Innuendo. Crystal Green

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СКАЧАТЬ of the bets and winnings casually put the notepad behind his back.

      “I’ve told you,” Gordon said, pointing at the cards, “no gambling here.”

      Eyes wide, Kyle grinned, holding up his hands with the undealt cards still in them. “Who sees any money or poker chips, Gordie? We’re playing for fun.”

      Gordon bristled, mostly because the nickname “Gordie” was beneath him. He stiffly walked away, his lips pursed.

      Kyle and his comrades laughed as he finished dealing and the waiter took the scratch pad out again. One of the players, the only waitress on staff, verbally anted up while the amounts were recorded.

      “Murphy,” she said in a deep smoker’s voice, “you’ve got to tell your cousin to kiss up more to Gordon.”

      “Ah, Murphy doesn’t know the meaning of ‘kiss’ these days,” Kyle said, arranging his cards. “The poor boy hasn’t had any tail in—what is it now, Murphy? A millennium?”

      At the keen reminder, pent-up steam whistled through Murphy’s veins. It’d been a few months, all right—ones that he’d tried to help pass with long days at the firm and the consolation prize of ambition.

      Frustrated, Murphy finally stood and sauntered to the card table, glancing over another player’s shoulder. The waiter motioned for Murphy to keep his spot while he ran to the john. It was understood that he was trusting levelheaded Murphy to play out his hand without going overboard.

      “Kyle’s going to grow up one day,” Murphy said, assuming the seat, “and leave the playground mentality behind.”

      His cousin held up a finger. “Youth is wasted on those who don’t realize they’re gonna get old real quick.”

      As Murphy got rid of two cards, he looked at Kyle. Looked at him closely.

      They could’ve come out of the same womb, he and his cousin. People often commented on how much they resembled each other, even down to their athletic builds and their low voices. But they were so different it spun Murphy’s head around. Only two years separated them—Kyle was twenty-seven and he was twenty-nine—but it felt like a lifetime.

      Oddly enough, Murphy kind of envied Kyle his outlook—his carpe diem nature and big dreams. Trouble was, Kyle never did anything to reach his potential, and that’s where Murphy stopped wishing he could be just a little more like his cousin.

      “So, tell me, genius,” Kyle said, dealing the rest of the cards out, “you coming out with us after work tonight or what?”

      Murphy kept a smile to himself when he saw that he’d gotten a straight flush. “Got things to do.”

      “Right, researching some case or another for the underdogs of justice.” Cocky as ever, Kyle laid down three jacks. He addressed the other waiters. “I think Murphy just needs to be shanghaied outside his brain long enough for the girls to fall at his feet.”

      Unbidden heat growled deep inside Murphy. The agony of needing to be inside a wet, warm woman clawed and burned.

      He finally laid out his cards, leaning back in his chair again. Kyle’s face flushed at his cousin’s victory, a muscle in his jaw ticking. But then, after pushing aside the split second of tension, he laughed.

      “Just like always,” he said, “Murphy’s the man.”

      When Kyle sent him one last glance, Murphy could read everything in it, just as if Kyle was revealing a hand on the table: competitiveness and the longing of a young kid who’d followed Murphy around worshipfully while they’d grown up on the pavements of the Sunset District.

      Murphy held his cousin’s gaze for a moment before Kyle shook his head then glanced away.

      Why did it have to be like this between them? What was this intensity that had defined their relationship since Kyle and his sisters had lost their parents and moved in with Murphy’s family so many years ago?

      He wished things could change. A lot of things, starting with having to wake up early and go to the firm.

      Little did he know that when the head waiter came over to tell Kyle that he had a phone call on the main line, Murphy’s wishes would be answered.

      Just not in the way he expected.

      2

      IT WAS FRIDAY NIGHT, and Tam’s stomach churned with nerves as she sat in a Mandarin-inspired lounge in North Beach, waiting for Kyle Sullivan. A hard-edged song flavored with Chinese lyrics rose above the clatter of an ever-growing crowd as people poured into the red, dragon-studded room.

      “He’s still not here,” Tam said into her cell phone.

      On the other end of the line, Danica’s calm voice soothed her. “It’s not seven o’clock yet. You’ve still got ten minutes, so don’t sweat it.”

      Knowing she was right, Tam tugged nervously at her outfit. She’d chosen to wear a flowy black tunic with a raised collar. The sleeves were long, wide, dramatic in their flare, her pants tight and black and mostly covered by a large scarf tied at her hips and covering her rear. The boots were her favorite part, a stretch of leather that came to above her knees—artistic in a pirate kind of way. She wondered if Kyle would like her clothes, if they made a statement, announcing her creative side. If they would run the usual interference for her tonight; provide the usual distraction.

      Or maybe he’d think they were dopey. Maybe her even being here was dopey. A mistake. Yup, she’d made a big mistake calling this guy, getting all dressed up and going out on the town. Sure, he’d been amused by the whole business-card-in-The-Boot story when she’d called him, and he’d been very charming on the phone, but…Tam’s nerves fluttered.

      Okay, he’d been downright seductive, with his low, slightly lilting tone, his teasing banter. In Tam’s mind, she’d already built him up to be a sex god, a carefree soul who mirrored the person she imagined herself being. As they’d small-talked, her skin had warmed with anticipation.

      Had she finally found a guy who’d be on her same wavelength, even if it was for just a lighthearted, confidence-inspiring fling?

      An actual date, she kept thinking. I told him I was looking for a good time. That means I might actually get to feel a man’s hands on me again….

      She blew out a breath.

      “You just relax,” Danica said. “That’s exactly what I’m doing, waiting for my workaholic lawyer here at the bar in Rubicon. Spiffy, huh? He insisted on paying for dinner here. Got to be pretty well off—not that I’m shallow enough to have that be a prime requirement or anything. Still…bonus!”

      Tam couldn’t help laughing at her friend’s bubbly nature. “I just hope we don’t end up on my couch at midnight, eating from a tub of Rocky Road and telling each other war stories.”

      “Good times, that’s all that’s in store for you. Wait. This might be him. I think he sees the red rose I told him I’d have.”

      At the mention of the “marker”—a symbol that would allow one blind date to recognize the other—Tam clutched hers, too. She’d told Kyle Sullivan that she’d be holding СКАЧАТЬ