Page 57 of Holding His Hostage
Trace belched. “Give me four.”
Mac clucked his tongue. “There’s a two-card limit, Langston. Just like last hand.”
“Then fuck. Give me two.”
Sloan put his cards facedown. “I fold.”
“What the hell, Dvorak?” asked Trace. “You gonna play or not?”
“Not.” He moved to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of Cheetos, opening them and throwing them into the middle of the table.
Mac raised an eyebrow at him. “What happened to the filet mignon?”
“I’m fresh out.”
“I’ll take one,” said Moto.
“Dealer takes two,” said Mac.
Poker was a terrible idea. What was he thinking inviting them over here tonight? He’d been in a foul mood for the past two weeks, and company wasn’t improving it one damn bit.
He knew what his problem was. He missed Jo. He was being the grown-up, doing the right thing, and giving her and David some space to work things out. But he hated it, every brain cell he had left screaming for him to do the wrong thing, be the bad guy, and go get the girl.
“I’m going to be taking a leave of absence from work,” said Mac, throwing two chips into the pot. “I have some personal business I need to take care of.”
Sloan sat back down. “Everything all right?”
“Yep, just looking for my Ellie is all.” Mac looked to Trace. “You in?”
“I’ll raise you twenty.” He burped again. “Jesus, this Mexican beer is killing me. Who’s going to be in charge while you’re away?”
“I figured Sloan here can do it.”
Sloan scowled. “Why me?”
“You decided to stay with HERO Force, ain’t that right? Figure you should try on management for size.”
He’d been continuing to weigh his options since Joanne left. Helping her had made him feel useful again, valuable. Like maybe he had something to contribute to the team, after all. If he hadn’t worked for HERO Force, he never would have been able to help. Still, he resented Mac’s assumption. “I never said for sure.”
“Ah, but you meant to. Just slipped your mind. You try sitting behind the big desk for a while, calling the shots. Let me know how you like it when I get back.”
“Fine.”
The doorbell rang and Gus headed for it, barking his head off. Sloan grabbed a handful of Cheetos and went to answer it, freezing when the dog’s barks changed to a plaintive whine. He cocked his head, hope rising up in his chest. “Who is it, boy?”
He got close enough to hear Fiona’s gravelly voice from the other side. “Hello, puppy, puppy, puppy…”
A smile spread across his face as he opened the door. “Surprise!” yelled Fiona and Lucas. April waved. Joanne stood in the back, her expression more difficult to read.
He opened the storm door, the dog rushing past to leap on Joanne. “Come on in.”
Fiona hugged his legs and he bent down to hug her properly. Lucas also came in for a hug, though he patted Sloan’s back like a man hugging a man. April scooted by with another wave. “Hi, Sloan.” Until only Jo and Gus were left on the porch.
“Hi, there,” she said, her cheeks filling with color and her eyes sparkling. Hope sprang to life for the first time in weeks.
He stepped outside.
He should ask her why she was here.
