Page 19 of Tangled Hearts

“Are you shitting me?”

“Nope.” She pops the P. "He's scheduled to appear before the judge for bail in an hour, and your ass gotta be there." Of course I do.

"Send me what you have so I can review it on the way over," I tell her before ending the call. I need to get moving because I have to change. I’m so over Morris. I dread what I’m going to find, and I dread more if the media has gotten ahold of this.

I head back into the living room but stop short in the doorway when I hear Dylan and his mom talking.

“You better marry that girl quickly. She’s the one. But you already know that.”

“Mom, it’s—” Dylan cuts off when he sees me standing there.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Work emergency,” I tell them both. “It was wonderful to meet you,” I tell Rebecca.

“We have to do dinner.” I nod, my mind wondering what Dylan was about to say when I should be thinking about dumbass Morris.

“I’ll take you.”

“No, stay, really.” I kiss his cheek before I rush out the door.

Chapter Fifteen

DYLAN

Kaden has the chips out, and Brooks is shuffling the cards when I arrive. Graham’s seat is empty.

“Glad to know I’m not the last one.” I set the bottle of whiskey on the green felt. “A client gave me this yesterday, and if you all lose your money to me, you can have a couple of fingers of whiskey to console yourself.”

Kaden holds two fingers, long and slender, against the edge of his glass. “Are we using my fingers or yours?”

“However much you need, QB. I like that you’re mentally preparing yourself to lose to me.” I uncork the thirty-five-year-old Dalmore whiskey and let it breathe. Brooks leans over and takes a whiff.

“Smells rich.” He nods approvingly. “You enjoy your dinner the other night?”

“Is there any other answer than yes?” I pour a generous amount in four glasses and hand them out.

“Not if you want to live.” He lays the stack of cards aside. “What did your date think? Did she have any complaints?”

“None. She loved everything.”

“Right. Of course. What other answer could there be? The Plate is the best.” Brooks sits back with a satisfied expression which lasts all of a second before he turns to Kaden. “For Tuesday, I need to know if your date has any food allergies. You said you would text them to me, but I haven’t seen anything from your side.”

I tilt my head. “Date?”

Kaden busies himself with the poker chips, rearranging a few stacks before admitting, “Date’s off.”

“What’d you do?” I ask.

“Why is it my fault?” Kaden scowls.

“Was it hers?”

There’s a beat of silence and then, “No,” Kaden admits. He knocks over a tower of red chips he just created. “She’s a Wolves’ fan.”

“There’s a pro team called the Wolves?” I thought I paid close attention to the Pro Football League.

“It’s our college rival,” Kaden says. “I was a State Raider, and she’s a University Wolf.”

“Unless she’s dressing up in the blue and gold of the team in bed, what does it matter?” Brooks wonders.

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