Page 10 of Texas Hold Em'
I stood, too. Jackson and I moved off the deck and into the house, where we approached the front door with caution. Whoever was on the other side knocked again, and through the crystal cut-out in the door, we saw them plant their hands on their hips and shift their weight.
It definitely wasn’t Bates. This person was small. Tiny, even.
Jackson looked through the peephole and growled. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
He wrenched the door open.
There, standing on the welcome mat with a cheesy smile, was Carrie.
“Gentlemen,” she said cheerfully. “I thought I might find you here. Smells good. Did someone cook up a feast?”
Jackson shared an exasperated look with me while he held the door ajar. “What are you doing here, Hart?”
She shrugged and looked down the street as if she’d just happened upon the house. “I was twiddling my thumbs at Tex’s house and feeling lonesome. And forgotten about. So I thought I’d come track you boys down. Got room for one more in there?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
Jackson scowled at her. “You’re supposed to be lying low.”
“Then you better let me in before someone sees me.” She laughedand gestured down at herself. “Besides, who’s going to recognize me? Come on, Black Jack. I didn’t think the Devils would be so tightly wound. Besides, where do you think is a safer place for me to be? Here with all of you, or alone in Tex’s apartment?”
My eyes roamed over her. She definitely didn’t look like a Ranger. She’d left her long blonde hair down and wore a pair of tightfitting black jeans and a denim jacket over a white crop top. No hat, no uniform, no badge, no boots, no gun.
Carrie sniffed at the air. “Are those ribs I’m smelling?”
Jackson sighed and opened the door the rest of the way. “Come in, then. But don’t get it in your head that this is going to be a regular thing.”
She grinned as she stepped past him. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”
Jackson led her out to the back porch and I followed close behind, unable or unwilling to take my eyes off her ass in those jeans as her hips moved from side to side with every step. We joined the others out on the back deck, and I stood behind Carrie as every pair of male eyes slid in her direction.
She wiggled her fingers in a flirty wave. “Boys. Long time no see.”
Sam got quickly to her feet and offered Carrie a beer. In less than a minute, she had a drink in one hand and a plate of ribs in the other, and Gabriel and Abel were making room for her to sit between them.
“Thank you,” Carrie said before biting into one of her ribs with perfect white teeth. Barbecue sauce stained her bottom lip, but it somehow didn’t look sloppy, and it didn’t seem to embarrass her. It didn’t make her any less sexy, either.
She devoured the ribs, licked her fingers clean, and washed it all down with a sip of beer. Abel drooled into his lap beside her, and something like jealousy growled in my chest.
“Is this what you guys usually do on a Sunday night?” she asked. “I must say, it’s a lot more tame than what I expected.”
Jackson leaned back in his chair. “And what did you expect?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she mused, “using empty beer cans as target practice, doing lines of cocaine, tattooing each other with stick and pokes.”
I snorted.
Abel got comfortable beside her and draped an arm over the back of the sectional. “I could show you a stick and poke if you want.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Ignore him, Carrie.”
Carrie giggled. “I’m a Ranger, not a prude. It’s all good.”
Knox nudged me with his shoulder. “Who knew she was hiding all that under her uniform?”
I grunted. Who knew?
Me. I knew.
