Page 108 of Devious Kingpin
“We’ll all be there for the opening,” I told her playfully. “Just think of all the troublemakers like you and your friends stirring up trouble. I can’t wait to watch the four of you scold them.”
The dinner concluded without any disasters. No reminders of past wrongdoings or ghosts.
After our guests left, Juliette changed into a tiny pair of silk shorts and a matching tank top. She preferred to sleep in as little as possible. I preferred her sleeping naked and usually, by the time the sun came up in the morning, that’s exactly what she was, in my arms where she belonged, no less.
It was hard to keep my gaze away from her. She sat next to me, her bare legs folded and scrolling through her phone.
We moved into the small living room. It was her favorite room in the house. The signs of her were slowly overtaking the house. Her scrunchie in the key bowl. Lotion on the nightstand. Her ChapSticks. She seemed to have one in every room.
“Let’s play pool tonight,” she uttered out of the blue. I cocked my eyebrow at the unexpected announcement. “I need to work on my skills and you are an expert. Your brother said you won every pool game except for one. Who better to teach me?” My lips tugged up. She had an amazing memory and cataloged everything anyone ever told her. At least it seemed that way. “Unless you prefer I find another teach—”
I didn’t let her finish. “I’m the only one allowed to teach you anything,” I growled.
“So let’s play,” she remarked. “We have nothing better to do.”
“I certainly have better things in mind,” I said in a low voice. “I thought you said you don’t care for playing pool.”
She shrugged. “Correction, I don’t care for playing pool with others. You might be an exception.”
An amused breath left me, picturing Juliette reading rules on shooting pool.
“So, yes?” she asked, her eyes glimmering with hope.
“As if I could ever refuse you.”
She swung her legs and jumped to her feet, squealing in delight. She pressed a kiss to my mouth, grabbed my hand, then dragged me toward the other side of the house where the pool room was.
We entered the billiard lounge and Juliette’s eyes darted left, right, then back to the left.
“I really like this room,” she remarked. “Every time I step inside, I feel like I’m in a bar.”
“I know you’ve seen plenty of those,” I retorted, tapping her lightly on the ass. “After all, it was where I first spotted you.”
She gave me one of those carefree smiles and my heart skipped a beat. It only happened around my wife whenever she smiled or laughed.
“I didn’t see you,” she commented as she took the room in. There were four armchairs, a fully stocked minibar and of course, the professional pool table. The walls were decorated with movie posters in frames from movies that were filmed in the States.Scarface.The Untouchables.The Godfather.
“I meant to tell you when your brother was here. This decor is very original,” she said, her gaze lingering on the famous mobsters.
I grinned. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I can’t help but notice they are all Italian.” She sauntered through the room to the pool cue. “If I win against you, you have to put up a poster forGangs of New York.”
I barked out a laugh. “You got it, Wildling.”
She was a quick study. Twenty minutes of instruction later, a bit of practice, and she was ready. Not to beat me in a game of pool, but to at least play against me.
Juliette bent over the table, holding the pool stick, trying to hit the nine ball. Her tongue was wedged between her lips in concentration as her eyes narrowed on the ball. She missed the first one. It was my turn next. I sent the ball into the pocket.
She moved and I flicked a curious glance her way. “What? It’s my turn,” she remarked, then seeing my expression, she added hesitantly, “Right? The rules are kind of confusing.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her she wouldn’t get a turn until I missed getting the ball into the pocket. So I straightened up and let her take a turn.
She positioned herself again, bending over the table.
“Want me to help you?” I offered.
She threw me a glance over her shoulder. “You trying to make me lose?”
