She scrunched her nose. “I’ll bet.”
Chaco raced past her, heading straight for her favorite cushion and the koala bear chew toy she loved so much Maisie had bought her two, one for out here and one for inside. Yeah, she was a sucker when it came to them.
Ein whined a little in Maisie’s arms. She gave him a little squeeze and an admonishing look and set him down. He threw a final grumpy stare Jack’s way, seasoned by a low growl, then headed for his favorite bed. Chaco abandoned her perch to curl up at his feet.
Maisie shot Jack a look. But there was no hint of I-told-you-so in his expression. There was only heat. He held out a hand. “Shall we?”
Even though it was her house, and part of her was tempted to remind him of it, she shut the door to the clubhouse and took his hand.
They walked back to the house like that, hand in hand, almost like they were a couple instead of…well, whatever this was. It had no business feeling this nice. So Maisie turned to him with a wicked glint in her eyes.
“Want to play strip poker?”
He grinned back. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Four
Jack had played strip poker once at a wild after-hours work party, back when he was busing tables at a chain restaurant his senior year of high school. No good had come out of it. He’d gotten drunk off his ass and lost everything but his underwear. But this was a different situation. Best-case scenario, he’d watch Maisie take her clothes off piece by piece, although, to be fair, there weren’t many pieces. Worst-case scenario, he lost all of his. He couldn’t think of a downside.
“You know how to play poker, right?” she asked with a sly grin as she climbed the porch steps. She started to reach for the door, but he stretched out his longer arm and opened it.
“I’m a man of many talents.”
Turning around to face him, she took a backward step into the house. “And a gentleman too. Let’s hope you’re not so gentlemanly between the sheets.”
When had he ever had this much fun with a woman? Okay, a woman who wasn’t related to him, because Adalia could probably make a monk laugh in the middle of a week-long silent meditation retreat. “I can pretty much guarantee I’m not.”
She sucked in a breath and he loved that he’d gotten the better of her, even if he was sure it wouldn’t last longer than a second or two, three at most.
“Does that guarantee come with a return policy?”
He grinned. There it was. God, she was fun. “Satisfaction guaranteed.”
“Promises, promises.” She continued walking backward into the living room. The furnishings were older and well-worn, but the place was neat and orderly, with the exception of a few dog toys scattered around.
“You got a deck of cards?” he asked.
“Would I have suggested strip poker if I didn’t?” she snorted, finally turning around and heading into the kitchen. “Want a drink?”
He watched her as he walked, the dress showing her upper thighs. “Got any bourbon?”
She gave him a surprised look over her shoulder. “No, but I have whiskey and gin.”
“Whiskey will do.”
“Goin’ for the hard stuff,” she said as she opened her fridge and pulled out a screw cap bottle of wine. She grabbed a wine glass out of the cabinet, gesturing to the fridge with her free hand. “The whiskey’s up there. Just like Dottie’s.”
“Most people store their alcohol above their refrigerators,” he said, reaching for the cabinet and sorting through the bottles. Some of them looked dusty and old, like maybe they were older than Maisie. Why had she kept them? “But the heat from the fridge can damage it. Especially opened bottles. It’s better to store them somewhere cool and dry.”
She gave him a sardonic look as he pulled out the Jameson. “Are you here to play strip poker or give me a lesson on storing alcohol?”
He turned back toward her and wrapped his free arm around her lower back, tugging her to his chest as he searched her face. “Definitely the former. The latter is pure bonus.”
She studied him for a moment with an Is he for real? look. Then her eyes lit up. “You’re just full of surprises.”
“You have no idea.” He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss, then sucked her bottom lip.
She reached her arms around his neck, eagerly kissing him back, but he took several steps backward, just out of reach. “Just giving you a sample of the goods.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Like I said. Full of surprises. You gonna pour that whiskey into a glass or drink straight from the bottle?”
He reached into the cabinet and got a juice glass, pouring a finger. He had no desire to get drunk. He wanted to experience every moment with her with his full faculties, yet there was no denying he liked the taste of bourbon. Or whiskey, in a pinch.
After she poured herself a glass of white wine—a moscato, he noticed—she opened a drawer and pulled out a deck of cards.
Holding his juice cup, he reached for her wrist, going for the hand holding the cards, and tugged her back to the living room while they stared into each other’s eyes.
“Where do you want to do this?” he asked. “The living room or in your bed?”
Her tongue darted out and licked her lower lip. “My room.”
“Tell me where we’re going, Maisie.”
“Or I could lead,” she said in a challenge.
He’d suspected she had a strong independent streak, but this confirmed it. A slow smile spread across his face as he spun her around to be in front.
She headed up a staircase and led him into a simple room—a bed that looked too small for the space with a gray quilted bedspread, a nightstand with a modern-looking metal lamp, and a beaten-up dresser that had seen better days. Kicking off her shoes in front of what he presumed was her closet door, she set the wine glass on the nightstand and sat on the bed. She scooted backward, crossing her legs, and gave him the tiniest sliver of her black panties to view.
Patience.
Setting his glass down beside hers, he slid off his shoes next to the bed and sat in front of her, crossing his legs too. “You do know I have the advantage here,” he said, taking the box and dumping out the cards. He started to shuffle them against his knee. “I have more clothes on than you do.”
“Call it a handicap,” she said, reaching for the cards and then launching into some fancy shuffling.
“Why do I feel like I’ve been suckered?” he asked with a laugh.
“One born every minute.” She started passing out cards. “Five-card draw or Texas Hold’em?”
“Five-card draw.”
She stopped shuffling. “Do you need a refresher of the rules?”
He laughed. “Deal already. I’m eager to get that dress off of you. I say the winner gets to pick the article of clothing that gets removed.” He smirked at her. “And they get to take it off as well.”
Her eyes lit up and she dealt them both five cards. “I can agree to those terms, and since we’re not betting, we only get one chance to draw new cards.”
“Sounds good to me.” He picked up his cards, relieved when he saw he had a pair of fives, along with an ace of hearts, a ten of spades, and a three of clubs. He kept the fives and dumped the rest and drew three more. They were junk cards, but at least he had a pair. He glanced over at Maisie, who only exchanged one card.