ANTE UP (7-Stud Club Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  Also Available

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Excerpt – TAKE ME TENDER

  Excerpt – LIGHT MY FIRE

  Also by Christie Ridgway

  About the Author

  Also Available

  All In (7-Stud Club Book 1)

  No Limit (7-Stud Club Book 2)

  Ante Up (7-Stud Club Book 3)

  Slow Play (7-Stud Club Book 4), August 25, 2020!

  Almost Wonderful (Almost Book 1)

  Almost Always (Almost Book 2)

  Almost Everything (Almost Book 3)

  Almost Paradise (Almost Book 4)

  Take Me Tender (Billionaire’s Beach Book 1)

  Take Me Forever (Billionaire’s Beach Book 2)

  Take Me Home (Billionaire’s Beach Book 3)

  The Scandal (Billionaire’s Beach Book 4)

  The Seduction (Billionaire’s Beach Book 5)

  The Secret (Billionaire’s Beach Book 6)

  Light My Fire (Rock Royalty Book 1)

  Love Her Madly (Rock Royalty Book 2)

  Break on Through (Rock Royalty Book 3)

  Touch Me (Rock Royalty Book 4)

  Wishful Sinful (Rock Royalty Book 5)

  Wild Child (Rock Royalty Book 6)

  Who Do You Love (Rock Royalty Book 7)

  Love Me Two Times (Rock Royalty Book 8)

  Rock Royalty Boxed Set – Books 1-3

  One Look (One & Only Book 1)

  One Kiss (One & Only Book 2)

  One Night (One & Only Book 3)

  One Love (One & Only Book 4)

  Make Him Wild (Intoxicating Book 1)

  Make Him Want (Intoxicating Book 2)

  Make Him Stay (Intoxicating Book 3)

  ANTE UP

  7-Club Stud Book 3

  “A sizzling combination of heat and heart.” Barbara Freethy, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author

  Cooper Daggett enjoys playing the field, until he falls for a woman who doesn’t look at love as just a game…

  Winning a designer’s services in a community raffle doesn’t mean beautiful Willow Ray will rearrange Cooper’s life, right? Except then she’s in his home and in his workplace and in his head…can his heart be far behind?

  Willow wants a man and a family. Security and commitment. While Cooper has all the sexy charm in the world and was made for a thrilling one-night stand, she questions if there can be more. Because everybody knows you can’t re-make a dedicated bachelor into the forever man you need…unless love steps in with its own plan.

  Enjoy the 7-Stud Club! Seven poker night buddies who are very good with their hands…and are about to lose their hearts! Only great risk leads to great reward…

  The 7-Stud Club Series:

  All In (Boone & Gemma)

  No Limit (Eli & Sloane)

  Ante Up (Cooper & Willow)

  Slow Play (Maddox & Harper)

  Wild Card

  Smooth Call

  Dealer’s Choice

  ANTE UP

  7-Stud Club Book 3

  © Copyright 2020 Christie Ridgway

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  ISBN: 9781939286512

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Visit Christie’s website

  Meet up with her on Facebook

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  Sign up for Christie’s Newsletter

  Chapter One

  The raffle ticket burned a hole in Cooper Daggett’s pocket. His hand slid inside to yank it out, already prepared to claim the grand prize once it was announced over the loudspeaker. The fundraiser put on by the cops and firefighters at the city park was an annual summer event with sports and music as well as local food and drink for sale under the warm June sun. His brew pub, Fun & Games, was donating the proceeds from their beer booth to the community’s victims’ assistance fund. Other businesses were doing the same, selling ice cream, bakery items, burgers and chicken, as well as beverages that also included wine from a couple of nearby vineyards. Another moneymaking stream for the first responders’ chosen charity was the long roster of donated goods and services that were being raffled, and he’d had his eye on the grand prize all day—a gleaming Jet Ski.

  As he passed over a cup of a local IPA, Cooper could almost taste the salty wind on his tongue when he took his new personal watercraft on its initial outing on the Pacific. Or maybe he’d test it first at one of the Central California lakes a short drive from his hometown of coastal Sawyer Beach. Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t count his chickens before they hatched or some B.S. like that, but the truth was, he just didn’t lose.

  Everybody knew he was a very lucky man.

  Muffled swearing caught his attention, and he looked past the booth’s counter and the line of waiting patrons. A few feet away a pair of scrawny teenage boys dressed in generic surfer-wear—board shorts and ragged T-shirts—were engaged in a shoving match, each push more vicious than the one before. Damn. Not only were they polluting the family-friendly atmosphere, but Cooper surmised their brawl wasn’t about to end peacefully on its own.

  On a sigh, he vaulted over the waist-high barrier and pulled the two away from each other. They struggled under his controlling grasp, turning their aggrieved sneers on him. Beyond them, a pretty girl looked on, her expression alarmed.

  Right. Now he understood what this was about. Christ. How old could they be—fifteen? He was more than twice that and he’d never gotten worked up about a female to such an extent.

  When one of the boys tried to reach around and punch the other in the face, he shifted to thwart the blow even as he congratulated himself on the way he kept his own interactions with the opposite sex simple and…well, shallow.

  Fun and games was all he was after. Some would say it was all he was good for.

  Whatever.

  He wrapped his big hands around the back of the teens’ necks and perp-walked them in the direction of the nearby lemonade stand sponsored by the Girl Scouts. “Give these two something to cool off, will you?” he asked the child in a green vest peppered with patches and pins.

  The boys took the proffered glasses with little grace but Cooper opted to pay for the drinks instead of slapping them upside the back of their heads. “You know, that girl won’t like either one of you if you embarrass her like that,” he advised.

  With twin withering looks, the boys sauntered off without a thank you for either the beverage or the wisdom, but each moved in a different direction, so he decided he’d won again.

  Shaking his head, he turned the way he’d come.

  “What was that all about?”

  Cooper glanced over to see his friend, Hart Sawyer, approaching on his left. “Hormones,” he said, shrugging. “Stupidity.”

  Without seeming to, he took a quick survey of his buddy, whose looks were the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome but included a desolate expression in his brown eyes. Not long ago, mere weeks before the scheduled wedding, Hart’s wife-to-be had unexpectedly died of a brain aneurysm.
Her loss had killed something in Cooper’s old friend, and their long-standing poker group shared worried looks at their weekly get-togethers. Cooper didn’t do more than that. What insight could he share?

  He’d never cared like Hart had cared for his Kim.

  Thank God.

  Loving someone and having no chance to be with that same someone was obviously hell.

  As they returned to the Fun & Games booth, he could see his trio of employees were busy handling a newly formed line of sweaty people queuing up for beer. “The sack races are over,” Cooper noted. “Everybody’s thirsty.”

  “And ready for more entertainment,” his friend said. “The mini ring toss and Velcro dart games are a good draw for you.”

  “It means more money for the victims’ fund.” That was the point, after all.

  “You know how to show people a good time, Coop.” Then Hart paused. “Speaking of good times…do you have room in your garage for that Jet Ski?”

  Cooper shot the other man a grin. “I’ve been mentally rearranging the space from the moment I bought my raffle ticket.”

  “One ticket,” Hart said, eyebrows rising. “You bought just one ticket.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’d call you an arrogant ass, but you are the guy who invariably finds hundred-dollar bills in the gutter and the last parking space in the best beach lot on Labor Day. Not to mention I have a side bet with Maddox that you’ll go home with that shiny baby.”

  “Mad bet against me?” Cooper asked in mock outrage. “Even after I took the big pot in poker two nights ago? Remind me to kick his ass next week too.”

  Then he bribed his old friend with a free twelve-ounce cup of Longboard Lager if the other man would help him cart off some of the empty kegs to his truck. Hart was halfway through the crowd on the way to the parking lot by the time Cooper took up his own burdens, hefting one empty container to his right shoulder and another to his left.

  A long, female-sounding cat call had him pausing mid-step.

  Over his shoulder, he caught sight of a familiar small blonde. His sister, Sophie. “Aren’t we against being objectified like that?”

  “Just sisterly approval,” she said, smiling. “You’re so strong, you’re so handsome—”

  “What do you want?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “What makes you suspicious? You know you’re my favorite older brother.”

  “Bullshit. Our big brother Beau is the family’s favorite.”

  “Cooper—”

  “Out with it.” He started striding away and she scurried to catch up with him.

  “Mom and Dad’s anniversary party.”

  “I said I’d be there. But you should be haranguing golden boy Beau, to make sure he isn’t going to be in the midst of making some big money deal in Geneva or Reykjavik or Canberra.”

  She waved a hand. “It’s on his calendar and his assistant is scrupulous about such things.”

  Cooper grunted. From all accounts his brother’s life was an endless series of meetings and power lunches and business dinners that kept his nose to the grindstone for fourteen-hour days.

  Sophie continued. “Our bash will be a nice cap to Dad’s retirement at the beginning of the year and a warm welcome home after their five-month around-the-West tour in the new RV.”

  “I can’t believe Dad would survive five days let alone five months with nothing to do but enjoy himself.” Like golden son, like father, Randy Daggett had labored behind a corporate desk his entire working life, arriving early and staying late, certain it was the only path to personal and financial success.

  “Maybe he’s turned over a new leaf.”

  Cooper grunted again.

  “Anyway,” Sophie said, “they’ll both be impressed with the success you’ve made of Fun & Games in the time they’ve been gone. Just shy of a year old and more popular every day.”

  “Soph.” He gave his sister the side-eye. “Mom gives out trophies for coloring inside the lines. Dad will never think much of any of my employment or business choices.”

  They’d made it to his truck where he stowed the empty kegs and thanked Hart for his assistance, then watched, confused, as Sophie sketched an awkward hand at the other man that effectively waved him off from the usual cheek-kiss he’d seemed about to bestow. His little sister had known his friend for years—he and all the others of the poker crew were like brothers to her—but now something had gone wrong between them?

  As Hart strode off, Cooper looked between the man and Sophie. “Umm…”

  “Okay,” she said in a brisk tone, cupping her hand around his left elbow and starting to set a new course. “We’ve got to check this out.”

  He dug in his heels, because she was dragging him in the opposite direction of his booth and the main stage. That raffle ticket was starting to tingle inside his pocket again, distracting him from whatever bees were buzzing in his sister’s head. “Wrong way, Sophie. They’re going to select the raffle winners any minute.”

  “We have a few left,” she said, tugging on him again. “I need you to check out the classic rock covers band playing on the other side of the soccer field. If you like them, we can see if they’re available for the party.”

  “I really want to claim my prize as soon as it’s announced,” Cooper protested.

  His sister dug in a pocket of her jeans and pulled out a long strand of tickets that she dangled in front of him. “I get it. I hope to win too.”

  “Not the Jet Ski,” he declared. “That’s mine.”

  “There are other items,” she said, making a face. “Spa treatments, gift certificates for restaurants around town, even things like landscaping design services through Eli’s nursery.”

  Eli King, another long-time pal and poker regular, who ran his family’s garden center. “I live in a condo. I don’t have a need for fertilizer and shrubs. I have a need for that Jet Ski.”

  “Trying to impress a new woman?” She was still pulling him along.

  “I don’t have a new woman.” He’d been so busy getting the brew pub up and running, that he’d been on a dating hiatus. “At the moment I’m spending most of my evenings with a commercial dishwasher. But she’s beginning to bore me.”

  “So you’re trying to find someone new?”

  He shook his head. “And anyway, I don’t need a damn Jet Ski to attract female companionship.” Time had been what he’d lacked and with the recent hiring of a full-time manager, he hoped that he’d freed up a decent amount for himself. While he’d surprised himself by how much he enjoyed running his latest venture, the Daggett habit of eighty-hour work weeks was not his style.

  Sophie remained latched to him like a leech, so he gave in and let her steer him to the venue set up to showcase local bands. They listened to a few songs, “Born to be Wild” and “Rock You Like a Hurricane,” and he agreed with his sister that they’d be a good fit for the anniversary bash. They got a card from the drummer who also handled the bookings, then made their way back to Raffle Central. Sophie saw a friend and left him beside the glossy red personal watercraft that he couldn’t wait to bring home. Just looking at it made his blood race and his heart flutter.

  Maybe this was what it felt like to be in love.

  Smiling at the thought, he found himself flanked by Hart and that nay-sayer, Maddox Kelly. “He’s practically drooling,” said Hart to Mad.

  “Can you blame me?” Cooper ran his palm over the sleek finish, warmed by the sun. What had Hart called it? Oh, yeah. Shiny baby.

  At that moment, the emcee, one of the fire captains, Cooper thought, started fishing raffle winners from an enormous fishbowl. He didn’t pay much attention as winners were announced—entrants had written their names on the backs of their tickets—knowing that his Jet Ski would be presented last. Instead, he enjoyed a little fantasy of being out on the water, the sun beaming down on his shoulders, the powerful Jet Ski between his legs, and a faceless female tucked against his back. He imagined reaching behind him to pat the chee
k of her ass and then stroke her smooth flank, the skin revealed by the skimpy bottoms of a bikini.

  Life was good when you made things simple and avoided complications. Water, sun, sex.

  There was squawk of the microphone and then his name barked out through the loudspeakers.

  Cooper jerked to attention, blinking as he emerged from his reverie. “What?”

  Mad snickered. “You didn’t get the ski, dude. You won something else.”

  Cooper’s eyebrows drew together as disappointment and disbelief washed over him. “Something else what?” He looked around, trying to orient himself to the fact that he wasn’t the victor in this contest after all. How could that be? He was the lucky guy, everyone knew that. “I won something else? What?”

  The emcee called his name again and he threw up an arm, indicating his presence.

  “Great, Cooper,” the firefighter on stage said. “You can claim your prize from this generous lady over here.” He gestured toward a young woman standing on the stage.

  Cooper stared, arrested by the sight of her. She had brown hair with golden highlights surrounding her face. Her eyes, he couldn’t exactly tell their color from this distance, were surrounded by thick lashes. There was a pink cast to her cheeks, like she didn’t enjoy the attention.

  Her mouth was pouty perfection and he couldn’t look away from it.

  Something moved in his chest. Residual disappointment at the Jet Ski that wasn’t to be? And there was an odd little thrill in his gut that might be cataloged as part anticipation, part concern. Weird.