Bed of Roses (Bride Quartet #2)(42)

"Since it's Carter's first official Poker Night, let's try not to humiliate him." Del clapped a friendly hand on Carter's shoulder. "Taking his money's one thing, embarrassing him's another."

"I'll be gentle," Jack promised.

"I could just watch."

"Now where's the fun and profit in that. For us?" Del asked.

"Ha," Carter managed.

They mingled around Del's lower level. A boy's dream space, in Jack's opinion, with its antique bar that had once served pints in Galway, its slate pool table, its flat-screen TV-an auxiliary to the even bigger one in the media room on the other side of the house. It boasted a vintage jukebox, video games, and two classic pinball machines. Leather chairs, sofas that could take a beating. And a Vegas-style poker table just waiting for action.

No wonder he and Del were friends.

"If you were a girl," Jack said to Del, "I'd marry you."

"No. You'd just have sex with me then never call me."

"You're probably right."

Since it was there, Jack snagged a slice of pizza. Skinning friends was hungry work. As he ate he considered the group. Two lawyers, the professor, the architect, the surgeon, the landscape designer-and as he watched the last player come through the door-the mechanic.

Interesting group, he thought. It fluctuated from time to time with a new addition, like Carter, or when one of them couldn't make it. The tradition of Poker Night had begun when he and Del had met in college. The faces might change off and on, but the foundation remained.

Eat, drink, tell lies, talk sports. And try to win money from your friends.

"We're all here. Want a beer, Mal?" Del asked.

"I'm breathing. How's it going?" Mal said to Jack.

"Well enough. The new blood's Carter Maguire. Carter, Malcolm Kavanaugh."

Mal nodded. "Hey."

"Nice to meet you. Kavanaugh? The mechanic?"

"Guilty."

"You towed my future mother-in-law's car."

"Yeah? Did she want me to?"

"No. Linda Barrington."

Mal narrowed his eyes. "Okay. Yeah. The BMW convertible. The 128i."

"Um. I guess."

"Nice ride. Interesting woman." Mal smirked as he lifted his beer again. "Good luck with that." 

"The daughter doesn't take after the mother," Del put in.

"Lucky for you," Mal said to Carter. "I met her-the daughter. Mackensie, right? She's hot. She does the bride thing with the Cobalt I just serviced."

"Emma," Del added.

"Right. She ought to be arrested for vehicular abuse. I met your sister when she picked it up," he told Del, and grinned. "She's hot, too. Even when she gives you the deep freeze."

"So . . . Emma didn't pick up her car?"

Mal glanced at Jack. "No, the other one did. Ms. Brown." He took a hit of his beer. "The one who says 'excuse me' and means 'fuck you.' "

"That would be Parker," Del confirmed.

"Does the car abuser look as good as the other two?"

"They all look good," Jack murmured.

"Sorry I missed her."

"Before I have to punch Mal for thinking lascivious thoughts about my sisters-biological and honorary," Del said, "let's play cards."

"Be right there." As the others wandered to the table, Jack pulled out his phone to check his e-mails.





IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT WHEN EMMA GOT HOME. ONCE they'd started talking plans and ideas for Mac's wedding, time whizzed.

She all but bounced into the house, energized by the evening, and just a little giddy on champagne.

Mac's wedding.

She could already see how utterly perfect the bride would be in her gorgeous gown, a waterfall of flowers in her arms. And she, Parker, and Laurel, triple maids of honor. Russet for her, autumn gold for Parker, pumpkin for Laurel. And oh, the flowers she'd do with that rich palette of fall.

It would be a challenge, Emma thought as she started upstairs. Parker had been right to point that out so they could begin to plan how it could and would be done. Running a wedding was one thing. Running it and being part of it was another.

They'd need extra help, more subs, but they'd not only do it, they'd knock it out of the park.

Cruising on the mood, she began her nightly ritual. When her bed was turned down, she nodded, smoothed the sheets. There, she'd shown a very mature restraint. An evening with friends-business and pleasure-and no neglecting of her nighttime routine.

It proved she was a sensible adult.

Crossing the fingers of both hands, she dashed from her bedroom to her office to bring up her e-mail.

"There, I knew it."

She clicked open Jack's latest message.

Now you're playing dirty. Thanks.

I like surprises. I especially like unwrapping them, so I look forward to helping you out of your coat. I like to take my time with surprises, build anticipation. So I'm going to unwrap you very slowly. Inch by inch.