Page 10 of Hard Hearts

"That's fine," Kaden reassures her.

"Are you sure? I'm just not a giant wine lover, and it would be a waste on us."

“Don’t think twice about it.” Kaden graces her with one of his smiles.

“Thank you. We are trying to raise money to fund a new recreation center for the inner city youth. We’re almost at our goal, and this will help get us there. But enough about me. Come and sit, I want to hear all about you two lovebirds,” Kate says, ushering us toward a very expensive looking seating area.

The men go about making us drinks before coming over to join us. I ask Kate more about the rec center she is working on. I can tell with how animated she speaks about it that it means a lot to her. There is a passion there.

I see it too with Kaden when football comes up, and I know Jasper loves racing cars. Now he’s taking that passion to another level. It makes me ponder if my passion is in the right place and for the right reasons.

“You all should come to the event. It’s a seated dinner event. I bet if we put you at our table, we could sell those other six seats for a nice chunk.”

“Anything to help.” Kaden puts his hand on my thigh. Before I can think better of it, I place my hand on top of his. I'm really getting into my part here. I'm acting. That's all.... At least that's what I tell myself once again.

Chapter Eight

KADEN

“He’s bluffing.” Graham sends a narrow-eyed glare toward Brooks, who doesn’t look up from his cards.

The chef is staring at his hand intensely, but that’s nothing new. It’s the way he looks at everything. Brooks’ usual tell for a good hand is glancing down at his chips after picking up his cards, but he didn’t do that this time, so Graham could be right.

The thing is that Graham might be bluffing too. He’s always talking, trying to cover up his own bad or good hand. Dylan, our fourth, is distracted. He might have a good hand, but he doesn’t even notice because his mind is elsewhere. I knock my fist against the felt-covered table.

“Earth to Dylan. You still with us?”

He jerks to attention and slides a handful of chips to the center. “I call. Did I hear you were bluffing, Brooks?”

Brooks slams his cards down and glares at us. “I was not bluffing.”

“Show us your cards then,” Graham says.

“I don’t have to show you anything but my five knuckle sandwich.” Brooks raises his fist toward Graham.

“Threatening me with your paw at the poker table is crazy,” Graham says, laying down his hand. It’s a flush, jack high.

“Fuck.” I throw my cards in. Graham wins more than he loses, which is completely unnecessary given that he’s a gazillionaire.

“You suck at cards, country boy,” Graham says as he rakes in the chips. “I’ll throw the next hand since your wallet is probably thin these days. You tell the boys about your big purchase?”

“Not yet.” I stretch my arms and then hold them out. “Congratulate me, gentlemen, I’m getting married.”

“I already heard,” Dylan says. “I was thinking about making you guys a wedding blanket, and no, you don’t get to say what kind you want. I’m making it so you’ll live with the final result.”

I hold up my hands. “Friend, I’m all for whatever you want to make. I hear your stuff is selling for thousands at Neiman these days. If my football career doesn’t work out, I can always sell the gift to feed my family.”

Dylan is not having it. “You can’t sell my gifts. I’d have to kill you then.”

“We can’t have that because poker sucks with three players,” Graham tells me.

“Why did Dylan already know?” Brooks suddenly says. “And Graham knew. But not me.”

“Graham took me to this super secret Batman?—”

“More like Alfred—“ Graham interjects unhelpfully.

“—like jewelry,” I continue ignoring the other man. “I bought a diamond for Frankie.”