Sorrows and Lace (2 page)

Clearing his throat, Ronan took a chance, something he normally wouldn’t do if he was sober. He recognized the risk in his question, but he had to know. At least right in that moment he did. “How’s Kelsey?”

Big Red jumped from his seat faster than any man of his size should be able to – especially drunk – and thrust the stool back into the center of the floor. The piece of furniture knocked over two other chairs and jostled an empty table. Red thrust a finger inches from Ronan’s nose. “You bastard. Like you don’t know.”

“Know what?” Ronan blinked hard. He had to focus. Far from a light weight, the amount he’d consumed would have dropped a normal man, but he could handle it. He just had a little bit of work to do to keep his vision from creating
two or maybe three Reds? He couldn’t be sure.

Balled fists at his sides, Red huffed and puffed. His shoulders rose and dropped with each inhale and exhale. A shiny layer of sweat lined his brow and his bloodshot eyes glared violently at Ronan. “You sonuvabitch.
You ruined my sister. Ruined her! She married Sonny Caracus after you ditched her. Sonny Caracus! That bastard. The things he did to h…” Shaking, Red licked his lips which dripped spittle.

A fine chill sent shivers up the back of Ronan’s calves, past his hips and to his shoulder blades. Sonny Caracus. “I didn’t know. How is that going?”
Holy crap, his own recent experience with the Caracus gang left a bitter taste in his mouth. If Kelsey had married one of them, what then had become of her?

Red hissed. “She almost didn’t make it. The first dozen times she just had to go to the hospital in Missoula, but last year she was Medevac’d to Seattle.” He hung his head, wiping at his cheek. “You didn’t have to do what you did.” He lifted his face, pure hatred mottling his face.
“You didn’t have to make her hate herself… and us.”

Kelsey tapped her Rage-Red-French-Tipped nails on the green felt of the card table. Sighing, she glanced at the clock above the door. “Seriously, Steve, you need to decide, would you like another card or will you hold?”

Bleary-eyed, the longtime customer peered at her through the smoky haze of the casino. He returned his gaze to the two cards she’d dealt him and then what she’d dealt herself. Chewing the worn toothpick, he continued studying his hand.

Stretching her neck by turning her head to the left and then the right, Kelsey stifled a yawn. Graveyard shifts sucked. But she needed the money – worse than she needed sleep or even food. Top that off with the fact that she didn’t have to be at home with her parents and graveyard turned out to be tolerable.

The pit boss
, Todd, caught her eye, arching his eyebrow and tilting his head toward the break room.

Shaking her head, she
looked away. Damn idiot had been trying to get into her pants since she’d returned to work for her dad. He didn’t take hints well either. She’d take a damn break when she was good and ready.

Steve cleared his throat and tapped the felt surface twice – hard. “I’m ready.”

With a nine of diamonds and a ten of spades, Steve wasn’t making the best choice. She flipped the ends of her thick, straight black hair over her shoulder. As many times as Kelsey had been warned about coaching the customers, she muttered. “Steve, think about it. The odds are not in your favor. I think foldi—”

She froze, staring at the double-door entrance.

She’d know that damn cocky-ass-too-good-for-anyone stance anywhere. Recovering quickly from a memory from her past, Kelsey glanced down and slapped another card onto Steve’s. “Oh, too bad, Steve, a four. Well, I guess you’re out for the night. I’m done, too.” She slid her cards to the side, held up her hands palms down with fingers splayed and turned them over and then back. One hard and fast rule of the industry, show your hands to prove you take nothing with you or bring anything to the table. Security cameras watched everything.

Stepping out of the dealer box inside the table, she jerked a
nod toward the pit boss. Hitching his belt under the overbearing stomach commandeering the majority of his girth, Todd sauntered toward her. Taking his sweet time.

When he reached the table beside Kelsey’s, about six feet away, she declared. “I’d like to switch to roulette, Todd. I’m burnt
out on twenty-one.”

Nothing could keep her from glancing at the doors.

Ronan had disappeared. She spun in place, her dark hair whirling around her. Everywhere she looked only confirmed her location, a reservation casino. Rundown, tired truck drivers with stained ball caps and worn-out flannel shirts slumped over card hands, defeat in their blood shot eyes. Even at three in the morning, seating availability was at about fifty percent.

She spun back to face Todd, wild with confusion and fatigue.

Todd leaned against a pole decorated as a totem and half-shrugged, flicking a crumb from his too-short, paisley tie. “I don’t know, Kelsey. I’m the boss. You were supposed to go on break a while ago. Now, it might be too late. Why don’t you make it worth my while?”

Punching
her finger at the floor, Kelsey stepped toward him, her face tight. Through her teeth, she tried yelling with a whisper but hissed instead. “Dammit, Todd, that’s harassment. Change me out. Now.” All vestiges of fatigue disappeared as her adrenaline rose.

Glancing again around the immediate vicinity,
Kelsey then faced Todd whose mouth gaped open in aghast.

Rubbing her fingers over her makeup
-less eyes then down her cheeks centered Kelsey. She breathed in and out. “I’m sorry. I need a coffee break. I think I’m losing it. Over forty hours this week and there’s still three days to go.” She offered a half-hearted smile, desperate to get a damn break.

Previously absent,
Todd’s professionalism resurfaced and he straightened his back and adjusted his glasses. “Like I said, you’re about due for a break. Go ahead. I’ll find someone to spell you.” Abruptly, he turned away before she could thank him.

Had she imagined it? Ronan James hadn’t been in her thoughts for a while. Okay, bull crap. She hadn’t thought about him since right before her shift when she slammed back a shot in the bar. Being the owner’s daughter had some perks – even if they were few and far between.

Why did he have to show up right then? On one of the days when she felt like shit and had to look it? Her heart ached. She’d never stopped loving him and suddenly there he was? She must be going into shock or something, because her pulse sped up and she broke out in a fine film of perspiration.

Stop lying, Kelsey, you’re sweating like one of those truck drivers!

Leaving the pit, she crossed over the brick red carpeting and slipped into the discreet metal door marked with a small plaque reading, “Employees Only”. Concrete stairs ate up her footfalls as she bounded down the steps to the lower break room. She just needed to get her head on straight.

Ronan James. The man had a way of sinking his teeth
in and never letting go. In six years, one failed marriage, and more stress than she cared to think about, Kelsey still couldn’t get him out of her head… or heart.

Damn men, anyway.

Maybe she’d see if anyone was in her dad’s office. He always kept a bottle of spirits under his desk. He’d never know if she nipped some for her cup o’joe.

Or more…

~~~

Rubbing lotion in her hands as she made her way back to the pit, Kelsey didn’t even bother
scanning the place. Why should she? She didn’t care about the twilight regulars and her vision from before had been a hallucination manifested from long nights and days with little to no sleep. She’d been there more than once.

She
curved her lips reassuringly at Todd when she let herself through the small wooden gate separating the gamblers from the dealers. “Okay, thanks, I needed that. Where do you want me?”
Please, roulette.
Nobody stayed for long at the table and regulars hated it. There was no “skill” and it was all chance. Poor fools. All gambling was chance. Or house tipping the scales. Hell, Kelsey could’ve sworn her dad weighted the wheel, but she’d never been able to prove it.

Come on, roulette.

“How about roulette? You mentioned you wanted it earlier. Plus, Candy is getting bugged by a few regulars and she’s too nice to tell them where to stick it.” He glanced at his clipboard, maintaining a bland expression. “We both know you’re good at telling guys where to shove it, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer but turned to yell at another card table. “Hands down, count the call.”

Kelsey shrugged. He’d picked up on her cues at least.

She tapped Candy’s shoulder, just beneath her bobbed blonde hair highlighted with a pink swath. “Girl, I’m taking your place. Talk to Todd about where you’re going, ‘kay?” She backed up as Candy did the same hand clearing with the cameras and stepped away.

Inside the square beside the long table, Kelsey shot a cool smile around to the five men who eyed her chest in the slightly lower button-up shirt and black vest – the female dealer uniform. A man on the end nudged his friend and murmured loud enough for the table to hear. “Hank, this one’s got boobs and she’s the real deal.”

Oh, fun.
Drunk-perverted-bigots. Her favorite kind. She arched her eyebrow. “I’ve got boobs that are the real deal? As opposed to what’s in your pants?”

Over the loud guffaws shooting around the table, Kelsey calmly said. “Make your bets, gentlemen. I don’t wait long.” She shifted her stance and watched as they placed chips on different squares and numbers. She didn’t really care what they did or bet on. She didn’t like bastards
who tried to make her feel less than what she was. While she was of the proud Salish tribe, they were lowly unknown-origin-bastards, not fit enough to lick her shoes. Her grandfather was an elder of the tribe and they were what? Drunks.

Ignoring the fact that she drank a lot, Kelsey at least was able to admit to herself that she’d never let them know
she begrudged them their white skin and pale eyes. Her life would be extremely different, if she’d only been born with different genetics.

“All bets in.” She spun the wheel and dropped the ball.

Quietly, the man who had made his rude comments tapped the wooden side rail as the ball whirred round and round. He spoke as if just making a random comment. “Red-skinned bitches can get their mouths sewn shut, if they’re not careful.” His eyes burned with loathing. “Isn’t that how you savages like it? Rough?”

From behind him, a dark velvety voice made everyone at the table freeze. “Threatening cowards can have their balls cut off, if they’re not careful.”

The man spun, facing the mirage Kelsey could have sworn she’d concocted. But there he was. His shoulders broad, his jaw hard.

His eyes.

His damn eyes!

Even remembered every night in her dreams, they captivated her.

Even in the dim lighting of the casino and under the protection of the wide brim of his hat, his eyes exuded a magnetic resonance that pulled at her insides. Her heart pumped a little faster and moisture licked at her palms.

Damn.

“You need something, mister?” The bigot balled his fists at his sides, pushing his butt on the table.

Ronan
lifted his chin once, eyeing the man like a pile of dog shit. “Yes. I need you to get the hell out of here.” He leaned forward, into the man’s personal space. The brim of Ronan’s hat touched the man’s forehead. “Tell you what. You leave… now… and I won’t chase your ass with my pistol. Do you understand me?” So much more than threats passed between them. A covenant of what would come. For good measure, Ronan’s weapon peeked from the inner belt under his suit coat.

The man didn’t cast a glance toward
his friends. He darted from his spot to the doors.

Kelsey didn’t spare another thought for him. She watched Ronan claim the
now-empty position, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

But he didn’t – at least right away.

He studied the wheel. Calculated the varying bets. Eyed the other gamblers.

And then finally, after what could have been three lifetimes, his eyes met hers. And his lips curved into
that damn smile that had melted her underwear way back when. “Kelsey Redbird. Some exciting job you have.”

She lifted her chin.
Hell would melt her shoes before she’d admit she was shocked he was there. She wet her lower lip and drawled. “If you only knew.”

Oh, but
Ronan did know. Of course, Kelsey would be hotter than when they’d dated. She’d grown into her thin height with soft, molded female curves. The cinnamon tone of her skin glowed in the low lighting. Damn woman even had her hair down the way he’d always liked, the dark edges of her layers flipping here and there.

If Ronan weren’t careful, he’d remember how much he’d wanted her, loved her, needed her.

He had fiddled with a few chips he’d bought while waiting for her to return from what must have been a break.

He was so glad he’d waited.
Ronan couldn’t look away from the almond shape of her dark eyes and thick lashes. Everything about Kelsey screamed woman, especially her strong Native American heritage his parents had objected to.