Jokers Wild: Stripped Bare

by Lena Matthews

  Brody slipped the key in the door lock and unlocked the driver’s door. Opening it slowly, he asked, “Can you find another ride home?”

  “Yes,” she said sadly.

  Nodding his head, Brody got in the car and shut the door behind him. Missy stepped away from the car, and watched in silence as he backed up and drove away. Missy stayed in that exact position staring after him. She cried, watching him leave until she could no longer see his tail lights, until she could no longer see the distant glimmer of his car, until she no longer had tears left to cry.

  Chapter 16

  Tequila and bad country music were bad ways to mend a broken heart. The tequila made Brody sick, and the music just made him depressed, and, well, kind of sick too, he thought, turning the channel on his radio. It had been three days since his blowout with Missy and nothing had made him feel better yet, not even knowing that he was right for once, and not just being a stubborn ass.

  Well, not being a huge stubborn ass, anyway. Part of him could understand her getting jealous when the woman was coming on to him, heaven knows he got pissed off when another man even looked at her, but damn it, she should have had more faith in him than that. He had just told her he loved her for Christ’s sake, and those weren’t words he used lightly, or ever, outside his family.

  To think that he had even bought a ring and had made plans of proposing that night, he had to be a damn fool. It was obvious that she wasn’t in love with him, although he’d thought she was. Apparently he’d been wrong.

  Pacing back and forth in front of his couch, Brody had to force himself not to call her or drive to her apartment. He was afraid of what he might do or say. On one hand he wanted to shake some sense into her until her head rattled, but on the other he wanted to throw her to the bed and ravish her until she admitted that she couldn’t live without him, the way he knew that he couldn’t live without her.

  The ringing of the phone brought him out of his self-imposed funk. Storming across the room, he snatched up the phone and bellowed into the line, “What?”

  “Still haven’t made up with Missy, I see,” Bryce said sarcastically.

  “Does it sound like it?”

  “You two need to sit down and talk this out.”

  “Who asked you, Dear Abby?” Brody growled, continuing his futile pacing. By the end of the night he was sure his calves would be killing him. He couldn’t count how many times he had made this trip tonight, but he was sure that he’d worn a patch in his taupe carpet.

  “No one, dickhead. I’m trying to be supportive.”

  “By calling me a dickhead?”

  “It’s familial concern with a twist.”

  “What twist?”

  “The kind where I care, but I’m not going to let you turn into a sissy la la. Snap out of it and go over to her house and work this out.”

  “I can’t,” Brody said with a sigh, sitting down on his couch. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and groaned softly.

  “Why?”

  “Because I need her to come to me.”

  “You’re going to let your stupid pride…”

  “It’s not all pride, I swear, man.” Opening his eyes, he rolled his head to the side and looked over on his fireplace mantel at the small, black velvet box sitting like a beacon in the night. “I need to know that she cares enough to give.”

  “Are you asking her to give more than she can?”

  “I hope not, because I need this, Bryce. I need to be as important to her as she is to me.”

  “I know she loves you, man,” Bryce replied softly.

  “I wish I could be that sure.”

  “How about I come over and we play some cards, watch bad cable porn and tell lies.”

  Chuckling softly, Brody replied. “You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.”

  “I want to, besides I could use some extra cash. I’m a struggling young entrepreneur.”

  “Not that young.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Nah, you have too much back hair.”

  “Ass,” Bryce replied amusedly. “Give me an hour and I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “That’s what brothers are for.”

  Brody hung up the phone feeling pounds lighter. His brother had always been his rock and his best friend, and if he had to get drunk and listen to shitty music, there was no one he would rather do it with. Turning the radio to the classic rock channel, Brody cranked up the volume to wash away the melancholy blues that had filled the air only minutes before his brother’s phone call.

  Pushing the couches out of the way, Brody set up his poker table, complete with chips and cards. Looking down at the felt table, Brody thought back to the last time he had used it, remembering the fun he’d had teaching Missy to play. Shaking his head, Brody refused to dwell on thoughts of her; he was going to have a good time if it killed him.

  Brody headed to the kitchen to grab some snacks for him and Bryce when the doorbell rang. Looking down at his wristwatch, he shook his head. Bryce must be really worried about him, because he was forty-five minutes early.

  “Lost your key?” he asked pulling the door open. The smile dropped from his face as he came face-to-face with the woman who had been haunting his dreams and filling his every waking thought.

  “I never had a key,” she commented, looking at him curiously. Missy was dressed in her old clothes, baggy jeans and oversized black T-shirt, with her burgundy backpack swung over her left shoulder. Her trademark ponytail was back in place, along with the wary look in her hazel eyes.

  “What do you want?” Brody asked coldly.

  “To see you,” she said, moving past him into the house. Walking into his living room, she paused at the table and looked over her shoulder at him, smiling. “This brings back memories.”

  “Did you come to walk down memory lane, or did you have a reason?”

  Frowning, she sat her backpack on the couch and faced him. “You make it awfully hard to apologize when you’re being a jerk.”

  “Well, don’t let me keep you,” he said tightly. Brody could have kicked himself for saying that. He didn’t want her to leave, but the way she showed up, so blasé, just irked him. Missy was acting like nothing happened, as if at most they’d had a little spat.

  Facing him, she smiled warily and said, “Look, the way I acted Saturday was…”

  “Childish, untrusting, bitchy…”

  “I don’t need your help filling in the blanks,” she replied heatedly. Her cheeks flushed and she swiped her hands across her forehead, moving her bangs back. “I was wrong, but I can’t believe we can’t work this out.”

  “I don’t know, Missy,” he said stubbornly.

  “Why not?” she asked, frustrated. “Why are you making this so hard? I was wrong. I’m saying I’m wrong. I didn’t make you eat shit after the incident at the apartment.”

  “This isn’t just about you being jealous, this is about trust, and how you don’t trust me.”

  “The bimbo had her hand on you.”

  “I’m not talking about trusting me with other women.” Brody had to calm himself down. This was exactly why he didn’t want to deal with her right now, he was afraid that he was going to erupt and Missy would be the one to suffer.

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about trusting me with you. Your body, your heart, your life,” he said harshly.

  Missy took a step back, and looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “That’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is,” he bit out, walking towards her. “You don’t trust me enough to let me in.”

  “You’ve been in plenty of times.”

  Brody stepped over to her, and tapped her gently, “Inside your sweet pussy, but not inside your heart.”

  Missy captured his hand in hers and held it pressed against her chest and said tightly. “You are in my heart,” she said firmly. “I didn’t get to tell you on Saturday, because we were interrupted, but I do love yo
u, Brody.”

  Brody stared at her in shock. He didn’t expect her to say that and he was in floored. His hand lingered for a moment against her soft breasts before he pulled it away slowly. “If you love me, how could you think that I would do that?”

  “Because I learned the hard way that love isn’t always enough.”

  “I’m sorry, Missy, but that wasn’t me, and I refuse to pay for someone else’s mistakes.”

  “I know that it wasn’t you.”

  “You must not.”

  “I do,” she insisted. “It’s just that if you’ve ever been hurt like that…”

  “I was, Saturday.”

  “You will never know what is like to be in this body.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your body.” Brody was tired of her hiding behind her size. “But I can tell you that a thousand times, but until you believe that, we’re always going to have this issue between us.”

  “You may not think there’s nothing wrong with it, but I don’t live in Brodyland. I live in the real world. And in the real world I’m far from perfect.”

  “I…”

  “Let me finish,” she interrupted. “This isn’t about you, this is about me. And you’re right, this is my problem that I have to work through, and I’m trying, but you have to be patient with me, cause I’ve been in this body for twenty-six years, you’ve only been in it for a few months.”

  Brody grunted, acknowledging that she was right as she continued, “My problems are mine. If you want to be a part of my life, you’re going to have to get used to me not feeling cover model-like sometimes, but I’m a work in progress and damn it, you’re not perfect either.

  “I never said that I was.”

  “No, but sometimes you act like it.” She fumed, “You’re controlling, jealous and pigheaded, but I love you, all of you. And I’m taking the good with the bad, and if you want to be with me, you have to as well.”

  Looking at her mad and inflamed, Brody was amazed at how much she had changed since he’d first met her. He could remember first seeing her in class, shy and seemingly timid, and now she was vibrant and alive and demanding that he accept her for who she was. If he weren’t already in love with her, he would have fallen head over heels right then and there.

  “I do want to be with you,” Brody said. “But it has to be all the way, Missy, or none of the way. I can’t, I won’t settle for half of you. I want the whole damn package. Every bossy inch of you.”

  “I’m not bossy.”

  “The hell you aren’t. But I’m serious. I want nothing between us anymore. No more hiding in the dark or behind ex’s.”

  “I’m not going to be forced into this Brody.”

  “I’m just letting you know where I stand.”

  “And where is that?”

  “By your side if you let me.” Taking her hand, Brody brought it to his chest and held it over his heart. “Trust me enough to love you, faults and all. Perfection is for women who are airbrushed, with staples in their stomachs. I want you, thick you, thin you, whatever size you come in. You’re a work of art. Trust me enough to know that I know my heart and that it’s yours.”

  “Love me for me.”

  “I already do,” he said, dropping a kiss on her parted lips. Deepening the kiss, Brody released her hand and brought his to her waist. Taking her shirt in his hands, he tried to raise it but was stopped by Missy’s hands on his wrist.

  “Missy,” he groaned against her mouth.

  Pulling back, Missy smiled up at him, her eyes still bright with tears, but this time happy tears, he hoped. “Explain this to me, how do you go from angry to horny in less than a minute?”

  “I’m a man honey, I was horny the minute I opened the door.” And it wasn’t a complete lie. Brody always wanted her, whether he was pissed or not. She was like a slow, aching, fiery need in his body and soul, and he knew that she always would be.

  “Good thing I wasn’t the pizza delivery guy. That would have been one hell of a tip.”

  “I’ll give you a tip, alright,” he said rubbing his hard cock against her middle. “If you want to keep this shirt rip-free, I suggest you take it off right now.”

  “I want more than sex.”

  “It’s always been more than sex between us, Missy.”

  “I love you, and I don’t just want to make up tonight, if the problem is still going to be there tomorrow.”

  “I can’t guarantee that we won’t argue tomorrow, or the next day, but this is life, not heaven, we don’t have to be perfect.”

  “Good thing for me,” she joked.

  “Don’t do that,” he said seriously. “I don’t want you to say negative things about yourself. You belong to me.” Holding up his hand to silence her he continued, “Just as much as I belong to you, and I hate it when you do that.”

  “I’m just joking, Brody.”

  “Well it isn’t funny. It’s demeaning to you and to me. If you hate your body so much, then do something about it.”

  “Wow, what a concept, I wonder why I never thought of that,” she said sarcastically.

  “Stop it.”

  “You know what, let’s make a deal,” Missy said walking around him. Grabbing the cards off the table she continued, “I’ll play you for it.”

  “What?”

  “If I win, you have to bite your tongue every time I say something you don’t like, but I still get to say it without any comments from you.”

  “And if I win?” he asked, arching a brow. This whole night had done a complete three-sixty. He had started it moping and a tad bitchy, with the only thing to look forward to belching and lying with Bryce. Now he had Missy at his side again and he was about to get lucky. Life didn’t get much better than that.

  Missy gestured with her head over to the card table and said, “You want to see the goods, you got to earn them.”

  He knew that they had just simplified a shitload of problems and boiled them down to the bare necessities, but like Missy, they too were a work in progress. He was going to have to give her time to grow and she was going to have to give him time as well. “Gonna make me work for it, are you?”

  “Yes, let’s put your proverbial money where your mouth is. You want me to take it off, you better have a better hand.”

  “I taught you the game, don’t you think I’ll have an unfair advantage?”

  “All’s fair in love and war.”

  “Are we at war?”

  “No.”

  “So for every hand I win, you take off an item and for every hand you win, I take off something.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “That is how strip poker works.”

  “Seems like it’s a win-win situation to me,” he said, rubbing his chin, thinking.

  “You have a problem with those odds?” she questioned, raising a brow.

  “Not at all. I’m a betting man, the house always has the advantage, and since I’m the house, I’d be fool to turn down them odds.” Crossing his arms across his chest he continued, “Name your game.”

  “Five card stud, of course.”

  “Anything wild.”

  “Jokers.”

  “I don’t normally play with those,” he noted, walking with her to the table.

  “This isn’t a normal game.”

  “So true.” Sitting down across from her, he shuffled the cards. “Although I don’t understand why I have to get naked if you’re playing for me to shut up.”

  “Consider it a bonus for me, and a way to district me for you,” Missy commented, tapping her fingers against the table and watching the cards carefully as he shuffled them. If Brody didn’t know better, he would think that she didn’t trust him, as if he would cheat. Well he would cheat, of course, if he thought he could get away with it, but he doubted that Missy would even give him the opportunity.

  “No, I mean do I still get to see you?” he asked, as he dealt out the first hand.

  “You didn’t win did you?” Missy picked up her hand and
looked down at her cards. Rearranging them in her hand, she looked up at him expectantly.

  Pausing, Brody looked over at her, not really paying attention to his hands. He should have known there would be a catch. Nothing was ever simple when it came to Missy. “So I could be playing all this for nothing.”

  “It’s the luck of the draw,” she shrugged.

  “I told you luck is only ten percent.”

  “Then you better get to praying, because I don’t plan to lose.” Her eyes twinkled over her hand, and Brody knew that she wasn’t bluffing. If he didn’t win she wouldn’t strip, and there was no way in hell he was going to miss her coming-out party.

  Meeting her eyes, he replied huskily, “Neither do I, Princess.”

  Chapter 17

  Missy played her hand like her very life depended on the outcome of the game. She still was apprehensive of being completely bare in front of Brody, but she wanted him to know that she trusted him. And if she won and could put off the inevitable for just a few nights more, all the better. It was something that Missy knew would happen eventually, but still she wanted to win.

  Then there was the erotic factor of playing strip poker with your lover. Brody’s body was exquisite and she couldn’t wait for him to show it to her one piece at a time. They had started tonight with their relationship hanging in the balance, and now just a few minutes later they were facing off, playing for each other’s cards. Love was strange, Missy thought with a smile, and they were even stranger.

  “I have three of a kind,” she placed her cards on the table.

  Brody grumbled and threw his cards down without even showing her what he had. Pulling his gray T-shirt over his head, he dropped it unceremoniously on the floor next to the table. Missy couldn’t help but ogle his chest, perfect in all its glory, and wonder, for the millionth time, how she ever ended up with a man this fine. Of course, she thought it to herself, not even venturing to say it aloud, for fear of his response. She wasn’t in the mood to get her ass paddled. Well, she thought with a small smile, she could be in the mood if he played his cards right.