All In: Paying His Way (Gambling With Love) Read Free Page B

I was so busy gawking at him, it takes several seconds for his words to seep into my fantasy hazed mind. Especially when I’m met with his flawless, sculpted face. His clean-shaven jaw makes him look younger than the near thirty years old he must be, and his plump bottom lip sticks out further than the top, like he’s permanently pouting, just begging to be kissed. Dark, nearly black eyes stare back at me with an intensity that steals my breath, and his long, black lashes and high cheek bones take him from handsome to beautiful.
    “Excuse me?” I eventually ask when I recover from the stunning perfection before me. Of course I always thought Jason was attractive. It was one of the first things I noticed about him in high school. But compared to Jordan, Jason’s a lost, juvenile boy, while his oldest sibling is most definitely a confident man. One that’s starting to piss me off with his bossiness, but he’s an extremely sexy man who can get away with being an ass.
    “You’re not staying here,” he says curtly with his brow furrowed.
    “Um, yes, I am. I’ve lived here for four months, and it’s not that bad,” I say defensively, crossing my arms over my chest. It’s at that moment when I realize I’m in a thin t-shirt with no bra that barely covers my boy short panties. What the hell? Why didn’t I put on clothes before I answered the door? Most likely because I’m running on five hours of sleep that wasn’t all consecutive. Camden’s going through a four-week-old growth spurt, and my milk jugs can’t keep up production fast enough to make him happy.
    “No, you’re not. You’re coming to stay with me until...does Jason know? Is he paying child support?”
    First off, what the hell? He wants me to stay with him? He’s nuts, because sleepwalking into his bed and molesting him at night would be a very real possibility. And as for the other questions, well, here we go.
    “I told Jason before he left,” I admit, taking a seat on the couch and pulling my legs up to cover them with my shirt.
    “You did?” Jordan asks. He hesitates before sitting on the opposite side of the sofa, probably because it's questionable as to whether or not the brown plaid piece of heavily used furniture will crumble under his body weight.
    “I did. And his response was, and I quote, 'That's a pathetic attempt at trying to get me back. We're done.'" Yes, Jason had been drinking and was likely high at the time, but he left a few weeks later and I haven’t heard a peep from him. I was crushed; but after six months, I’ve forgotten about him. Mostly. Now I only think about him every time I look at his son that’s a tiny clone of him.
    “That worthless dipshit,” Jordan mutters, squeezing his temples and massaging them with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m gonna kick his ass.”
    “I’m done with him,” I blurt out. “He doesn’t want Camden or me, and I don’t want to deal with him anymore. Jason has…issues, and I don’t want him hurting Camden when he gets old enough to remember him.”
    “He deserves to know, and you deserve to have him help you financially,” Jordan says when he levels me with his dark, no-nonsense stare.
    “No. I don’t want anything from him, and definitely not his money,” I declare.
    “Fine. I won’t tell him, at least for now, on one condition,” Jordan says, his eyes darting around the sparsely decorated room.
    “What's that?” I ask curiously.
    “You let me help you. You take my money without argument, and I’ll…fuck, I won’t say anything to Jason until he comes home.”
    “I don’t need your money.”
    “Yes, you do, Maggie. If not for yourself, then for your baby. What were you trying to buy at the grocery store today?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
    Shit. He had me there. Today’s just the fourteenth of the month; but after paying rent, electricity and buying two weeks’ worth of groceries, I’ve gone through May’s welfare payment. As if it