Stroke of Luck

The dice rolled to a stop. Two fours.

She watched wide-eyed as a big stack of chips was pushed Austin’s way. Quinn also won quite a bit.

“Nice, sweetheart,” Austin said. He pushed all his chips onto eight again.

Quinn pushed a tall stack of blues onto it, too. Several other players also jumped in.

She rolled again, worried that everyone would lose because of her. This time, a six and a four came up. Quinn was a winner again. He grinned and leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. The light pressure of his lips on her skin sent quivers dancing down her spine. He then turned back to the table.

“You know, I’m feeling really lucky,” Austin said.

To April’s horror, Austin pushed all his chips onto eight. Quinn laughed, then pushed all his chips there, too. There were a few whispers around the table, but as if everyone’s confidence in her was boosted by Austin’s bold gesture, several more stacks of chips were pushed into place on the eight.

April’s hand was trembling as she picked up the dice. She tossed them across the table, holding her breath as she watched. After the seemingly endless rolling of the small cubes, they landed in double ones, which she knew were called snake eyes. That couldn’t be good.

She glanced around the table in trepidation, but everyone just sat calmly.

She leaned in to Quinn. “I don’t understand what’s going on,” she whispered to him.

He gazed at her and squeezed her hand.

“It’s okay, baby. You keep rolling until you roll a seven. If you roll any of the numbers along the top there, that number wins. If you roll an eight, we win big.”

“So don’t roll a seven. I can keep rolling as long as I don’t roll a seven.” She kept repeating the words under her breath as she tossed the dice again.

The dice rolled and rolled. One landed as a four.

Please, please be a four.

But her gut clenched, fearing it would be a three. The extra seconds it took for the second die to stop seemed to take an eternity.

Then it came up two.

April sucked in a breath, staring at the huge pile of chips on eight.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she murmured to Quinn, her lip trembling.

He turned to her, his gaze warm and reassuring. “Baby, no matter what happens, it’ll be fine.”

She bit her lip. It was nice of him to say that. And, of course, he wanted her to be confident. But it wouldn’t be all right. If they lost all that money, she would feel responsible.

She shook the dice in her hand, the feel of the cool cubes jostling against her skin strangely soothing. Then she drew back her hand and tossed them hard. They bounced and ricocheted in opposite directions across the table in a lively dance.

One die turned up as a five. She jerked her head around to catch sight of the other die, but people were already gasping. Her stomach clenched.

Then a whoop went up, and she realized …

Oh, God! She’d actually rolled an eight!

Austin, with his face beaming, grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, lifting her off her feet. Elated, she clung to him, a smile spreading across her face. He squeezed her tightly, then spun around in a circle. She began to laugh in sheer exhilaration.

Then as he slowed and set her on her feet again, she became intensely conscious of her breasts pressed tightly against his hard chest and his thick, muscular arms tight around her.

Austin released her, but their gazes caught, and she saw heat blazing in his teal eyes. Her cheeks flushed, and she turned to the table again.

Then she realized Quinn was watching her, his expression unreadable.

“I won, too, you know,” he murmured, then pulled her into his arms in a hug that was less energetic, but far more intense. In his embrace, she felt completely owned by him. And not in a bad way.