Page 50 of Dreadful

His grin widens. “Read ’em and weep, assholes.”

Bishop’s lips twitch as he sets his cards down, fanning them out to show his three queens in a neat row.

The grin slides right off Gage’s face. “Motherfucker.”

Something bright and fizzy erupts in my chest. I can’t help it—a full laugh spills out of me.

Cruz whistles under his breath. “Imagine getting your dick out just to lose to Bishop.”

“You—shut up,” Gage says, but there’s no heat behind it. “At least I had the balls to play. You fold too easily, Cruz.”

“Strategy, brother,” Cruz says pleasantly, like it’s a diagnosis.

Gage flips him off.

Bishop leans back in his chair and says absolutely nothing, which is somehow worse. The smug satisfaction radiating off him is so thick I could choke on it. It makes me want to ruin his entire night.

I lay my cards down one at a time—two hearts, then another, and another. By the time the fifth one hits the table, Bishop has gone completely still, his expression flattening into displeasure.

I fan the flush out slowly with the tips of my fingers. “Huh. Look at that.”

Gage and Cruz both laugh, their mirth infectious.

“Oh, fuck you,” Bishop mutters to them.

Before I can properly enjoy the expression of defeat on his face, warm fingers curl beneath my chin.

Rafe tilts my head back and drops a kiss to my mouth. “Good job, baby.”

Warmth blooms low in my stomach. I smile against his lips, but he pulls away before I can turn it into anything more.

Bishop snaps,“Break’s over.”

Rafe just laughs as he strolls out of the room and heads for the backyard to resume watch like he didn’t just make my entire chest feel too full over a little bit of praise.

I turn my attention back to the table. More specifically, my pot. There’s an impressive amount of clothing piled in the middle now, and I drag it toward myself with both arms.

“What am I ever going to do with all my winnings?” I drag the pile closer and let my chin drop into my hand, gazing at it.

Cruz snorts. “You mean Gage’s closet.”

“I happen to like wearing Gage’s clothes.” I throw some sass into it, arching my brow at Cruz. I haven’t forgotten the way he looked at me when I wore his shirt for the first day here.

Like he can read my mind, his expression morphs into something more contemplative.

I pluck the most recent addition from the pile and twirl them around one finger by the waistband. “What will you give me for these?”

Gage chuckles and leans across the table, making absolutely no attempt to cover himself.

“Considering my room is down the hall, where I have a whole drawer full of ’em?” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Anything.”

I pretend to consider it. “My price is steep.”

“I can afford it,” he says quickly.

“Oh, I’m sure you can.”

He grins, letting his gaze roam my face like he’s committing it to memory patiently waiting for me to name my terms. He plants one hand on the table and leans closer.