T.J. whistled low. “Even I’ve got better sense than to joke about you cheating at poker, let alone openly accuse you of doing it.”
Nodding, Lane finished his beer and stood up. “Which room do you want me to take?”
“I’ve got six spare bedrooms,” T.J. said, following him toward the stairs. “Take your pick.”
As he climbed the steps to the upper floor, he knew as surely as the sun set in the west each night that T.J. was already dialing the phone to let their other four brothers know what was going on. But it was the first time the phone tree of sympathy had been activated because of him. And he didn’t like it one damned bit. He knew they would all be supportive and any advice they felt compelled to pass along would be out of concern for him. But he didn’t want to hear it. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
Unfortunately, he didn’t think there was anything they could do or say that would make the situation better anyway. Taylor had her mind made up and until she calmed down, the devil would be passing out ice water in hell before she listened to reason.
She’d been the same way about playing poker for the Lucky Ace. When he had learned that she didn’t know the first thing about poker, he’d tried to call off the game, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She had made up her mind that she could beat him and that was what she was determined to do. Dammit! The woman was way too stubborn for her own good.
Letting himself into the first bedroom he came to, Lane dropped his duffel bag on the floor, stripped off his clothes and headed straight for the shower. As he stood beneath the steamy spray, he closed his eyes and forced himself to put things into perspective. If he didn’t love her so damned much, he might be tempted to throw up his hands and call it quits. She overreacted to just about everything and when she believed she was right about something, she was as determined to see it through as a dog fighting over a juicy ham bone.
But it was that very passion that he loved the most about her. When she committed herself to something, she gave it 150 percent, whether it was cooking a gourmet meal or making love with him.
Turning off the water, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off. She might have won tonight’s hand, but he knew something about himself that she obviously didn’t. He could be every bit as stubborn as she was and he wasn’t about to give up on them so easily.
When he walked into the bedroom to stretch out on the bed, he stared at the ceiling. Even though he was still stinging from her lack of faith in him, he couldn’t stay angry with her. He could understand how the evidence against him had to have looked to her. Considering his history and the fact that he hadn’t told her about his past up front, he had to admit that it probably did appear that he had swindled her grandfather. Added to Taylor’s tendency to jump to conclusions, it would have taken a miracle for her not to find him guilty of everything she had first suspected him of doing.
As he lay there thinking about how much he loved her and trying desperately to come up with a way he could make things right between them, a plan started to take shape. He knew exactly what he could do to convince her of his sincerity and control the outcome of the insane situation they found themselves in. And there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he was going to get what he wanted.
Folding his arms behind his head, Lane smiled determinedly. He hadn’t expected to fall in love with her, had even tried to deny it was happening, but he was all in. He was going to do whatever it took to make her see they belonged together and she was just going to have to get used to it.
Nine
On Friday, when Lane arrived at the End of the Rainbow Casino, he went straight to Cole Sullivan’s private office. “Is everything ready for the game?” he asked.
“It’s good to see you again, Lane,” the casino manager said, rising to his feet to shake Lane’s hand. “The VIP room is ready and I have a dealer waiting to start the game as soon as Ms. Scott shows up.”
“Good.” Lane couldn’t wait to get started. The sooner they settled control of the ranch, the sooner he could sort out matters once and for all with Taylor.
“How have you been?” Cole asked as he pulled an envelope from his desk drawer.
“Pretty good,” Lane answered, checking his watch.
He hadn’t seen or talked to Taylor for the past several days and it felt more like they’d been apart for years. He missed her, missed holding her and making love to her.
After he had gone to T.J.’s the night Taylor had confronted him with his past, he’d spent the next three days coming up with a plan of action and how he intended to execute it. He wanted to talk to her, needed to hear her voice. He had even picked up the phone a couple of times and started to call her, but he’d decided against it for one very important reason: what he wanted to say to her wasn’t something a man told the woman he loved over the phone.