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he’s hitting, but not on me. I pass him his card. “Um, not much.”
    Jaeger is here to flirt with Gen. There’s nothing to worry about. I am not cheating on Eric.
    “You up for experiencing a Tahoe sunrise tradition?”
    Sounds promising. Jaeger, or it could be Mason, probably wants to see Gen tonight and Jaeger’s checking in with me because she and I are a package deal. I’m thinking champagne on the beach … he has skills, if this is how he plays it with her.
    “I’m game. What did Gen say?” I flip my hidden card and add a six to my seven. I deal myself another. King.
    Dealer busts.
    And just like that, my winning streak breaks.
    The frosted sisters lost as well, and have already abandoned the table. Jaeger’s eighteen is the winning hand.
    “She says she’ll go if you do.” He scrapes up his winnings.
    I search his expression, but he’s not looking at me. All I see are the tips of his lashes, a full bottom lip, and a square jawline framed by broad shoulders. I can’t tell if he’s making sure I’m going so Gen feels comfortable, or if he wants me there. Which is stupid. It doesn’t matter whether he wants me there or not. Gen’s the available one.
    Why the hell am I thinking about this at all? I need to talk to Eric. “We get off at three. What time do you want to meet?”
    Jaeger shoves his chips into his pocket, and I’m staring at the corded muscles along his forearms again. Dammit! Can the guy wear something other than flesh-baring T-shirts? What is this, a strip club?
    “I’ll pick you up at the front entrance at three-thirty.”
    I force my gaze up.
    “Wear something comfortable.” His eyes dip, only for a moment—a glance that takes in my polyester uniform as if it were revealing. My uniform is the same one every dealer wears—unsexed—and it’s not attractive. But that glance was proprietary. And hot.
    Jaeger merges with the crowd and my pit boss hands me a new stack of cards. I focus on my kickass riffle shuffle and not the beautiful man striding away from my table.

Chapter Four
    “Fishing? You’re taking us fishing?”
    In the time it took us to grab food before the “sunrise tradition,” the sky turned from black to dark blue. Four fishing poles glint like spears in the predawn light of Jaeger’s truck bed.
    I scratch my head, trying to figure out what the hell these guys are thinking. This is not my idea of a good time. Was this Mason’s or Jaeger’s idea? I’m adjusting my assessment of their seduction skills.
    It’s getting close to five in the morning and we’re on a beach north of Stateline I’ve never been to. Small rowboats are moored at a narrow dock.
    Hello? Anyone hear of boats with engines? What are we, in the sixteenth century?
    My mood is pissy, but I’m freaking tired. And it’s cold out here.
    Jaeger lifts a box I assume contains tackle and grabs the fishing poles. I’ve seen people fish. I understand the requisite accoutrements. I just never thought I’d be using them in this lifetime. There’s a time and place to acquire fish—laid out on ice in the meat section of the grocery store is my preference.
    “Scared?” Mason raises a brow, his dimple in effect. He’s goading me?
    I cross my arms. “How hard can it be?”
    Jaeger is wholly focused on putting together the fishing gear. He’s not saying anything, but I think he’s aware I’m not excited about this. Could be the extreme animosity I’m giving off.
    Jaeger was vague when he invited me, and the two of them have kept the details of our adventure a secret until now. Sneaky.
    They walk to the water’s edge and untie the twin drowning contraptions from the dock, dragging them to shore.
    I glance at Gen, who’s watching intently. She looks at me, shrugs, and heads for the boats.
    Great. How am I going to find her a good guy if she doesn’t have the natural instincts to know when she’s being properly wooed? The Last Stop for a quick bite and a fishing trip are not what I consider