Page 129 of The Score We Never Settled

She gives me a warm smile. “So, we’re good then?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Good.” She begins down the sidewalk. “Ya might be out a general manager, though, when ya get back. I might kill Blake and his big ole head.”

Great.

Let’s add murder to the list of things I’d need to resolve.

37

LAYLA

“What is a full house again?”

Dodger disgruntledly lowers his two cards and sends a blank stare over to Adeline, clearly not having the additional questions on a game she invited herself to. “Ya know damn well what a?—”

“Language,” William Drake drawls, chewing on a toothpick. “We’ve got ladies in the room now.”

Really, because Uncle Ben hasn’t taken notice.

He’s sitting next to Adeline, not bothering to look up at his cards once, and she’s already played three hands.

“Ain’t no ladies in here,” Dodger claims. “Adeline had a damn gamblin’ ring in high school.”

All eyes land on her, but she doesn’t crack under the pressure. Instead, she looks as innocent as a little fawn in front of a bunch of poachers.

“I dunno what you mean,” she coos. “That’s inaccurate.”

Dodger scoffs and goes back to studying his next play. “Then how was it that you took all my allowance money and made me drive naked that one time?—”

“Aw, hell,” Thomas Redding drawls, tossing his cards to the table. “I fold. I’d rather lose my twenty bucks than listen to you drivin’ anywhere without any pants on.”

“Dodger,” Uncle Ben addresses. “Please don’t tell me you were friends with my niece. I don’t wanna think that she started’ seein’ that boy because of your?—”

“Let’s go talk in private,” I coax because I’ve stood here for long enough, and I’m not doing it anymore. “Unless you wanna do it here?”

He immediately pushes his chair back because the last thing he wants to do is cause drama with his name attached to it.

“Ain’t nuthin’ compared to what my daddy said you used to do, Ben,” Dodger makes sure to slide in before we can get on with it. “I heard you had quite a long triangle goin’.”

William and Thomas chuckle in confirmation that Uncle Ben has a history of his own, and judging mine is starting to slip right through his fingers.

I love this town.

We head into the tiny hallway, tucked in between the back room and the front of the hardware store, when my uncle huffs his annoyance.

“What is it, Layla Jean? I was startin’ to win back there.”

“Not with Adeline at the table, apparently. She’s been folding on purpose, and Dodger is getting irritated about it.”

“Foldin’? Why would she?—”

“To get the pot bigger. You still have a lot of chips on the table.”

He looks back at the room. “Oh, for the love of God. Those Kerrigans?—”

“We need to talk about Briggs, Uncle Ben. I know you’re mad, but?—”