“What the fuck?”
Granted it’s better than the first gift, but not by much.
Kit clutches her stomach and laughs. “Holy shit. That’s priceless.”
She’s clearly amused by my brother’s antics. But I’m not.
“Give me your car keys.”
Her laughter comes to a halt. “Why?”
Because unlike Asher, his gift isn’t completely useless to me.
“You can’t be serious,” Kit exclaims as we walk inside the pawnshop. “You’re really gonna hock your brother’s present?”
“Yup.” I march up to the man standing at the counter and slap the Rolex down. “How much can I get for this?”
The guy looks at me like I’m certifiable as he studies it. “Damn, man. You sure you really want to give this baby up?”
“No,” Kit says beside me. “He doesn’t.”
“Yes,” I hiss, glaring at her. “I do.”
Earlier today my old bookie Buster called me. I’m not sure how he got my number, but he said he got word I was back in town and his buddy was looking for another person to fill a seat at an underground poker game he’s hosting at his house tonight.
I would have hocked the Rolex anyway, but his invitation gave me even more of an incentive to do so.
The guy picks up a loupe and scrutinizes the watch. “It’s in excellent condition.”
“I know.” On account it’s new and all.
“I’ll give you five grand,” he says after a minute.
I know Asher paid at least triple that for it, if not more.
Plus, the buy-in alone starts at a grand.
Annoyed, I point to the bezel. “Those diamonds might be tiny, but they’re real. That makes it worth a lot more than a regular ol’ Rolex.”
“You’re right,” he agrees before flipping it over. “But the inscription takes away from the value.”
“Inscription?” I snatch the watch back. “What inscrip—” A grunt of exasperation leaves me when I see: My Favorite Brother engraved in script.
I’m your only brother, jackass. And that shit definitely puts a damper on its worth.
Kit, who’s peeking over my arm, clutches her chest. “Oh, my God. Preston—”
“Can it, angry girl.” I look at the guy. “Lots of people have brothers.”
He thinks about this for a moment before taking it back and giving it another once-over. “Eight grand. But that’s my final offer.”
“Nine.”
I can tell he wants to argue, but he knows I can get even more selling it online.
Problem is, I need the money now.
“Fine.” He jerks his chin toward the back room. “Give me a minute.”
The moment he leaves, Kit turns to me. “Preston.”
“Don’t start. It was my gift, therefore it’s mine to do with as I please.”
She blows out a breath. “I know, but…” A wrinkle forms between her brows. “This is going to make things even more awkward later.”
Safe to say she’s piqued my interest. “Why? What’s happening later?”
She averts her gaze. “Nothing.” She points to something on the other side of the shop. “Wow, look at those.”
I catch her wrist before she can walk away. “Cut the shit.”
She turns to me, her expression resigned. “Fine, don’t get mad, but I kind of, sort of…maybe invited Landon, Breslin, Asher, and Picasso over for dinner to celebrate your birthday—”
“You did what?” My statement lashes out with the force of a whip and Kit flinches.
“I know you’re having issues with him, but I figured since they live next door now maybe—”
“Maybe nothing, Kit. You promised you wouldn’t get involved, yet here you are…inviting him to dinner like everything’s fine and dandy.”
But it’s not. Far from it.
She drops her gaze. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I was hoping…” Her voice trails off, but then she finds it again. “Look, I understand that you don’t get along with Asher, but they’re still my friends. Being forced to stay away from them isn’t fair.”
As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. Just because I want nothing to do with them, doesn’t mean I have a right to keep her from the people she deems important.
“Fine,” I relent. “Have your dinner.”
She eyes me skeptically. “Are you sure?”
No, but making her tiptoe around me and Asher’s shit will only drive her to drink.
Doesn’t mean I have to talk to him when he’s around, though.
“As long as you don’t force me to do anything I don’t want to—like talk to the fucker—everything will be fine.”
She holds up her free hand. “You have my word.”
The man comes back out with an envelope and I remember I have a poker game later, which means I get to skip this shitshow altogether.
“On second thought, it doesn’t matter. I have other plans tonight.”
Taken by surprise, she blinks. “What plans?”
I quickly sign the form and seize the envelope. “Poker game.”
Her disappointment is tangible when we walk out of the shop. “Oh.”
I can’t help but notice the scowl on her face as we make our way to the car.
“Is that a problem, wife?”
“No, husband. Everything’s peachy.”
She opens the passenger door to get in, but I take hold of her waist, spin her around, and press her against the car.
“You sure about that?”
A furious blush graces her cheeks when I drop my head and run my nose along the column of her neck, inhaling her.
“What are you doing?”
Calling her on her shit.
A small gasp leaves her when I trail my fingers down the side of her stomach, stopping when I reach the waistband of her leggings. “Are you wearing your big girl panties today?”
A crinkle forms between her brows. “Huh?”
“My guess is no.” Gripping the material, I snap the elastic against her skin. “Because if you were, you’d tell me you’re pissed about me playing poker tonight instead of pulling this passive-aggressive shit.”
That scowl is back with a vengeance. “Fine. I’m pissed you’re playing poker tonight…happy?”
Hardly, but at least she admitted it.
“As for what kind of underwear I’m wearing…” Wrapping an arm around my neck, she bites her lower lip suggestively. “I’m not.”
My cock twitches and my body throbs with lust. “Is that so?”
Suppressing a groan, I skim her hip bone with the pad of my thumb. “It’s my birthday weekend,” I remind her, inching closer to the holy grail between her legs.
“I know.” She clamps her hand over mine, stopping me right before I can make contact. “But you have a poker game to attend, remember?”
With that, she shoves me away and gets inside the car.
Well played, angry girl.
Chapter 15