Page 46 of The Pocket Pair

“Nope.”

He grins, and that’s when Collin and Pat hit the floor, rolling through the kitchen with Amber bounding after them. Collin’s phone goes flying, sliding across the tile floor and coming to rest by Big Mo’s boot.

He shakes his head, picking up the phone and setting it on the table. “You wanna cash me out, James? I best be heading on if I’m gonna get up to cook in the morning.”

“No problem,” James says, starting to count out chips and cash.

The buy-ins are low at poker night, much lower than one might think for a family who probably all have six to seven figures in the bank. Then again, not wasting money on things like poker is probably why the Grahams still have loads of money. Their fiscal responsibility is a thing to be admired. Or resented, depending on my mood.

“Are you gonna be okay when Mari leaves?” I ask Mo.

“It’ll be like losing a limb,” he says with a soft, sad smile. Thinking of Val leaving, I really get that. “I’m hiring someone to run the business side. I just want to cook.”

“That’s good. Because I might starve without your cooking,” I tell him.

He eyes me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Sounds like you’ve got your own chef under your roof now, one who learned from Mari herself.”

I open my mouth to argue that Val is a temporary roommate, not my personal chef, but then remember her promise to make me stuffed French toast in the morning. My stomach rumbles a little at the thought, though I still don’t know what stuffed French toast is.

Big Mo stands, taking what’s left of his root beer and his winnings from James. Then he steps right over Collin and Pat, who are still writhing around. Thankfully, they’re too out of breath to keep insulting each other. It’s mostly a lot of grunts, thuds, and heavy breathing.

“Night … Mo!” Pat wheezes as Collin rolls them until he’s on top.

“Don’t get blood on these nice, new floors,” Mo calls, and then the front door closes behind him.

“Collin,” James says, “your phone’s right here if you want to stop beating up on Patty.”

“I’m the one … winning!” Pat insists, right as Collin pins his arms with a triumphant whoop.

Collin rolls to the side just enough to let Amber get to Pat’s face. He tries to wiggle away, but Collin holds him down fast. Amber puts two paws on his chest as she keeps on with her tongue assault.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Pat cries between giggles, but Collin doesn’t move for another few seconds.

“Don’t take my phone again,” Collin says, getting to his feet and swiping the phone from the table. “And definitely don’t text Liza for me.”

“No promises.” Pat gets to his feet and lumbers over to the sink, where he splashes cold water on his face.

“I don’t understand why y’all can’t be supportive.” Collin straightens up the chairs tipped over in the chase, grumbling as he goes. “You’re both in serious relationships.”

“Yeah, but your girlfriend is the worst,” James says.

“Amen,” says Pat from the floor. Amber’s now stretched out beside him on her back, with Pat scratching her belly.

Collin glares at James. “Not you too!”

I’ve never met Collin’s girlfriend, but I’ve heard all about her. Mostly about how she’s terrible and everyone in the family hates her for reasons that Collin seems hellbent on ignoring. I start stacking chips back in the box, wondering if Val is still up.

I stack a little faster.

“She’s not good for you,” Pat says. “And she’s gotten all up in your business. Like, your actual business. What trainer asks for access to your finances?”

Collin huffs and drops into a seat, crossing his arms. “Harper doesn’t have time to help with the bookkeeping anymore. Liza offered. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is Harper’s our sister. We trust her. Not just to balance a spreadsheet. But to have access to your financials.”

“I trust Liza.” Collin pauses, frowning down at his phone. “And I’m just so tired of the dating game, you know? I want to be done.”

The room goes quiet as Pat shuts off the sink and turns, looking for once like he can’t find a single word to say. But then, because it’s Pat, he finds some words anyway.

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