Page 30 of Landing Her Eagle
“Yeah, we grew up here and attended college together,” Liam confirms. “We’re friends.”
“Wow, I never knew you traveled in such rarefied circles,” she teases.
“Liam’s fancy like that,” Kennie chimes in as only a younger sibling can.
Instead of playing up the horn-and-tail devil stereotype they could have easily adopted, Devil’s Den embraces the old English version of a gambling den. Rich wood finishes, deep-toned leather seating, lighting that’s more reminiscent of candlelight than neon. Instead of having the female cocktail servers dressed in a bustier and heels, they wear riding pants, tall boots, and white button-down shirts, like a groom or a gentleman back from his morning ride. There isn’t excessive skin showing, but it’s sexy. My friend Caleb’s sister is a server, and she says the uniforms are extremely comfortable and their tip rates are the highest in the city. The male servers wear the same outfits, and based on the giggles from Daph and Kennie when a server named Simon took our order as we settled at a bank of slot machines, they do wonders for the male employees too.
Kennie stares after the departing server wistfully. “He totally resembles the actor who played Simon! Do you think that’s his real name or is it fake to play up on the resemblance? I wish he had the English accent. That would have been perfect. Ooh! Tell him your name is Daphne and see what happens!”
Oh, hell no. I’ve heard about this Netflix show everyone is gaga over. I’m not letting a Regé-Jean Page doppelgänger nearmyDaphne.
“What the hell, Kendall? You can’t be trying to fix up my girlfriend with the cocktail server. Or anyone!” I shake my head. “Where’s your loyalty? We’re family!”
I’m slightly kidding and being melodramatic, but there’s a thread of truth to my statement, too. Just because I’ll be leaving in a few days doesn’t mean Daphne and I are done. We’re in a relationship and exclusive with each other.
Daphne knows that, right?
Oblivious to the thoughts running through my head, Daphne kisses my cheek and settles back to view the animated slot machine in front of her. It’s something with lobsters and a bunch of lines to create winning combinations. We’re in the penny slot section. It’s more about hanging out together and having fun than hardcore gambling.
Studly McStuddington is back with our drinks.
“I got the Coke,” I say when he asks.
Liam claims his Guinness beer, and the girls accept their margaritas.
Oh no. They both had wine at dinner, and now they’re adding tequila? This is going to be bad. Liam and I make eye contact. He’s thinking the same thing I am. He’ll watch Kennie and, of course, Daphne is always my focus.
We spend a little time at the slot machines. Kennie’s excited. She won twenty bucks on a crazy Yeti-themed game. I’m glad she quit while she’s ahead. We wander around the casino floor awash with the noise from the slots and observe the table games. Liam and I play a couple hands of blackjack with no luck, so we don’t mind when the girls decide they want to go to the lounge to listen to the live music. One thing that makes Devil’s Den unique is that instead of having nightclubs full of thumping bass and sweaty bodies, they have lounges with live music and drink service. It’s a bit more refined, and I like it. I enjoy the neon wonderlands of the other casinos, but sometimes it’s refreshing to be social in a lower-key atmosphere like this.
The band is very good. They’re playing bluegrass-tinged covers of songs made popular by U2, Tom Petty, Africa, and other artists of the last few decades. It’s not something you’d expect to work, but it does. There’s almost a Celtic tone to it that I appreciate. Somewhere along the way, Kendall and Daphne switch from margaritas to gross candy corn cocktails. My girl’s going to be spending her Saturday nursing one hell of a hangover if she doesn’t start drinking water and maybe get some good old greasy diner food in her to sop up the liquor.
The girls get up to dance to a rousing version of “Beautiful Day.”
Liam leans in and speaks over the music. “We have to cut them off. It’s going to be ugly. Did you smell those candy corn monstrosities? They are going to be so much worse coming up than they were going down.”
I pick up Daphne’s glass, take a sniff, and grimace.
Liam laughs. “How about we wrangle them out of here and hit the diner on the way home?”
The band announces they’re taking a break after they finish their song, and now we have a pair of giggling drunk girls back at our table. Pulling Daph in and placing a kiss on her forehead, I murmur, “How about we get out of here, stop at the diner for grub, and then go home? Kennie looks like she’s fading fast.”
That’s a total lie. For a tiny woman, Kendall can drink like a man twice her size. Being a cougar shifter, she can metabolize alcohol quickly. No way can Daphne keep up with her.
Crap, I didn’t think about that. Normally Daphne doesn’t drink, and we aren’t out in a lot of social situations, so it didn’t occur to me.
But dangling Kendall’s well-being in front of her will fix the situation. Daphne’s a nurturer, so if she thinks someone needs taking care of, she’s all for it. Under other circumstances, I’d feel guilty misleading her, but it’s for her own good.
And I’m right. Daphne’s eyes widen, and she flicks a concerned glance toward my cousin. She nods and lets me pull her toward the exit. Kendall and Liam follow close behind.
“I’ll wait for the girls. You get the car,” Liam says when the girls stop in the restroom on the walk to the valet area. Liam, Kendall, and Daphne appear as the valet returns with my Jeep. Liam’s arm hangs around a staggering Daphne, keeping her upright. I know he’s being helpful, but he’s enjoying his hand around her waist and her body pressed to his side a bit too much for my liking.
I tip the valet and open the passenger side door to help my tipsy girlfriend climb in. I’m not risking her getting carsick in the backseat. I’m suddenly grateful my vehicle is roomy enough that Liam fits in the back without having his knees under his chin.
I don’t even make it out of Atlantic City before Daphne is sound asleep, her head resting on the passenger side window as she snores loudly. I guess we’re not stopping at the diner.
Kendall leans forward between the seats. “Holy crap. She snores louder than a frat boy!” I meet Liam’s wide eyes in the rearview mirror. We silently agree we don’t want to know anything about how Kennie knows what frat boys sound like snoring.
Kennie yawns like the cougar she is and falls backward into the seat. “Wanna hit the Mickey D’s drive-thru instead of going to the diner? That way, we don’t have to get Sleeping Beauty here out of the car and keep her awake long enough to eat.”
