The Gambler

by Denise Grover Swank

  Love? The wedding had never been about that. Her quest for love, sure, but she’d never loved poor Mitch. She was beginning to doubt she’d ever find true love. Maybe someone like her was incapable of it. People modeled what they grew up around, didn’t they? If so, she was doomed.

  They ate in silence for a minute, but then Libby found herself thinking about Noah’s nudist story and snorted out loud.

  “How’d you come up with the town name so quickly for your nudist story?” she asked. “That was clever.”

  “Well, I am pretty smart.”

  Something in his tone caught her attention. She knew he hated being treated like an idiot, especially by his brother. And she’d seen proof of his intelligence time and time again. He could add huge numbers in a flash and he was the only person she knew who could divide a five-digit number by a three-digit number in his head. While he didn’t like to talk about it, she got the impression he’d started at his dad’s company when he was really young. She’d always wanted to ask about it, so she wasn’t surprised when she heard herself blurt out, “When did you graduate from high school?”

  He gave her an embarrassed shrug. “Right before my seventeenth birthday.”

  She gasped. “You’re kidding. I always wondered how you got your degree so young. I guess it’s a good thing since your father died at the end of your senior year in college.”

  “Yeah.” He grimaced at the memory, but he recovered quickly and shot her an ornery grin. “Ready for your big day?”

  She cradled a cup of coffee in her cold hands. “Where are we going?” She tried—and failed—to keep the excitement out of her voice. She’d loved surprises since she was a little girl and her abuela would show up on her birthday to take her out for a day of surprises and fun. There’d been too little fun in her life when she was younger.

  He pursed his lips, then said, “Walmart. You can get clothes and toiletries. I can get a phone charger. It’s only a few miles away.” She started to say something, but he spoke first, a smug look on his face. “They don’t have a Target. Yes, I checked.”

  He knew she hated the superstore. “And where are we going after that?”

  “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

  “Can you give me a hint?”

  He laughed. “Let’s just say I would never go there if you weren’t with me.”

  She wondered what could be so repulsive to him and her eyes flew open in horror as an alarming possibility occurred to her. “Oh, God. Please tell me it’s not the Precious Moments chapel in Carthage, Missouri. All those little angels with baby faces give me the creeps.”

  He burst out laughing. “That would serve you right for using my toothbrush.”

  “Maybe I’ll just hitchhike home.”

  “Not a chance. Now that Megan and Blair know you’re under my care, they’ll never forgive me if I don’t deliver you home safely myself.”

  The thought of her friends sobered her for a moment, but she would sort things out with them later. Today she was going to have fun.

  “Here.” He handed her his jacket before they stepped outside. “We’ll try to find you a coat at Walmart.” Then he snickered and led the way out to his car.

  She would have preferred a thrift store, but on a Sunday morning in a small Kansas town, it wasn’t likely they’d find one. So she let him drive to the superstore, which was only a couple of miles away. The selection of clothing was just as abysmal as she’d expected. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a couple of shirts, along with some panties, night clothes, and a pair of canvas tennis shoes. Noah laughed when she opted for a bulky sweater instead of a coat. He headed off to find a phone charger cord while she picked up some toiletries. A few minutes later, he found her in the deodorant aisle, holding a new toothbrush in his hand.

  She laughed. “Is that for you or me?”

  He shuddered. “Me.”

  “You big baby.”

  They checked out and she felt guilty when she saw the total, knowing most of it was for her. “I’ll pay you back.”

  “Consider it payment for all the meals you’ve provided me,” he said, keeping his gaze on his wallet.

  They’d eaten plenty of meals together, sure, but they’d always split the cost of restaurants and pizza delivery. She didn’t say anything, figuring she’d pay him back when she got home.

  She took the bag of clothes to the restroom at the front of the store and changed. When she came out, Noah was holding the charger cord in one hand and the empty case in the other. He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t use my toothbrush, did you?”

  “Jeez, if you were so concerned, you should have taken it out of the bag and kept it with you.” She grinned. “But now that you mention it, I need to go back—”

  She made a play of turning around and heading to the restroom, but he grabbed her arm. “Not a chance. Let’s go.”

  He grabbed his toothbrush out of the bag as he ushered her out the doors.

  “What’s the deal with the toothbrush phobia?” she asked. “There has to be a story there.”

  His eyebrows rose. “If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll tell it to you.”

  She turned around and walked backward. “Are you suggesting I’m not?”

  “Asks the woman wearing a shirt that says, ‘I should come with a warning label.’”

  She laughed, feeling happier and . . . lighter than she had in weeks. “I figure it’s true.”

  A cocky grin spread across his face. “Good call.”

  He plugged in his phone as soon as they got into the car, and after they gassed up, he headed west on I-70.

  “Thank God,” she said in a gush. Carthage was in the opposite direction. “No demonic cherubs.”

  “Lucky for you, Libby St. Clair Day doesn’t involve torture.”

  They were quiet for a few moments. Then she asked, “Shouldn’t you check in with Donna?” Just saying the woman’s name filled her with irrational anger.

  He grimaced. “I suspect I’d get cussed out if I called Donna.”

  “Ah . . .” She cringed, trying not to feel guilty about how much his answer gratified her. “That bad, huh?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t have to worry about her using my toothbrush.”

  “What happened? You find someone else to replace her with?”

  A grin tugged at his lips, but it looked off. “Something like that.”

  She wondered if she should offer him sympathy. Donna was a rare exception to his parade of women—she’d lasted nearly a month. Did that mean she had meant something to him? The thought sent an unexpected wave of jealousy through her, but she reminded herself that she and Noah worked better as friends. She had no right to feel jealous, yet that ugly emotion simmered inside her nevertheless. Today was about fun, not this guilt and jealousy, so she decided to change the subject. “What about Josh? Shouldn’t you call him?”

  “I’m not his favorite person at the moment either.”

  “Pissing people off right and left, aren’t you?”

  “It’s what I do best.” Only there wasn’t any humor in his tone now.

  That got her attention. “Want to talk about it?”

  He turned to look at her. “Want to talk about why you asked Mitch to marry you and then let him plan your entire wedding?” He could have sounded condemning, but it was more conspiratorial. Yes, they both had baggage they’d rather not bring on this trip.

  “Touché.” She kicked off her new shoes and sat cross-legged. “Any other taboo subjects?”

  “I refuse to discuss fracking, Obamacare, and the Dalai Lama,” he said without missing a beat, then turned to look at her. “In that order.”

  She laughed. God, it felt good to be with him, on the road to some new adventure. “Fair enough. That leaves global warming, campaign fund fraud, and the Mormons.”

  He grinned and a happy glow filled his eyes. She knew in that moment that he needed this just as much as she did. But why? She knew he’d been wo
rking a lot lately—something he wasn’t used to doing. Maybe he was relieved to have the time off. Or maybe he was more upset over Donna than he was letting on.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, unable to stop herself from asking again.

  His grin told her that was exactly what he wanted. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Are we going to Colorado?”

  He shook his head. “If I tell you yes, will you leave me alone?”

  “No. I wouldn’t believe you now.”

  “Good call.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence before he asked, “What’s going on with your photography project?”

  “The one with shadows? I stopped working on it.” She’d used him as a model in some of the photos, putting him in various poses with his face in the shadows. The idea was to capture the interplay of light and darkness with the angles of his face. He had the face of a god, with his well-defined nose and strong jaw, and the way the light loved his features made the project exciting. Since he hadn’t been back in town for a while, she’d tried to use Mitch, but his features weren’t as pronounced, so the images hadn’t turned out as well as Noah’s.

  She’d given it up.

  “So what are you working on?”

  “Nothing.”

  He frowned. “Libby. The exhibit’s in two months. This is your dream! To be on display in a New York art gallery.”

  “I know,” she sighed. “But nothing seems right anymore.” The invitation to display her photographs in the gallery had been a dream come true, and the project had progressed much better than she’d expected until her somewhat-fallout with Noah. After that . . . well, she’d lost touch with the heart of it.

  “But it was going so well.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll come up with something else.” But she was worried she wouldn’t.

  “Lib.” He seemed to think over his words for a moment. “I know you and I are the type of people who tend to feel suffocated by deadlines, but stick with it. You know it could be your big break.”

  Big break in photography was a relative term. The wedding and family photography paid the bills, but the artistic projects fed her soul. His reminder only made her more anxious.

  “Change of subject?” he asked.

  She nodded, wondering why she was surprised he could read her. He seemed to understand her better than anyone else ever had. Maybe it was because they were so alike—just another reminder that they were totally unsuitable for each other. How could two completely irresponsible people, who consciously avoided the hard topics, make a relationship work? The thought only made her sadder.

  “Does Tortoise still sleep with that stuffed rabbit?”

  “Yes,” she chuckled. “I couldn’t find it last week and he moped around for two days until I pulled it out from under the sofa.” She paused. “He misses you. We haven’t been to the dog park since you were last around.”

  “Really? Are you taking him for walks in your neighborhood?” He glanced over at her, looking worried. “Your neighborhood’s sketchy, Lib. It’s not safe.”

  “Tortoise will protect me. In fact, he did a few weeks ago.”

  “What?” He sat up straighter. “What happened?”

  “It was nothing bad. We were outside around midnight and some drunk homeless guy wandered up. Tortoise freaked out and scared him away.” She was playing it off now, but the guy had wigged her out at the time. He’d started calling her names as he zigzagged toward her. Tortoise had released a low growl and bared his teeth, sending the tottering man off.

  “Why are you going outside at midnight?” He sounded angry.

  “Calm down, Noah. I had to take Tortoise outside to pee.”

  A scowl covered his face. “You need to move.”

  “My lease isn’t up for another six months.”

  “Move anyway.”

  She sighed. “You know I can’t afford it.” She paused. “And I’m not doing the roommate thing again.” Her last one had stolen her credit card. Libby was still cleaning up that mess.

  “Then come to Seattle and move in with me.”

  She gasped. “What?” Was Noah interested in something more with her? Not just sex, but something serious. Moving in was so many levels above a hookup.

  He looked surprised by his own statement, but he must have decided to go for it because he shrugged and said, “Why not? Seattle has a better artistic atmosphere than Kansas City.”

  Her mind whirled with excitement and her heart beat furiously, catching her by surprise. Did she want more with him? “But my business . . . my clients . . .”

  “You’ll find new ones.”

  She sat there speechless for a few moments, her barely used practical side vying for attention. Knowing Noah, if he were interested in a romantic entanglement with her, he would already have put on the moves. Last night they’d shared a bed and he’d acted like a eunuch. Still, something unfamiliar glowed in her chest—a spark of hope—and she decided to dig deeper.

  “Noah, how’s this gonna work? Am I supposed to hide in my room when you bring a girl home? Not to mention the fact that you have a one-bedroom apartment.”

  He scowled. “I don’t like the idea of you being in that condo alone, Libby. Especially since Mitch isn’t around now.”

  So he hadn’t contradicted her. She gave herself half a second to get over it before moving on to her next shocker. While she knew he cared about her, he’d never been this protective before. What was going on with him?

  “If it’s money, I can help,” he said. “I don’t have much, but I can help you get out of your lease so you can move.”

  “Noah, I can’t let you do that.”

  “At least think about it, okay?” he asked quietly.

  “Okay,” she agreed, if no other reason than because he sounded so worried.

  They rode in silence for several minutes before she asked, “Where are we going?”

  A big grin spread across his face. “Crazy.”

  Chapter Nine

  The hour and a half drive to Wilson, Kansas, was awkward for the first thirty minutes and it was entirely his own fault. He had no idea why he’d burst out with his suggestion that she move to Seattle, but there was no reeling it back in now. Even more alarming, he’d meant every word. He wanted her to move to Seattle with him. He wanted to try a real relationship.

  What the hell did he do with that?

  Libby was right¸ of course. There was no way she could move into his one-bedroom apartment with him as a friend. Would she be willing to try it if he moved to a bigger place? Maybe living together would help convince her they had what it took for a long-term relationship. He just needed to show her how compatible they were. Besides, now wasn’t the time for her to think about a new relationship. She was still devastated over her non-wedding to Mitch. She might not have gone through with it, but she was the one who’d proposed in the first place. Her heart had to be hurting. But if he was patient, if he showed her that he didn’t want to date other women, surely she’d be willing to give them a try.

  What was he thinking? He’d quit his job less than forty-eight hours ago. He might be inexperienced with relationships, but he did know he needed to be gainfully employed to prove to her that he was a grown-up. Why had he gone off and quit?

  Part of it was that he felt he could never be taken seriously at the firm after all the goofing off he’d done over the years. Up until a few months ago, the job had never been more than an obligation to him, and his own father had made it clear to him how poorly he would fulfill the family legacy. But the crazy thing was, he’d recently learned he liked responsibility and took pride in a job well done. The problem was that he needed to convince other people of that . . . and now he’d left the company on a whim and he had no idea what to do with his life.

  He wallowed in his thoughts until the atmosphere in the car mellowed, and soon he and Libby were chatting easily, as if nothing had happened. As if he’d never mentioned Seattle.

  Libby
was looking down at the radio, trying to find a station in the middle of nowhere, when Noah spotted a billboard advertising the place he was taking her.

  “Could you check my phone?” he asked. It had been charging for over an hour, and while he’d felt it vibrate on the seat next to him, he hadn’t bothered to check it. He was sure it was full of texts and voice mails from his brother, admonishing him for his irresponsible behavior. And while he didn’t exactly care to deal with that right now, if Libby was busy reading over the list, she wouldn’t look up and see the sign.

  “Okay.” She left the radio on a Latino station and checked the phone. “A text from Donna, three from Josh, two from Megan and one from Blair. Ten missed calls. Five voice messages. Oh, and a Facebook notification that Tiffany Brown has accepted your friend request.” She glanced up at him. “I didn’t think you used Facebook.” She sounded irritated.

  “I don’t.”

  “Yet you friend requested her.” Her mouth pursed. “You haven’t even friend requested me.”

  “Because I’m never on there, Lib. You know that. It’s a work thing.”

  “On Facebook?” She sounded skeptical.

  “It doesn’t matter now anyway. I don’t need it anymore,” he said, not wanting to share the whole sorry story of how he’d lost the account and promptly quit. “This is our exit.” He turned off, thankful he had an excuse to dodge the conversation.

  She looked around. “Where are we?”

  “Wilson, Kansas.”

  “Why are we here?”

  “It’s your first surprise.” He was suddenly nervous. This had seemed like such a good idea last night. Now it seemed incredibly stupid and lame. “Close your eyes.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it.”

  She covered her eyes with her hands.

  He glanced over at her. “No peeking.”

  She grinned. “You’re not planning to slow down and dump me on the side of the road, are you? I’ll pretend I prefer Iron Man to Thor if it means that much to you.”

  He laughed. “I already told you, I can’t go back to Kansas City without you. It would be a death sentence.”