I chuckle. I like a man who isn’t afraid to admit he’s scared. We are all scared of something: abandonment, sharks, clowns. Those might just be mine. “You can wait in the van if you need to.”
He frowns. “And let you wander through Vegas in the middle of the night by yourself? What kind of man does that?”
I’m caught off guard by his protectiveness. Hasanyoneever worried about me? When I was little, my mom told me to man up when I was scared. Even my grandmother, the only one who truly cared about me, always told me to be brave. She didn’t tolerate fear. Which may be how I acquired such a life philosophy.
“So your mom is here?” Trent asks, holding open the door to the casino for me.
I nod. “With her teenage boyfriend. I hope he brought his piggy bank.”
“You know a teenage dad would make coming home for Christmas more fun,” Trent says. “He might play Candyland with you. Maybe even Twister if you’re good.”
I stop walking. “Excuse me?”
He stops and turns around.
“Were you being sassy or funny?”
He raises his brows like he’s not sure. “Funny?”
I beam. “I approve.”
He shakes his head and starts walking again, without knowing who he’s even searching for.
The lightness leaves my chest. I’m fresh out of humor where my mother is concerned. She took my grandmother’s gold bracelet. Again. And it hurts this time as much as it did years ago.
When my grandma found out how bad her heart was, she sold the rest of her jewelry and handed me a check to use for her burial. But she saved that one gold bracelet for me with the promise that it would bring me good luck. My mom has always been offended about that.
That must be why she took the bracelet tonight. I took it off to shower, and forgot to put it back on. At least that’s what I thought. But when I went to get my stuff, it wasn’t on the bathroom vanity where it should have been. I never saw my mom wearing it at the bar though, so she must have stowed it in her purse until she ditched me.
I check my phone again for a response from her. Nothing. Typical.
I know my mom’s preferred games, but I don’t know Ricky’s. Young kids are usually attracted to bright and shiny things, though, so I stick around the slots.
“Have you ever gambled?” I ask Trent.
“All the time.” He smirks. “But only with my brothers.”
“What’s the most you lost?”
He brushes against me to dodge a scantily clad woman balancing an assortment of drinks. “We don’t always wager with money.”
“Color me intrigued.”
We pass a few more slot machines before Trent finally answers. “I don’t lose often. I make sure I can win, or I don’t engage. Sean makes it easy because he doesn’t care what he has to do if he loses. He just enjoys the game.” His voice drops for a split second before he clears his throat and continues, “Anyway, one time, I had to wear chain mail to school all day.”
“That doesn’t sound all that bad.”
“In high school?” He raises a brow. “I was all over social media. But that wasn’t as bad as when my grandma saw me.”
“Your grandma?”
“She thought I’d been overtaken by a devil, and she made me come with her to some weird witch coven thing where they tried to cast spirits from me. At one point they threw all kinds of spices at me. I felt like Hansel getting ready to be tossed in the pot. To this day, garlic powder makes me gag.”
“Your grandma sounds like a hoot.”
“She’s kind of a mystery. You’ll see.”
I’ll see? It takes me a moment to realize I’ll be meeting his grandmother for Thanksgiving—a holiday I invited myself to. I should feel ashamed that I don’t have a place of my own, but the desire to be included is all I can think about. To be a part of a family.
