She was as easy to read as a book…at least to Easton anyway. Ash loved to win, and her entire body showed her hand, from the upright posture to the tiny smirk that tugged the corner of her lips.

“Something made his day worse for the wear.” Easton couldn’t help the humor in his voice.

“Sounds like the men in town met their match today, pizza boy.”

Easton rolled his eyes at the newest nickname she’d found for him that evening. Ash had tried several on for size. “I liked ‘traffic cone’ better,” he said.

Unlike his sister, Easton’s cards were crap, but he didn’t fold. Rick’s eye kept drifting down to his hand, then sliding away, a tell—if a subtle one. Easton wasn’t going to give his money away, but it was hard not to stay in an extra round for the guy. Just because Rick was in a relationship with Lana didn’t mean he was well-off. The pool hall wasn’t making ends meet and hadn’t for a long time now. One day, Rick would open to tourists, but that day wasn’t there yet. He was pretty certain Rick lived off cereal and sheer grit.

“Two pairs.” Rick laid down his cards.

“I’ve got nothing.” Dropping his hand on the table, Easton leaned backward with a grunt.

“Three aces. Read ’em and weep, boys.” Sweeping the chips over to her side of the table, Ash gloated, “One of these days, you’ll learn not to play with the master.”

“One of these days, you’ll learn to win without rubbing it in.”

She made a face at him, the same face she’d been making behind their parents’ backs since they were toddlers. Since no one was looking, Easton indulged himself in the same, adding a tongue sticking out. Hearing his twin’s peal of laughter was totally worth whatever lack of dignity his already-bruised pride had suffered today at the hands of a stranger.

“Hey, Easton,” Rick said in his quiet voice. “You know anything about this film crew that’s running around up here?”

“Not as much as he’s about to.” Ash was almost singsonging.

She looked so happy, Easton was immediately suspicious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ash smirked at him, pulling a file folder out of her bag. “Dad wanted me to give you this. A job came through, passed on to us by referral. They didn’t want to step on your turf. Here’s the paperwork. Three climbers want you to take them up Mount Veil. They don’t have a lot of experience, but Dad accepted the job. You know how he is when people want to see his baby.”