Page 267 of Double Daddies
“I’m building up to the grand finale,” he fired back, then cocked his head at Clay. “Want us to rustle up some snacks, Master Clay? Allan tried his hand at making some jerky earlier.”
“Maybe later, thanks. Is Avery still here?”
“The Goddess? No, she had her kitchen cleaned up and was out the door by seven-thirty? Eight?” Dante looked around at his poker companions for clarification.
“Eight,” an older guy supplied in a raspy voice. “I went out for my hourly smoke at seven-fifty-five, came in a couple minutes before she took off through the back door. Thought she might come back, what with the hours she’s been doing, but haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
Clay frowned. “Thanks. Any of you know which cabin she’s in?”
“Is she okay?” Gum-Snapper asked, lowering her hands but folding them in toward her chest to guard her cards.
“Just want to check up on her. We were supposed to meet at nine, but she didn’t show.”
“That’s not like her, she’s pretty prompt. Always here two hours before everyone else rolls in.” She studied him with suspicion, then her shoulders relaxed. “Block B, not sure what room. If anything happens to her,” she warned both of them, meeting each of their eyes with a feisty glare, “I won’t hesitateto rat you out to Evander and Elias. Our accommodations are supposed to be private.”
“Not to the Masters. Thanks.”
Tristan eyed up the players around the table. He loved gambling, usually spent at least one night a week holed up in a casino. It was more than just taking risks with money—he had fond memories of stacks of chips clicking together as he mulled over a dodgy hand, the smell of cigars and expensive perfume, the feel of the baize under his fingertips.
Studying his fellow participants was more habit now, but once it had been an exercise in psychology. He could spot an addict from across the room, learn someone’s tells after a couple hands, and systematically annihilate the competition by the end of the night.
Now, he winked at Gum-Snapper. “Hit me up next time you play.”
She grinned. “A Dom with a masochistic streak. We’re here every night, sidle on up to the table the next time you want your ass kicked.”
If this thing with Avery didn’t work out, he might just do that.
“Not your smartest idea,” Clay commented as they took the back exit out of the kitchen. “Flirting with the women Avery spends a lot of time with is going to bite you. The kitchen staff are notorious gossips, possibly worse than the housekeepers, just with less fodder to bitch about.”
“I wasn’t flirting, that was…”
“When you wink, it’s a flirtation.”
“Not every time, for fuck’s sake.”
Clay laughed and veered down a heavily wooded path. “A good-looking guy like you winks at the only woman at a table full of poker players, it’s flirting. Lucky for you, Sasha is one hundred percent lesbian; she’s more likely to hit on Avery than you.”
“As long as she can play poker without an ace tucked up her sleeve, I don’t care.”
“Good answer. I’d stick with that.” With long strides, Clay ate up the eerie route quickly, his mind obviously on one thing only. He paid no attention to the shadows creeping over the path or the darkness gathering strength in the trees as the sun began its descent into night. “Do not mention this pathway to anyone—and I mean anyone, Tristan.”
Following like a lost puppy, he scowled. “Is it supposed to be a secret?”
“Yes,” was the immediate answer. “There are only two ways to reach the employee cabins—the main route connected to the entire club, and this. Both are monitored by the security team and cameras, but this way gives the staff—especially the females—a sense of safety because no guest knows about it. Overzealous members can’t follow or wait for them in the bushes if they get carried away with an infatuation.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“No, and we don’t want it to become a common occurrence. Serenity is a safe community, designed to be a family for those who need one. Protecting it and the people who live, work, and play here is paramount.”
The guy was loyal as fuck, wasn’t he? The conviction in his voice told Tristan he believed every word he said, he wasn’t just paying lip service to a job. “How long have you been here?”
Clay glanced at him. “Nearly seven weeks. Took the position because Evander’s dream has merit and I wanted to be part of it, but his and Eli’s principles are second to none. They want a club where all are welcome and made to feel like they’re home.”
“Do you?”
“Full of questions, aren’t you? Yes, I do. I didn’t think I would—my entire life was built around ranching. My dad tossed me in the saddle before I could walk, my first pet was an orphaned calf.Losing all that… I lost my roots.” Clay cleared his throat softly. “Meeting Evander for the first time was like finding a long lost brother. As soon as I walked into the clubhouse, I knew I wanted this job, to be here, and I told him I’d do whatever it took to be part of Serenity.”
“What did it take?”
