Poker Posse 1: Looking at Rose Read Free Page B

to take care of this, you won’t make Miss Mabel’s card party this week or next week.”
    Viola Whittman nodded. “And you’d miss your own party.”
    Turning her attention to the battery connector and cable, Rose shrugged. “It’s not really a party, Mama. We talk about how our weeks went and pig out on pizza or whatever takeout one of us picks up.” Rose looked up in time to see her mother’s face tense and wrinkles crease her usually smooth brow.
    Concern and something that sounded like disappointment filled her mother’s voice. “You don’t go out?”
    With one hip on the grill of the car, Rose looked at her mother. “Mama, Helena wouldn’t be caught dead in the Fire Hose for fear of running into her daddy, and you can’t tell me you or your friends would be very happy if we decided to go to the Palace for some fun.”
    Her mother did exactly what Rose expected when she stiffened and shook her finger at her. “I best not hear that you and your friends are down at that…that…place.”
    “But they have an amateur night,” Rose teased.
    “I will not have you displaying yourself, prancing around with pasties so some stranger can stuff dollar bills in your thong.”
    Rose roared with laughter at the thought of her and her friends taking the stage at the strip club. Their mothers would glower at the male audience while the girls danced and peeled off clothes. “I can see you and Miss Mabel slapping wandering hands.”
    Viola couldn’t help but chuckle. “Betty Jo would be rewiring the sound system, while Lucy would set off the fire alarms.”
    She was laughing so hard, Rose had a difficult time fitting the fixed battery cable onto the post. “And Miss Rae—”
    Her mother groaned. “Lordy, Raelene would be up on the stage with y’all showing her Arabella the right way to bump and grind.”
    Rose didn’t doubt for one second that would be exactly what Ari’s mama would be doing. A final twist of the wrench, and she was finished. Still chuckling, Rose grabbed the bad connector, her tools, and the rag, and slammed the hood shut. “I can see her doing that, Mama. And Miss Mabel and Miss Lucy fussin’ her out with every beat.”
    Viola slid behind the wheel of her car and turned the key. The engine rumbled to life. Through the open garage door, Rose could see the streetlights had come on despite the lingering summer twilight.
    “Thank you, honey.” Viola smiled.
    Rose leaned down and let her mother hug her through the open window of the car. She pressed a kiss to her mom’s cheek. “Love you, Mama. Have fun with the ladies.”
    “You have some fun too. Talk to the girls. See about finding someplace fun to explore, even if you have to drive into Savannah.”
    Rose doubted any of her friends would be up for something like that tonight. “We’ll see.”
    Her mother pulled out of the garage and down the drive. As the door rolled noisily back into place, Rose turned her thoughts to Ibraham. She couldn’t see him in the Fire Hose, where all the firefighters, EMTs, and local sheriffs hung out. That would be like dropping a black panther in among puppies. Was he the kind of man to frequent a place like the Palace? And what would he do if she were to appear on stage. A performance meant only for him but done in front of dozens of curious onlookers?
    Heat stirred in her belly. Her breasts ached, and her nipples grew tight, pressed against her plain cotton bra. Between her thighs she could feel the tingle start. She cursed, tossing the tools and parts onto the workbench to be sorted later. She needed a shower. Now. But not a cold one. Nuh-uh, she had every intention of utilizing her fantasies to the fullest extent.
    If she was late to meet her friends, so what. She had the desserts. Chocolate smoothed all ruffled feathers.
    * * * *
    Viola Whitman sighed at the cards she held. Two of hearts. Eight of diamonds. A look at the community cards laid out in front of Betty Jo Lipton made it clear. She had a