linewalksyou:
Here’s how his hour went:
First, he folded that two of hearts and washed his bets ‘till the next deal. But it wasn’t ‘cause of the shit hand he’d been holdin’. It was because it’s Rodeo’s policy not to leave a table when he’s got money in the pot, and he knew he was gonna have to leave this table. Because that gout-fat Bushmills sausage don’t have any such policy, and Rodeo knew eventually the fella’s Irish whiskey would run through him and force him on a piss break.
He wasn’t wrong. Just before the dealer turned the river, the man got up and made a beeline for the bathroom– and Rodeo got up too, crossing the casino floor with his typical purposeful swagger.
Here’s the thing. He woulda let it all slide, odious as the motherfucker’s unwanted intrusion was, if it wasn’t for the shadow it had put on his lil cupbearer’s face. He’d watched the look of shame and embarrassment darken her big brown eyes and he had known absolutely, at that very moment, that the man who put that look there would have to pay for it.
So Rodeo followed the man into the bathroom and taught him a lesson he really oughta have already learned by his age. He didn’t go overboard or nothin’. The ol’ drunk’s got a weak enough constitution that Rodeo was aware he wouldn’t be able to take much of a beating. But he still got his nose cracked against the tile behind the urinal while he was unzipping for his piss, and with blood gushing from his nostrils he cowered and nodded as Rodeo told him, “you better run on outta here, and if you ever come back, best hope I don’t catch you. You ever see my face again, partner, it’s gonna be the last thing you see.”
Then, with that settled and done with, Rodeo sauntered on back to his table and threw in his blind for another round.
With only a two pair in hand by the last bet, Rodeo still managed to get the rest of the table to fold. By the time his Queen of Cups arrives, he’s up $840– as much as he promised her he’d be. It’s a sure thing their dinner won’t cost near to that much, not even if they ordered one of everything off the menu at Blue Hill, but it’s the flex that counts.
He’s right where she left him, like he never moved at all. Like he didn’t take a detour from raking the table to bust a man’s face while she was away. There ain’t a hint of that darkness when he twists in his seat to look to her, eyes just sunny as an unclouded day as they take her in.
She changed her clothes, she did her hair, and she’s got such a sweet and hopeful look about her… a stab of guilt pierces his gut, but it don’t carry up to his face. He’s real used to ignoring that voice inside, these days it’s locked in a redwood coffin and buried six feet down in his chest and any utterance it tries to make is swallowed up and lost to the grave. If it’s tellin’ him now that what he’s doing is wrong, well, it’s just too bad he can’t hear none of it.
“’Course I do, darlin’,” Rodeo smiles at her. He stands from his seat, a big hand coming up to touch to her elbow as he rises up beside her. His palms are rough and callused, his knuckles are split and bruised. But if he’s worried about what that might tell her, he doesn’t show it– instead he nods at the dealer and drops his hand from Acacia’s arm to sweep his chip jackpot into the bucket the dealer offers him for cash-out. Once he’s gathered his winnings he reaches for her again, tucking his arm behind her back, as greedy and bold as he pleases. He shakes the bucket of chips and nods his head towards the cashier’s cage. “Just gotta cash out. Hope you’re hungry, darlin’, ‘cause knowin’ I’d be earnin’ my chips for you made me a real industrious bounder, I’ll tell ya what. How about we buy out the whole dessert case at Blue Hill?”
He’s not concerned that she might know the cashier he hands his chips to when they reach the cage. He keeps his arm around her, and while the cashier counts out his winnings he looks down at her and lifts his brows, adding another question. “And how you feel about takin’ the ride over on my bike with me?”
.
True to form, Acacia is far too busy being pleased that Rodeo still wants to get a bite to eat to notice the old man is gone. Even if she did notice his absence, she certainly wouldn’t attribute it to Rodeo. The soft touch to her elbow is like a little spell, automatically shrinking her awareness down to him. His hand is warm and welcome against her skin. Acacia lets out a soft laugh as he shakes the chips, and god he sounds so sweet the waitress could almost believe him. He wraps an arm around her back, telling her that she’s probably not the first waitress he’s swept off the casino floor. Touch starved as she is, Acacia can’t imagine being distressed by the thought.
Why shouldn’t she let herself be swept away?
A stab of sadness hits her stomach but her smile stays bright. He’s been so sweet about everything, she can’t let it show. “The whole thing?” Acacia asks instead, eyes dancing at the thought. “That’s an awful lot of sweet.” While he finishes his exchange, she doesn’t say much more, not wanting to interrupt the ritual of exchanging chips for money. Instead, she leans into him just a little. She was a shy creature, but Rodeo’s ease was infectious. When Acacia looks up at him, her warm gaze is open and trusting. "I’ve never done that before,” and the admission can hardly be surprising. “It sounds exciting,” she answered, another beaming smile lighting up her face. “I’d really like that.” There was no getting around the fact that she’d like the excuse to wrap her arms around him, too. He’s been kind enough that like any trusting stray, she’d happily follow him anywhere.