Page 9 of Poker

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I grin. “You said that already.”

“It’s not terrible,” he admits. “And if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll spank your ass.”

Heat pools between my thighs, and I rub them together to ease the ache. “Like I’d let you anywhere near my ass.”

He arches a brow. “You wo?—”

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“Yo, Meri, you’ve got a delivery.”

The moment between Poker and me is ruined by Lance’s statement. I was so caught up in the flirtatious exchange that I missed him returning behind the bar.

“What?” I ask.

Lance nods to his right, and that’s when I see a man standing with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

“Are you M. Green?” the man asks.

I bristle at the use of Green as my surname. Only those who participate in my games know that name, but none of them know anything about my personal life, my real life.

“I thought your last name was Burns,” Lance comments, his forehead creased.

“Green’s my middle name,” I blurt, and Poker smothers a laugh.

“Seriously?” Lance scoffs. “Your parents must’ve hated you.”

Poker stiffens, turning his attention to the other man. “Watch it,” he snarls.

“Uh, M. Green?” the delivery guy questions.

“Yeah, um, that’s me,” I tell him, taking the bouquet he hands me.

“Have a good night,” he says before turning on his heel and walking out of the bar.

I glance from the flowers to Lance to Poker. The latter is watching me intently, like he’ll jump out of his skin if I don’t tell him who they’re from.

So not him.

I pull out the little card as I force my breathing to even out. This has to be a coincidence, right? Maybe they’re from Addison for letting her stay the other night. She heard Poker calling me Mistress Green, so she assumed that’s my actual name.