Page 22 of Lady Luck's Kiss
By the time she and Jack finally pulled ahead, Charlie felt a rare thrill of victory bubbling in her chest—only to see Jodie slide a card across the table right in front of her, bold as brass. Jodie’s smirk stretched from ear to ear, sly and taunting, like some mischievous Cheshire Cat straight out of a storybook.
“What the heck, Beth?” Charlie asked, unable to contain her laughter as she turned toward Jack.
He only shrugged, meeting her gaze with that quiet, steady look of his, then flicked his eyes down to their hands. The message was clear without a word spoken:ignore them.
And he was right. Beth would do anything to win—rules were optional.
So Charlie shifted her focus. Instead of fuming over the blatant cheating across the table, she studied Jack. She began to notice the smallest of things—things she’d never realized about him before. The way he tapped a card against the tabletop absentmindedly, only to glance her way in a subtle cue. It wasn’t obvious, not the kind of exaggerated signal a cheater would use, but soft and natural, like a rhythm he didn’t even know he kept.
The more she watched, the more she realized he was helping her. Not cheating—just… teaming up with her, reading the game and letting her in on his quiet strategy. For the first time all afternoon, she felt like they had the upper hand, not because of luck, but because of him.
Beth and Jodie’s tricks grew more outlandish, and yet Charlie and Jack still won hand after hand. By five o’clock, Charlie finally rose, flipping the “OPEN” sign around to “CLOSED” and locking up the garage for the night. The metallic clink of the lock echoed in the quiet evening, and for a moment she let the peace of it wash over her. She hadn’t had a day this easy, this lighthearted, in what felt like forever.
When she sat back down for the last few rounds, she found herself smiling—really smiling, not the forced kind she usually wore when the stress of the garage weighed her down.
As they finished the final hand, Beth slung her purse over her shoulder and stood with dramatic flair.
“I think it’s time we head out. Jodie said she was buying dinner tonight and I’m not letting her get out of it. I bought the last three times.” Beth gave a cheeky little salute. “Bye, lovebirds!”
Charlie rolled her eyes, heat rising faintly in her cheeks, but couldn’t suppress her grin as the two women left. She turned back to Jack, amusement sparkling in her gaze.
“She’s quite the cheater, isn’t she?”
“I didn’t want to say it, but yes,” Jack admitted, leaning back in his chair, his smile soft and genuine. “Did you see them giving each other high fives and exchanging cards?”
“No! They did?”
“Why do you think they did it two times in a row? One gave a card, then they slapped hands and the other gave a card. They are really bad cheaters, but really good people.”
Charlie laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, they are. I had fun today.”
“And it’s not over yet.”
Her pulse skipped at the easy promise in his tone. She met his eyes, a little surprised by how glad she was to hear it.
“I’m glad.”
“Me, too.” Jack grabbed the basket and pulled out a bottle of wine. He then reached in and grabbed two small votives, as well as a lighter. “I thought we’d have a candlelight dinner, just you and I?”
“That’s so sweet, but I didn’t cook anything.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” His hand dove in the basket again and brought up a cheese tray as well as a box of crackers.
“Maybe we should go upstairs so we can set the table?”
“I don’t want you to be nervous or uncomfortable.”
Smiling, Charlie picked up the candles and lighter. “C’mon, Jack. It’s a bit cozier up there. And if a customer pulls up and sees us inside, they might interrupt our dinner.”
“Dinner at your place tonight, then maybe dinner at mine tomorrow?”
“Sounds excellent.”
“Fair warning. I can’t cook,” he admitted shyly. He followed her up the stairs and Charlie was infinitely aware that she was leading him into her personal space. No one ever came up, much less saw how feminine her inner sanctum was. It was so different from the rest of her image but suited her to a ’T’. Opening the door, she glanced over her shoulder, suddenly curious. If he couldn’t cook, then what was in the basket?
“What did you bring then?”
“Cheese plate, wine and Spaghetti-Os.”
