“What’s wrong?” Madeline asked while Charlotte snuck another marshmallow out of the bag.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Felix pitched his voice in that soothing tone of his that made me want to hire him to read every shipboard alert. No one would ever panic again. “Calder may have to stay a little longer, that’s all. We have to wait for the plow.”
“Okay.” She nodded solemnly, way calmer than she probably would have been if I’d been the one to deliver the bad news. “Maybe he can show us how to play the game table. It’s like the ones on old TV shows with long sticks.”
“There’s a game table?” I frowned because I’d missed that on my own explorations.
“Pool table,” Felix corrected. “And one of those foosball games too. It’s a game room of sorts located beyond the bedroom you stayed in. An addition made after the rest of the cottage was finished. It’s the dickens to keep heated this time of year, but in the summer the space is a nice hangout near the grill and hot tub.”
“This I have to see.” I started down the hall, but quickly realized that I couldn’t manage both the walking stick and my coffee. And with the way my ankle was protesting the sudden movement, the walking stick was still a necessity. Damn it. I was ready for this injury to be over.
“It’ll be freezing in there.” Felix trailed after me as the girls bounded ahead, opening a door I’d assumed was another closet.
“You weren’t kidding.” The room was a rather utilitarian space, like a lot of garage conversions I’d seen growing up. Rectangular space with a small dormant woodstove in the far corner and room for a small pool table, a foosball table, a lumpy-looking couch, and a stereo system that likely predated both Felix and me. “And no TV? No computer? This is like visiting those rec rooms from the ’70s and ’80s I’ve seen in old pictures.”
“Painfully accurate.” Laughing, Felix wrapped his arms around himself. “And I’ll warn you right now that the pool table isn’t playable. It’s got this weird wobble, but figuring out how to fix it was beyond me.”
“Maybe you lacked motivation.” I winked at him. I wasn’t sure why turning the charm on for Felix never seemed to work precisely as I expected. For instance, it was supposed to make him all fluttery, not me.
“Well, I did lack a competition-addicted sailor that trip.” Felix laughed.
“Hey, I’m not that bad!”
“Tell me you’re not already trying to decide how to goad me into foosball.”
Guilty. Okay, he had me there. I pursed my mouth, not going to admit to it.
“You can play me and Madeline,” Charlotte announced, already heading to the table.
“Calder’s foot is likely too sore for lessons.” Felix’s tone was smug, likely because he knew he was right and because teaching kids foosball was the opposite of a competitive thrill. “I’m going to check the flue for the stove in here, see if I can get a fire going before your hands freeze onto the handles.”
“I’m not that hurt. I can play.” Pride wasn’t going to let me back down from this challenge, but I wasn’t like my brothers. Explaining games or other things to kids didn’t come easily to me, mainly because I lacked their patience for endless questions, and joking around with kids always made me feel rather stiff, none of the easy teasing I had with my friends and other adults. But here the girls were looking at me all expectantly, so all I could do was remind myself I was a naval chief and I was not about to be bested by two little kids. I could do this.
“You take half and I’ll take the other half.” Charlotte pointed to the handles as she positioned herself and Madeline opposite me. She’d be good on a sub herself what with how take-charge she was.
Hey. There was an idea. Rather than getting hung up on how to simplify the game to the kids’ level, I pretended I was explaining a complicated task for a new recruit. I still wouldn’t say I was necessarily a great teacher, but the girls caught on quickly and I found way more patience than normal.
“We win!” Madeline grinned as wide as I’d seen her.
“You did it.” Something weird happened to my insides, like a stubborn jar lid finally opening, a rush that was both relief and pride. And...fun. Yeah, that was it. I, the guy who couldn’t stand losing, was having fun letting two little girls win over and over until they were a legit decent team and I wasn’t faking needing to concentrate to counter their moves.
Meanwhile, Felix got the stove working and the room went from frigid to cozy, and still we played. He came to lounge against the pool table, watching us with a quizzical smile. Likely I was confounding him again. Good. I liked throwing him off whatever assumptions he’d made about me.
“Excellent job!” Felix cheered and I wasn’t sure whether he meant me or the girls, but I liked the praise nonetheless.
“I’m bored. Let’s see what else there is.” Charlotte scampered away from the table.
“Play me?” I asked Felix. “And don’t give me that ‘it’s been years’ line. I’m onto you now.”
He shrugged as he moved to where the girls had been standing, but his sly smile gave him away. “I did used to be pretty good at this a zillion years ago.”
“Show me.” I could be as demanding as Charlotte when I wanted to be, and like the kid, I added a coaxing smile.
“Fine.” Felix gave a long-suffering sigh as he twirled the handles experimentally. “Have mercy on my rusty skills.”
I’d intended to let him win the first round, similar to what I’d done with the girls, going at half speed so that he’d give me more than a single game, but he was too good for a lazy effort.
“I’m beginning to think we have differing definitions of rusty.” I shook my head as he won the round both because I’d started too slow and because he was that good.
“You’re flattering me so you can wax me next round.” Felix chuckled. Was it possible to get addicted to making someone laugh? I’d never found laughing a particular turn-on before, but each time I made him relax enough to chuckle that freely felt like a major victory. And the sound, rich and warm, lit me up in a way that was decidedly erotic.
“Maybe.” I waggled my eyebrows at him, the line between flirty and friendly blurring further.
“Oh, now it’s on.” The determination in Felix’s eyes was every bit as sexy as his chortle. “Stop going easy on me.”
“I’m not.” But I was highly distracted. Maybe I should have taken advantage of the alone time in the shower because this level of awareness of Felix couldn’t be healthy. And I couldn’t chalk it all up to a long dry spell either as I’d had plenty of those in the past without getting obsessed with a laugh or the nuances of someone’s expressions.