Michael’s eyes met Thomas’s over the cards, held steady as he pushed chips into the pot. “Fifty. And fifty back. Call or fold.”

Thomas studied his opponent, then wheezed out a breath between his teeth. “I’ll give you this one,” he decided and tossed his cards down. Well?” he demanded when Michael scooped back the chips. “What did you have?”

When Michael merely smiled and began to stack his chips, Thomas hissed out another breath. “You bluffed me. I can see it. You didn’t have shit.”

“A man has to pay to see, Mr. Templeton.”

Eyes narrowed, Thomas leaned back. “Tommy,” he said. “When a man bluffs me cold, he ought to call me by name.”

“My deal.” Michael gathered the cards, shuffled. “Stud. Seven-card.” He grinned. “You in, Tommy?”

“I’m in, and I’ll still be in when you’re writhing on the floor and begging for mercy.”

Michael flipped in his ante. “A boy needs his dreams.”

Thomas let loose a laugh, then reached into his pocket. “Damned if I don’t like you, Fury. Have a cigar. A real one, not one of those girl smokes Byron puffs on.”

“Thanks, but I quit.” Still, he sniffed longingly at the clouds of smoke. “Anyway, those Cubans look too much like a dick.”

Josh choked on smoke, pulled his cigar out of his mouth. “Thanks, Mick. I’m really going to enjoy this now.”

Howling with laughter, Thomas slapped his hand on the table. “Deal the cards—and prepare to lose your shirt.”

During hour three, Michael took a pass and walked outside. He peed companionably with the dogs and watched the night-drenched sea.

“Hell of a spot, isn’t it?”

Michael looked back over his shoulder as Byron approached. “You sure picked one.”

“I was thinking I could put up a small stable there, at the edge of the cypress grove. Simple. Two stalls.”

“Two?”

“I figure solo’s lonely, even for a horse. I liked the look of that pinto mare.”

“She’s a sweetheart.” He tucked his tongue in his cheek. “You clear it with your wife?”

Byron’s eyes were mild and amused. “I know all kinds of ways around my wife. More, I assume than you do even after picking her up on Fisherman’s Wharf.”

“I was just rattling her cage. And yours.” He lifted his hands, palms out. “Never laid my hands on her. Hardly.”

Byron chuckled, shook his head. “I think we’ll just leave that particular door closed, but if you want to ride Josh about Margo, I’d find it entertaining.”

“I don’t want to have to fight him. He’s tougher than he looks. Loosened three of my teeth when we were twelve.” Michael checked them with his tongue. “And his old man’s liable to take bets on the outcome.”

“That’s the Templetons. They’ll bet on anything. Look at the way Kate, Margo, and Laura bet on the shop.”