Joker's Wild (Vegas Underground 5)

I don’t know—it’s too intimate. Or too emotional. It’s just not something I ever want to do.

But yeah, I want to kiss her. Right fucking now.

“Are you serious?” she croaks.

Serious about claiming that mouth, yeah.

I flash a wad of cash. “I’m gonna follow you around like your goddamn sugar daddy. Let’s see how fast you can spend my money.”

She starts walking, her silky hair swinging behind her. She tosses a look over her shoulder at me and I’m thrilled to see a playful light in her eyes. Mission accomplished. “Is there a bonus involved if I spend it before the fifty minutes are up?”

I shrug, noncommittal. “There might be other stipulations.”

Merde. I didn’t mean to start throwing sexual innuendos out, especially ones that make her sound like a whore, but she seems to like it, tossing her hair again with a smirk as she struts off.

She beelines it for a jewelry store and I smile. Clever girl. She knows she could spend the whole amount in one stop there. I’m all for it, if that’s what she wants, but I also think she could use some practical shit, like a new pair of boots or a jacket. I glance around at the shops, to take in what they have. There’s a boutique shoe store, and a couple clothing places.

I saunter after her into the jewelry store where she’s already leaning over the glass cases. There’s light in her face again, which eases the tension in my chest. She steals a glance over her shoulder at me, like she’s making sure I’m not tricking her or making fun.

I lift my chin and raise my brows as if to say, “are you going to do it or not?”

She has a smile as she turns back to the case. She tries on a bunch of rings. I watch for a while to see what she likes, then walk around the store and look myself. There’s a beautiful pink gem, emerald cut, set in 18K gold. It costs a little over two grand. I ask the woman behind the counter to bring it over to Desiree to see if she likes it.

She looks over at me in surprise when it arrives, then slips it on her finger and stares at it. “What is this gemstone?” she asks the attendant.

“Morganite. It’s a cousin to emerald and aquamarine. It looks good on you.”

“It does,” I agree. I don’t know why I picked it for her—it’s not like she’s a baby pink kind of woman. Maybe because it’s both unique and stunning—like her.

Desiree looks from her finger to me, back to the attendant. “I’ll take it.” Her shoulders are thrown back, chin high.

I love her decisiveness. I pull out my wad of cash and count out 23 hundred dollar bills. “Does it fit? Do we need to get it sized for you?”

She twists it around her right ring finger. “It fits perfect.”

I wink at her.

Cristo—have I ever winked in my life? I seriously doubt it. I’m not the winking type. That would be Stefano, my slick-talking youngest brother.

The clerk gives me my change, slips an empty ring box in a bag with the receipt, and hands it to us. “Enjoy.”

“Seven hundred to go,” I murmur to Desiree as we leave. “You like shoes?”

“I love shoes.” There’s color in her cheeks as we walk out—not a blush, just a flush of excitement. Desiree is definitely thriving on the retail therapy. Good. I may lack many qualities—manners, kindness, hands unsullied by blood, heart darkened by violence and pain, but I do have money. I’m not stupid enough to think I can buy her, but at least this one day I can give her something.

* * *

Desiree

I should be ashamed of myself.

I am ashamed of myself. I shouldn’t be getting turned on by a mobster buying me a giant rock for my finger.

It’s my kid’s birthday, he’s spending it somewhere without me. Hopefully he’s happy and safe and comfortable with his dad. Abe was never a bad dad. Never mean, or abusive or even too neglecting. I’m sure Jasper is safe and warm and fed. I imagine he’s going to kindergarten somewhere—I sure hope he’s in school, anyway.

But he sure as hell never bought me anything. He was a split it down the middle kind of guy right from the beginning. And once we got married, I always paid our bills, even when I was working my ass off to get through nursing school. He worked construction and spent his money on beer, and pot and eating out at greasy restaurants with his buddies.

Well.

Ashamed or not, it’s a fact. My panties got damp when Junior pulled out that roll of money and spent over two grand on this ring. It feels heavy on my finger, catches the light when I swing my arms as I walk.