Page 23 of The Cupcake Standard

Chapter Five

Gina wasn’t the only one who liked to gamble. It wasn’t surprising since I’d been raised in my dad’s poker room, the mascot for his weekly games. How could I not love it after I’d sat on his lap hand after hand, studying the cards and reading his opponents, until I’d learned what to do in almost every situation.

As Liam shuffled, I sipped my whiskey, feeling it burn the whole way down. Daddy would love this. If I closed my eyes, I could smell the cigars, hear my dad’s rough laughter as his friends told jokes I didn’t understand.

Derek jolted me out of my reverie with a nudge, since it was my turn to bet. After a few friendly rounds, playing with chips just for fun while we ate our subs, Liam suggested raising the stakes.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, all innocence and sweetness. Fly, meet honey.

He smirked. “Instead of chips, let’s play for clothes.”

I shuffled the cards. “Strip poker?” I feigned shyness, nibbling on my lower lip. My eyes flew to Derek, who gave absolutely nothing away. I would’ve liked at least a little excitement from him. Of course, he’s already had a private show. I felt my cheeks heat up. “What game?”

Liam and Derek exchanged a look to say they didn’t care.

“How about a simple five card draw?” It was my bread and butter. We’d been playing Texas Hold ’Em until this point, which I was okay at. But I’d been holding back, trying to get a read on both of them. Plus, I’d had a feeling Liam was still trying to one-up me. And I’d been right.

“Sure.” Derek grinned, clearly happy with my choice.

Liam’s mouth tightened, but he couldn’t say no after Derek had already agreed.

“Okay, five card draw, one draw, up to three cards. Liam, since you suggested it, how are you envisioning this? We assign a point value to each article of clothing?” I’d done that before, and it was a lot to keep track of, so I was relieved when he shook his head.

“How about we all start each hand with the same amount of chips? Then we play like normal, and whoever wins the round doesn’t have to take off anything.” His smirk was so cocky. “Socks count as one item.”

I looked forward to wiping the smile off his face. It was difficult to maintain my façade of uncertainty. “Is there a penalty for folding?”

He and Derek exchanged a look, then Liam scratched his chin. “You can fold before the draw. Otherwise, it’s considered a loss.”

Sounded fair to me, so I nodded my agreement. Derek’s head bobbed, too.

We were using poker chips, blue ones worth ten, red ones worth five and whites each worth one.

I dealt, making sure to watch as they got their cards. Derek tended to press his lips together briefly if his hand sucked. It had taken me a while to notice, the motion so quick and subtle. When things were good, though, his gaze flicked more to us, trying to figure out how much to bet.

Liam was more obvious. He tapped his thumb on the table if he had a good hand, just a couple of quick celebratory taps. For a bad one, he’d touch his face, rub his nose or play with his lip. Which he’s doing right now.

Derek wasn’t making eye contact, so he didn’t have a stellar hand. I peeked at mine, relieved to see a pair of aces and a king.

They all stayed in for the betting, and I raised them up to a blue chip. “All right, boys. How many you want?”

“Three for me.” Derek’s lips mushed together as he eyed his new cards.

Perfect, and he can’t fold now without taking something off. I turned to Liam.

He held up three fingers. I watched him as I dealt myself two. He didn’t do either of his tells, so likely a middle-of-the-road hand. It’d be interesting to see where he went with it.

Derek checked. Liam threw in a blue chip, smirking like he held a royal flush. I decided to hem and haw a little, then just called him, tossing in my own blue chip. Derek threw one as well—he was in for clothes whether he liked it or not. He laid his hand first, a pair of fours, queen high.

Liam’s grin got bigger. “Pair of kings, queen high.”

All eyes were on me as I casually laid down my cards. “Guess I win with two pair, huh, boys?” I let the grin I’d been holding back spread across my face.

Both of them muttered, annoyed, but they shoved away from the table. They glanced at each other, and I knew they were silently making a plan. Sure enough, they both turned to face me as Derek blasted stripper music on his phone. Amidst swiveling hips and a lot of fanfare, they both took off their shirts, probably deciding that was their biggest weapon.

They weren’t wrong. Even though I’d seen Derek shirtless already, my brain short-circuited. And Liam’s bare torso was nothing to sneeze at. He was all muscle, and I loved his tattoo. It reminded me of flames chasing in an endless circle around the thick biceps of his right arm. I’d be happy to stare at him all day, given the opportunity, but not when he sat next to Derek.

My gaze kept drifting back to my fake boyfriend as he turned off the music, plopped in his chair and began shuffling cards. I didn’t just want to look at him. I wanted to run my fingers over every ridge, press myself up against those hard planes—

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