I guess I’d decided to stop trying to hide my weirdness. The man had just dined on my body like I was caviar and cake and didn’t seem to have any interest in me returning the favor. What was the point of pretending now? Our time together was apparently at an end.
“That’s pretty clever,” he muttered, stuffing the fuzzy blanket into a bin mounted to the truck bed. The cushy blanket I’d been sitting on during our interlude followed. Actually, I decided I would call it an inter-lewd, which felt a bit more comedic and therefore palatable given the last few minutes.
Hopping down, he landed on his feet like a cat and swiped something from the bed before shutting the tailgate. He then turned to me, his expression a warm neutral in the waning light, and crossed the short distance that separated us.
“Here,” he said, settling his suit jacket around my shoulders, his smile soft. “You gotta be cold.”
I eyed him, instinct wanting me to respond with something sassy like, You want to come back to my hotel room and warm me up? I couldn’t quite form the words. He’d rejected me, right? When I’d reached for his belt and he’d pulled away, that was rejection. If he didn’t want me, that was fine. I was fine. It was fine.
“I guess I’m a little cold,” I said, just to say something, because he was still standing close. In the next moment, he slid his hands into the jacket, settling them on my hips, gazing down at me with those wonderful eyes.
Deputy James’s lips parted, and he breathed out. I got the sense he was thinking, considering what to do next. Or maybe he didn’t know what to say. Or maybe he didn’t believe me, that this—tonight—came with no expectations.
“Listen, I meant what I said. This is one hundred percent no strings. I’m not—I leave tomorrow. And I have a rule about this kind of stuff. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“A rule?” He shuffled his feet, moving him closer, his hands inching around to my back. “What kind of rule?”
“I’m never with the same guy twice. There’s something about the—the elegant tension of one-night stands, you know? Two strangers sharing their bodies but nothing else? If we have sex, you never have to worry about me talking to you after.”
“You’re talking to me now.”
“Yes, but we haven’t sealed the deal, have we? Once we have sex, that’s it. You’re dead to me.”
His eyes narrowed but his lips parted with a half grin. “Excuse me?”
“You know what I mean. You’re not dead dead to me. Like, if I see you in a Starbucks, I’m not going to think you’re a ghost.”
He laughed even as he pressed his lips together.
I plowed ahead, determined to get my point across. “If I see you, I’ll say hi. But my life being what it is right now, my career has to come first. I have the rule—no repeats—and that keeps things tidy for all involved. Plus, it’s fun. And people like to have fun. I like fun.”
Like before, his grin waned, his gaze turning thoughtful as I spoke, and I could see he was considering me. “What are you doing now?”
“Right now?” I looked to my left and right.
“No.” He breathed a light laugh, his fingers flexing on my back. “I meant, what are you doing for the rest of tonight?”
“I have no plans.”
A mild frown arrested his features. He stared at me, his gaze intent, but said nothing. I stared at him in return, waiting, because I had no idea what this expression on his face meant. The moment seemed to go on and on, neither of us moving. My heart gave a little tug, a painful and sad spasm at the thought of ending our time together.
It felt premature. We’d left the wedding just a few hours ago. We still had time, if he wanted. If he wants.
At length, he opened his mouth, perhaps to speak, and so I said, “If you want, we can spend the rest of the night together. Doing things.”
“Things?” His frown eased, but I felt reluctance in how he held his body, the tension in his frame. “What kind of things you got in mind?”
“I don’t know. How about Vegas Chess?” As far as I knew, there was no such thing as Vegas Chess.
“What’s Vegas Chess?”
“I’ll teach you. It’s a betting game.” It was not a betting game. I’d just made it up.
He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Chess is not a betting game.”
“It is. This version of it is.” I nodded earnestly, the picture of wide-eyed innocence as I lied. “It’s the origin of strip poker. For every pawn you lose, you have to take off a piece of clothing.”
He grinned suddenly, like he couldn’t help himself. “What happens if I lose one of my knights?”
“First base.” My heart fluttered with anticipation and a scant bit of nerves. Please say yes.
His lips twisted. “What about the rook?”
“Second base.” Please say yes.
“Queen?”
“Cunnilingus.” Please say yes!
A sudden laugh burst from his lips, and he shook his head. “And if you lose your queen?”
I didn’t think twice about lifting an eyebrow and saying, “Fellatio.”
His eyes narrowed again, but I didn’t miss the spark of heat. “Bishop?” he asked, his voice full of gravel.
I worked to hide the nervous energy clogging my throat and smiled sweetly, swallowing before leaning close to whisper, “Missionary.”
Part IV
“A wise girl kisses but doesn't love, listens but doesn't believe, and leaves before she is left.”
Attributed to Marilyn Monroe
He drove me to my hotel, walked me to my cabin, and left me at the door with a promise to return soon. I used the time to take a quick shower and change into black yoga pants and a white tank top. Since the good deputy had seemed mesmerized by the girls earlier, I decided to forgo a bra.
True to his promise, he returned a half hour later bearing a platter of veggies, meats, cheeses, and a bottle of wine, explaining that he knew the owner of the hotel—or rather, what he called the lodge. The food was from the restaurant kitchen and the wine was from the cellar, both of which he’d apparently felt free to raid.
He also had a chess board tucked under one arm and did not delay in setting up the game on the coffee table. In truth, until I spotted the chess board, I’d still been feeling uncertain about whether or not he actually wanted to be here with me tonight.
The entire platter of food and two glasses of wine later, Vegas Chess was now my favorite game, and I was no longer in doubt of the deputy’s desire to stay. He wanted to be here. And the reason I knew for a fact that he wanted to be here was because he’d lost six pawns right off the bat, removing his jacket, shirt, tie, shoes, and belt, and grinned the whole time.
His rook was lost shortly after, and the game paused as I jumped to my feet and crossed to where he sat on the couch. Straddling his lap, I placed my hands on the back of the couch and giggled like a loon. I had no idea why I felt so giddy. Probably the wine.
“Are you ready to make out?” I whispered.
He settled his hands on my backside and squeezed, massaging me through my yoga pants. I loved how his hands held my body, like touching me was so natural, and something he truly enjoyed. “Why are you laughing?”