Page 25 of Until It Was Real

Eli claps me on the back. “You are never going to win this argument.”

Don’t I know it. “Let’s play some poker.”

We follow Eli down the hallway to his game room. I don’t envy my oldest brother his wealth. He can have the fancy mansion with the indoor pool and eleven guest rooms. But this room? This room I’d fight my brothers for.

The walls are paneled and painted a deep green color. Along one wall is a bar and – because this is my billionaire brother – it’s stocked with every high-end whiskey you can imagine, including our ownBuccaneer’s Whiskey.The opposite side of the room has two leather couches. Naturally, there’s a large television to watch the game on. In the middle of the room are the games – a poker table big enough to seat six and a pool table.

Eli aims for the bar. “What does everyone want to drink?Blackbeard’s Reserve?”

“I wantSiren’s Call,” Zane says.

Jaxon purses his lips. “Do not drink too much. It’s stronger than rum.”

Zane moans. “Will everyone stop referring to the time I drank too much rum? Every one of you has had too much to drink at one time or another.”

Miles snorts. “But we didn’t make the entire house smell of coconuts after we threw up Malibu Rum for two days straight.”

“Cursed Treasureit is.” Eli sets a bottle of whiskey down on the poker table.

“A whiskey so good, it might have a ghostly secret. Not a bad slogan if I do say so myself.” Zane feigns polishing his fingers on his shirt.

Miles rolls his eyes. “Yea. Yea. Yea. You’re the marketing genius behind the brand.”

“It’s good you recognize I’m a genius.”

Miles raises his hand but I shackle his wrist. “No hitting at the poker table.”

“You’re boring.” Miles yanks his hand away and reaches for a glass of whiskey.

Eli holds his glass up. “Here’s to the bootleggers. Masters of sneaky sips and secret stashes.”

“Thanks for keeping the party alive,” we finish the Smuggler’s Hideaway toast in unison.

I barely stop myself from grimacing as fire burns through my esophagus. Despite owning a distillery, I’m not much of a drinker.

Jaxon sets his Chia Pet on the table. “If we’re ready to begin.”

“It’s not time for your ‘Elvis’ to lose quite yet,” Kai says.

“What’s with the air quotes? My Chia Pet clearly resembles Elvis. I won the contest.”

Miles chuckles. “Did anyone else enter the contest?”

“What is the losing prize for today?” Eli asks before Jaxon and Miles can get into another argument about the Chia Pet. It’s a monthly recurrence. And one all of us are sick to death of listening to.

“I have t-shirts picked out for the loser,” Kai says.

“Don’t you mean t-shirt?” I ask. “There can only be one loser.”

Kai smirks. “But each t-shirt is different depending on who the loser is.” He points to me. “For Mr. High and Mighty, I have a t-shirt which says ‘Dakota, will you marry me?’”

I growl. I will not be marrying the secret keeper. No matter how much my cock perks up at the idea of having access to her every day. It’s not happening.

“For Eli, the t-shirt says, ‘I’m wealthy and I know it.’”

Eli scowls. “I will never wear a t-shirt proclaiming I’m wealthy.”

Kai rubs his hands together. “You will if you lose at poker.”

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