Luck of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #2)(32)

I pick up a stack of hundreds and hold it up to my nose, inhaling the familiar scent. “I like money. I’m not afraid to say it. Maybe it’s gauche, but who the hell cares?” I set it back on the table and grab another to organize them into stacks. “I remember the first big pot I ever won. I didn’t even bother to go home. I went straight to Alanna’s and dumped it on her kitchen counter, and she burst into tears because she thought I robbed a bank.”

Forge’s chuckle joins mine. “What did she say?”

“We have to get you out of the country.”

“That’s true love, right there.” Forge flashes a smile, and oh my God, he has dimples. Not even fair. “She was willing to smuggle you away to escape prosecution.”

I snatch up another bundle and try to erase the dimples from my mind. Easier said than done. I focus on the task ahead of me and keep the conversation light, because my emotions need a break from the whiplash of the last few hours.

“There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for me or Summer. We’re her life, which sometimes seems unfair, but I think that’s the way it was meant to be.”

“I have no doubt of that,” he says, pushing more of the money toward me. “I often wondered why Isaac took me under his wing instead of sending me off to social services after I healed up.”

I shoot another look at him. “Healed up?”

Forge’s smile disappears. “I had a rough childhood. It wasn’t a good time.”

“Your parents hit you?” Dread curdles in my stomach at the picture of a small boy with messy black hair and serious gray eyes dodging blows from an adult who should only love him.

“Not my parents. I didn’t know my father, and my mother left me with her brother and his wife. My uncle liked to drink and didn’t like kids. It wasn’t a good combination.”

He looks down at the cash in his hands and thumbs through the stack like he’s counting it. I can’t help but wonder how much it cost the strong and capable man he is now to admit that to me.

“I’m so sorry.”

He lifts his head, his expression neutral. “There’s no need to be sorry. If not for that, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

Even if he can brush it off easily, I can’t forget the picture of a battered boy. But he doesn’t want my sympathy. I know enough about the man to guess that. Just like I don’t want his pity for the things I had to do for Summer and me to survive. I’m proud of how I fought against the odds and won. No one can ever take that away from me, just like no one can take away the blows that forged him into the man he is today.

“Life does somehow seem to work in strange ways, even when we don’t understand why.” I say the words absently, but my mind latches onto them as soon as they leave my lips. Was I meant to end up married to this man? If so, why? And for how long?

While I’m grappling with these questions I can’t answer, Forge finishes stacking the money and pushes it toward me.

“I agree, to a certain extent. But if you want something, you have to earn it. Isaac taught me that.”

I nod in agreement. “I learned that early. No one in this world owes you a goddamned thing. At least, not if you grow up without parents like we did.”

It’s strange to think that’s one thing we have in common.

“How long were you on the streets, taking care of Summer alone?” He leans back in the chair and threads his fingers behind his head. His abs and pecs ripple with the movement, and I knock one of my piles over.

Looking down, I scoop it up and try to remember the question he asked. How long were we on the street?

“Long enough that it was a blessing to find someone who wanted to help us, even if I didn’t trust her.”

“I can’t imagine you trusting anyone easily.”

My gaze lifts to his. I focus on his face, and not how much I want to jump out of my chair and make myself at home on his lap.

Stop it, Indy. Pull it together.

“I slept next to Summer for months, worried that Alanna might turn out to be some kind of creep, even though my every instinct said that she was the real deal.”

“I’m glad you found her.”

“I’m glad you found Isaac.”

For a few moments, we stare at each other, and it feels like a bond snaps into place between us. We have common ground that I never realized. Forge isn’t just an arrogant asshole. He’s . . . real.

And that makes him even more dangerous to me.

I break our stare and bring my attention back to where it needs to be. The money. It’s the only thing I can count on for sure.

I do a quick mental tally. “Two point three million. Not too shabby.”

“Not too shabby, indeed,” Forge says as he releases his grip on his neck and sits straight. “What are you going to do with it?”

I tilt my head to the side like I have to consider what I’ve already decided. “Spend some. Celebrate a little. Because I like pretty things just as much as the next girl. Invest the rest. Make more money.”

With both elbows on the table and his hair falling into his eyes, he nods. “You’re a woman after my own heart. You have any investment plans?”

I purse my lips and pretend I’m considering rather than getting stuck on the woman after my own heart comment. “Mmm. I don’t know yet.”