Page 276 of Bossy Hero

Bigsby puffs his lips aggressively around the tip of his cigar as he lights it and throws a look my way. “I hope the smoke doesn’t get you in trouble with that lovely wife of yours.”

Smirking, I shuffle the deck of cards. “Last time, she didn’t give me any banana bread for an entire week. I’ll probably strip down in the garage before I go in the house tonight to get rid of the stench.”

A plume of smoke billows around his face. It’s so thick that it nearly blocks his shit-eating grin. “Get her to shower with you when you get home.” He bats away the smoke, revealing his waggling brows.

I shake my head. “Should I deal, or are we gonna wait for Andrews?”

His friend from the Bureau joined our little poker group a few months ago. Nice enough guy. But his tardiness tonight is pissing me off. I might be retired, but I still respect the clock.

Bigsby sets his cigar down in the ashtray and grabs the bottle of bourbon, topping off my glass. “He texted a few minutes ago. They got hung up on a case but should be here any moment.”

On my right, Yuri sets down his glass of vodka and raises a bushy brow at his friend. “They?”

Bigsby answers, “Andrews is bringing his new partner. Apparently, the kid has a stick up his ass.”

Yuri chuckles darkly. “And this is who he bring tonight? Does he expect us to remove stick? I do not have... how you say? Lube.”

Everyone chuckles.

I glance over my shoulder at the pool. “If the stick is firmly implanted, we could always toss him in for a swim. That might help with the extraction.”

More laughter.

Almost on cue, the doorbell rings. From inside the house, Katia hollers, “I’ll get it,papochka.”

A giant smile splays across Bigs’ entire face. “Thank you, darling.”

Since she and the baby live here, he’s banished from the house when he smokes. So he permanently moved his poker table out to the screened-in back patio. He likes to bitch about it, but we all know he’s happy to have her back in his life and would do anything for his family.

Relatable.

I take a look through the sliding glass door to see Andrews sauntering through the house toward the back patio. A familiar face follows a few steps behind him.

What the fuck ishedoing here? Can’t I have one night a month without my Redleg kids interfering? Is that too much to ask? And where the hell is Andrews’ new partner?

I toss the deck of cards on the table and stand. My hands automatically go to my hips so I look as ticked off as I feel.

When Andrews steps onto the back deck, he opens his palm toward the shit-disturber. “Gents, this is my partner, Reed.”

I wave him off and interrupt, addressing the Redleg court jester, who is definitely not named Reed. “Don’t you have twins to look after?”

Sawyer’s head kicks back, and he acts affronted. “Excuse me?” He looks over his shoulder as if I’m talking to someone else.

My head slants to the side. “If you wanted to play poker, you could have asked. And by the way, as far as practical jokes go, this isn’t your best work.”

Andrews quirks his brows and opens his palms, his gaze bouncing between me and Sawyer. “Do you two know each other?”

“Drop the act, Andrews.” I lower to my chair and roll my eyes. “We all know he’s not your partner. Not sure how he got you embroiled in his fuckery, but the jig is up.”

Sawyer steps forward, a hint of cockiness in his gait. “I’m sorry. I’m a little confused about what’s happening here. Andrews didn’t think it would be a problem for me to join the game. If I’m not welcome, I won’t stay. No skin off my ass.”

His voice is gruffer than usual. And it isn’t one of his accents or impressions. At least, not one I’ve ever heard.

Andrews sweeps his gaze around the table. “What the fuck is happening?”

I look from Bigsby to Yuri for a reaction. While the other guys in our group don’t know Sawyer, those two do. Surely, I’m not the only one who sees this. I’m still unsure what the joke is, though. Is he simply gaslighting me for the sake of it? Has fatherhood destroyed his ability to prank properly?

Yuri raises his tumbler of vodka, extending one finger at Sawyer. “You are friend of Shepherd. Yes?”

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