in front of her. Surprise flows through me at how disengaged she is from everything happening around her.

Ford and I exchange a look, and I know we’ll be having a conversation at some point this weekend. Thinking back to Sloane’s earlier question, while knowing it’s none of my fucking business, I’m certain that if he thought enough of Grace to bring her along, he’ll take good care of her.

Sloane’s streak continues—much to her chagrin—and between our cheers and the energy our table emits, others crowd around us. Vying for a spot, until they realize that we’re all here together and have zero interest in outsiders joining us.

Forty minutes after Sloane first picks up the dice, she rolls a seven when the table’s on and practically sighs in relief.

“My arm hurts,” she moans, using her left hand to massage her right shoulder.

Roman and I share a look over her head, knowing she hasn’t realized that we’re all up about a couple thousand bucks each.

“What now?” she asks, looking around.

“Now I roll,” I tell her. Except, with the pressure off of Sloane, I start to explain the concept of the game to her.

As Sloane tries her hand at some of the extra bets, I chat with the Saint’s Outlaws beside me as the stickman patiently helps her place her chips. Honestly, I wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing, so just as I was about to pat myself on the back for a moderately successful turn with the dice, the table explodes.

My jaw drops when I realize that both Sloane and Ford were the big winners, pulling in five grand each. The way Roman jumped up and down, I thought one of his bets had hit.

“Shit, Ford, I couldn’t figure out your play with that,” Cowboy says, shaking his head in shock.

“The golden arm over there bet it, so I figured I’d follow her lead,” Ford responds, pointing at Sloane.

“You made a fire bet?” I ask her, more than a little surprised.

Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush as she’s forced to explain her reasoning. “There were a lot of blue chips in front of me, so I used those. Honestly, I was nervous and just kind of made panic bets.”

Her admission draws a round of laughter and promises to follow her lead in the future.

Personally, I’m exhausted and when I see Sloane trying to hide a yawn, I decide to call it a night once her chips are placed in front of her. Right after Roman gives her a bear hug, I step back, forcing the observers to move so the other guys get a chance to praise her for getting her craps cherry popped.

While I can tell that Sloane’s a bit overwhelmed by the attention, I can’t think of a better way for my friends to meet her. It’s obvious that they’re all intrigued by her, but it’s when we make it to Ford and Grace that she and I seem to switch roles.

After I clap Ford on the back, furiously trying to think of something to say, Sloane easily fills the silence.

“I don’t ever want to play craps again,” she conspiratorially says as she leans toward Ford and Grace. “Besides my arm cramping up, how could I ever top this? My brothers will never believe me as it is.”

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Ford smoothly replies, keeping one arm around Grace even as he indicates the tray of chips in front of him. “I wouldn’t mind another windfall like this.”

“It’s good to see you. Both of you,” I awkwardly offer, furiously trying to understand why Grace won’t meet anyone’s eyes. “Sloane worked all day, so I’m going to get her tucked in.”

“Hey, we’re talking about getting a nightcap out by the pool, if you want to join us?” Demo asks us.

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