Page 28 of Smooth Sailing
“Pass,” said Abigail.
“Pass,” Felix echoed, scanning the table.
Paloma hesitated for a fraction of a second before saying, “Pick it up,” to Felix, her tone steady. He noted how her fingers tapped lightly on the table, a subtle signal that she had a strategy in mind.
He grinned, scooping up the ten of spades. “Spades it is, then.”
His focusremained on Paloma as he led with the ace of spades. She played the nine of spades, and he noticed the slight tightening in her shoulders. She was taking a calculated risk, and he had to support it.
Abigail played the King of spades, and seeing no spades in his hand, Max discarded his nine of hearts. He caught Paloma’s gaze, and she gave a nearly imperceptible nod—a sign that they were still on the same page. Felix threw in the ten of hearts, clearly biding his time.
Abigail led the next trick with the Queen of spades. Paloma played low, clearly setting something up, and Felix took the trick with the Jack of spades. Anticipation built in Max, he nudged Paloma’s ankle under the table. She tapped back, a jolt of warmth spreading through him at the simple touch. It was all the confirmation he needed—they were in perfect sync, reading each other’s intentions without a word.
“Come on, babe,” Felix crowed. “One more, and we’ve got this.”
Abigail led with the ace of diamonds. Paloma played another low card, holding back, and Felix followed suit. Max didn’t hesitate; he confidently laid down his Queen of diamonds, taking the trick. Paloma’s gaze was on him, and he swore it was warm with approval.
It was his turn to lead. He looked at Paloma, searching her expression for a hint of what she might be holding. She met his eyes, her lips curving in a small, confident smile, and that was all he needed. He played his Jack of hearts—the left bower in a Spades hand.
Her beautiful face lit up as she laid down her ace of hearts, and a thrill ran through Max. Groans echoed around the table. “Last trick, Paloma,” he said, his voice low and sure. “Bring it home.”
Without hesitation, she played the Jack of spades—the right bower—sealing their victory. The room buzzed with the energy of their triumph, but Max was only aware of her smile, the way it matched his own.
“Yes!” he exclaimed, reaching across the table to high-five her. Their hands lingered, fingers brushing, thrill shot through him. He held her gaze, and the electricity between them was palpable—a shared spark of victory and something more unspoken.
Felix shook his head. “Unbelievable. How did you know she had the right bower, Max?”
He shrugged, still grinning at Paloma. “I didn’t know for sure. But something told me she had a plan, and it’d be a good one.”
The corner of Paloma’s mouth twitched—that telltale sign she was holding back a full-blown smile. The warmth from the bourbon made him a little looser and his grin a bit wider. His foot nudged hers under the table again. Her gaze met his, a glimmer of mischief dancing in her eyes.
“Pretty good, huh?” she said, her voice a little slower, leaning back in her chair as if she’d won a marathon instead of a card game. She stretched her arms overhead, the movement exaggerated, and let out a satisfied sigh. “I mean, I practically carried the team.”
He snorted, recognizing her playful jab for what it was. “Oh please,” he retorted, “I was the mastermind behind this operation.”
She quirked an eyebrow, a challenge clear in her expression. “Is that so? And here I thought I was partnered with a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. Or should I say, his cards on his face?”
Before he could fire back, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled for it, glancing at the screen through tipsy eyes. He caught the time and muttered, “Oh shit,” as he answered, with a slight slur, saying “Jamie, shit, sorry. I lost track of time.”
“It also sounds like you lost track of the drinks you’ve drunk,” his friend laughed.
“Yeah, I’ll definitely be getting an Uber to your place. I’ll call now.” He stood, and thankfully, the room only tilted instead of spinning.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll come get you. Front Street isn’t far from me.”
Max gasped. “How do you know where I am at?”
Jamie snorted. “You told me when you texted to tell me you’d be a little late. This was back when you were sober.”
“I’m sob—” He cut off that lie. “I’m buzzed, not drunk.”
“Whatever, man. I’ll be there in a few.” Jamie hung up, still laughing.
Maybe it was time for water. Max pulled up short. The woman who’d been standing next to Fence blocked his path.
“Bella?” Her name was a question along with why she was in his way.
“Isabella,” she corrected, her voice soft and playful. She rested her hand on his bicep, her touch lingering as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “I couldn’t help but notice your game earlier. You’ve got quite the intuition.”
