Poker Face

by Law, Adriana

  “Well, go ahead. Say what you have to say,” she urged.

  He spoke quietly at first, “I’m trying to think of the nicest way to put this, but there’s no easy way to ay this…” then his temper flared, “you’re making my life a living hell! You want to put the ranch up for sale…fine. Put a damn sign up in the front yard….any potential buyers call and I will personally give them a grand tour. There’s really no need for you to stay here.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but Paul trusted me with this place for a reason. I think it’s a test.”

  “What… to see how much of his damn money you can waste on your stupid lil renovations?”

  “We’ll get back every cent once the ranch sells. You know what I was thinking the other day, right before I signed the papers?”

  “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

  “I was thinking how I’ve been given the perfect opportunity to prove myself. I do have a brain, Drew. I actually consider myself pretty intelligent. That may make me sound like a conceited bitch to you, but I don’t care. This place offers six bedrooms….any serious buyer is going to expect at least two baths. And after enjoying the pleasantries of last night’s meal….I think a separate dining room wouldn’t hurt. I’m sure if you asked Birdie she’d agree. Robbie assured me the added square footage will bring at least ten thousand more an offer.”

  He exhaled. Fighting with her was useless, besides he hated the way it made him feel. It gave him an overwhelming sense to do something, he just couldn’t figure out what that something was. No, he was well aware, but refused to admit that what he really wanted to do was shut her the hell up, even if he had to use his mouth to do it. He said the first rational thought that popped in his head. “Where are we supposed to go piss in the mean time?”

  “I already assumed you done it outside most of the time anyway.”

  Day Three

  “No way in hell…not in this lifetime! No. No. No.” Drew held his cell out in front of him shouting as beads of sweat formed across his brows. He walked in incomplete circles in the front yard, came to an abrupt stop and shoved a hand through his hair. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You can never make me have sex with that girl. You lied. I don’t know why I’m shocked. Stratford has signed the place over to her, and now she’s in charge, hard telling how much the bitch is going to sell the place for once she’s done turning it into a damn snooty bed and breakfast… I’ll never be able to afford it. Thank you for fucking up my life! Somehow, you managed to do it even from hundreds of miles away! He’d forgotten all about this place until you had to open your big mouth challenging him to another one of your stupid bets. Why are you so dead set on taking punches at Stratford?” Only then did Drew put the phone to his ear. “Not to mention, it’s wrong. Forcing the man to bet against his own daughter….who does that shit? Even I wouldn’t sink that low. ”

  “If you’d calm down and listen a minute. You can buy the ranch with the money I make off this bet. Think about it… you will own it free and clear, and Stratford didn’t bet against his stepdaughter,” his father emphasized step as if that somehow made it okay, “he bet against you screwing her.”

  “Dad really? It’s his daughter.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re turning into a prude like your mother?”

  “Leave her out of this!”

  “Okay, I’m waving a white flag here. I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of this. You’re what, twenty-three now? You’ve had plenty of one night stands. What’s one more? Hell, you can slip her a couple of hundreds if it eases your conscience.”

  “No. Just thinking about her makes me feel like throwing up, why the hell would I want to sleep with her?” Silence. Drew held his phone out again to see if the call had dropped. He held the cell high moving it around for better service. “Dad, you still there?”

  “Huh, I was certain Megan took after her mother in the looks department. But regardless, nobody said you have to keep your eyes open while you have sex with her. Hell, I bet you haven’t been attracted to half the girls you’ve slept with, so stop whining. Get drunk if it’ll help. ”

  “I didn’t say she’s ugly. She’s… I don’t know… she just irritates the hell out of me, and if your plan all along was to give me the money from this bet to buy the ranch… what are you getting out of this?”

  “Irritates you? I didn’t ask you to marry her, son.”

  “Have you not heard a single thing I’ve said….it’s never going to work. Megan already owns the ranch. Even if I came up with the money, I bet she’d refuse my offer just to piss me off. The last thing she wants is for me to own this ranch.”

  “What the hell did you do to offend her?”

  “I don’t know… breathe,” Drew mumbled. “You didn’t answer the question… what are you getting out of this?”

  His father went on, either not hearing his son, or avoiding the question. “This was supposed to be an easy win, sleight of hand. Stratford has no idea what a Mackenzie can do once he sets his mind to it….”

  “… or cheats,” Drew stuck in.

  “Seems I have a worthy opponent. Stratford told his stepdaughter he signed the ranch over to her to get her on the damn plane. It’s all a lie. I got to give it to the man; he fights dirty. Get in the game son. 400,000 dollars is on the line. Or have you changed your mind about wanting to buy the ranch?”

  This was beyond sick. Something about the whole setup made Drew’s skin crawl, but what other choice did he have? Sooner or later, Stratford was going to sell the ranch for real, and when he did….well, where would they all go? Worst case scenario, Megan sold the ranch—he bought it with the money his dad gave him from winning the bet—giving him the right to kick her out on her ass as soon as this was all over. No, that actually sounded pretty damn good.

  “Consider it taking one for the team. Unless…you’re thinking she might not give in to your charm? Is that why you’re in such an uproar? You’ve lost your confidence with this one? I assumed the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, or does it?” For the first time ever, Jonathan Mackenzie sounded worried.

  Drew’s entire life he had waited for his father to say “I am proud of you.” Couldn’t he be a normal father for once? Was that too much to ask?

  “Come on Son, make me proud.”

  “You really do need to go see a shrink,” Drew muttered hitting the end call button and chucking his cell halfway across the yard. Shit. His relationship with his father had reached an all-time low.

  *****

  Megan watched the sexy man before her: the way the muscles in his back rippled underneath his tight shirt as he worked. Her bottomed leaned against one of his sawbucks. She strangely felt insecure and exposed without her makeup. Her voice came out as small as a mouse, “You’re awfully good, you know?”

  Holding the pencil he used to mark measurements in-between his teeth he pulled down on the handle of the chop saw. Her eyes blinked and ears rang from the overwhelming high-pitched noise as the saw blade ripped through another piece of wood. Sawdust spit out behind Robbie. He grabbed at his pencil, pulled out his tape measurer, and made another mark. Repeated the process.

  She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her. This time she came close to shouting, “I said… you’re good at remodeling! Did you go to school for it?”

  He acknowledged her with a pleasant smile, and a wink.

  Well, this was really quite boring. She drummed her fingers. What was it going to take to show him she was ready to move things along in a more satisfying direction? More satisfying for the both of them. She smoothed the wrinkles of her Ghostbuster graphic T-shirt that had a scoop neck and hung off one shoulder. Didn’t Emma own anything sexy? The cabby hadn’t answered any of the hundreds of messages she’d left on his answering machine. She suspected he never would.

  Robbie came toward her, all sweaty and hot. He stopped, leaned, his breath light as a feather on her cheek. “I just need…”

 
; “Need?” she urged for more, “What do you need?”

  His chest rubbed against her nipples as his hands snaked around her, the tips of her breast hardening in response. Oh dear God! She inhaled deep wanting to memorize the tantalizing smell of a sexy man.

  “The lead in my pencil broke, sugar… I just need a new one,” he said as his fingers fumbled for the one lolling behind her. The pencil clattered over the lumber boards stacked on the saw bucks, but then he finally got hold of it bringing it around in front of her face. He stuck the pencil over his ear and remained where he was, with their bodies almost touching. An edge of his mouth quirked up as his hands went to her waist. He took a step forward, fitting his hard, sculpted body up against hers, his mouth hovering over hers, breathing warmth on her parted lips. “What were you thinking? That maybe I’d…” and then he kissed her. His lips felt dry and stiff moving over hers. Robbie was a neat kisser, neat as in tidy: there was no nipping, no slurping, no sucking… just his tongue “neatly” circling hers.

  Boring and predictable.

  She’d at least thought his strong hands would take possession of her, but they kind of just laid there limp on her sides. Something wasn’t working. Megan shifted, adjusted the position of her head thinking a different angle might help. It was the pencil breaking her focus, wasn’t it? She kept catching glimpses of it out of the corner of her eye. It was distracting. She tried really hard to concentrate on the gorgeous man whose warm tongue was invading her mouth, but she suddenly thought of everything, but that. Megan was seconds away from pulling back when her cell rang.

  Their lips broke apart. “Sorry, I need to answer that. It might be important.” She dove for her cell laid on the sink counter. Thank God! She glanced at her cell and groaned not sure which was worse, Robbie’s kissing or, “Hi Mom.”

  She held her cell back making sure she’d read the caller ID right, because all Megan heard was a horrible wailing sound. The chop saw squealed drowning out her mother’s words. “Hold on mom, I can’t hear you.” She wandered towards quiet having to go in the front yard to find it. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Drew’s cell hurtling through the air. It hit the ground hard, flipped end over end, and split apart the battery tumbling out. Their gazes met, his full of hurt and anguish. His brow went up as if to challenge her to say anything.

  Ignoring the fluttering in her belly she glared at him pointing at her own cell still all in one piece. “Do you mind? This is kind of private.”

  “Sorry Filly…didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy.” He scooped up the pieces of his cell and stormed past her. She heard flip-flops on the steps and the screen door slap close. Rainbows for heaven’s sake! Cowboys don’t wear freaking Rainbows. She blinked. Could this day get any weirder?

  “Meg….” her mother managed to get out on a sob.

  Oh right, she’d forgotten her mother was still on the other end. “What’s wrong? Did somebody die?”

  “It’s your stepfather….” more sobs. “We got into a horrible fight!”

  “About?” she asked, although woman’s intuition told her it could be summed up in one word, Georgia.

  “I can’t go in to the details right now, the vulture is still circling…” her voice spiked, the new volume causing Megan to hold her cell away from her ears until the yelling subsided, “don’t you dare give me that look, you heartless bastard! You screwed up royally this time! Sorry Megan, besides telling you will only shock you and cause you to “loathe” your stepfather.”

  “Nothing no man ever does would shock me, mom.”

  Her mother continued, “Only be forewarned, I have every intention to castrate the man first chance I get.”

  Megan imagined her mother’s vengeful streak and Lorena Bobbitt came to mind. She had no doubt her mother was capable given the right circumstances. A cheating husband. Yeah, she could see the crazed look in her mother’s eyes as she held a butcher knife near his pecker. “Maybe you should come stay here? At least until things cool off between you two.”

  “What, and let the son-of-a-bitch off light? Uh huh, I plan to stay right here, making his life hell. You’re the one that should come home. Stop this silliness. Paul never should have sent you there. Jackass!” the last word was thrown out there for Paul’s benefit.

  “Mom, please stop yelling in my ear. I’m not coming home.”

  “Have you been mauled?”

  Megan blinked. Confused. “Mauled?”

  “Yes, by a man.”

  “Um no, did you expect me to be?”

  “No invitations for sex?”

  Robbie’s kiss replayed in Megan’s head, the awkwardness of it, no matter if it was in rewind or fast forward the outcome was the same, still a big disappointment. Had her mother picked up on some weird vibe when she’d answered the phone? How else would she know there was a “man”? “Mom, no, I can’t believe you’re asking me this. I’m here to sell the ranch, not to find a man to sleep with.”

  “Good girl. You stick to that attitude and you won’t go wrong.”

  “Is that what your fight was about? Him giving me the ranch? If it is… I’m sure he didn’t mean to….”

  “Meg, have I taught you nothing? Never be so quick to forgive a man. If you do, you’ll only wind up being the expensive mat he wipes his nasty feet on.

  ****

  “There is nothing to worry about. I have a plan.” Paul Stratford said from the opposite end of the couch digging thumbs in the heel of his wife’s tender foot.

  Lying on her back, Lillian glared over at him, slipping her foot free from his hold. “If you’re wise you won’t touch me.”

  “Honey, I have this all under control. Trust me. I’ve gone to great lengths to place the perfect guy under Megan’s nose. With him around, Mackenzie’s son will be as good as invisible.”

  “Really? And what of this Robbie guy? How well do you know him? What if your little plan backfires and he ends up breaking my daughter’s heart? Or worse….”

  “I’ve known him long enough to know he’s Megan’s type, and vice versa. Not only do I get the pleasure of watching Mackenzie’s face when he loses the bet, but we may also be hearing wedding bells in the near future.” Stratford bit off his words as Lillian surged to her feet.

  He peered up at her with a sudden uneasiness. Lillian leaned over him with one hand going to the back of the couch, her other hand going to his crotch, an instantly he was hard. She ignored his erection, her attention going straight for his dangling sack. His eyes widened as she squeezed painfully tight, gripping him by the balls literally and metaphorically. “Is that what this is about? You and Mackenzie’s ongoing feud?

  “Not at all, well maybe a little, but I would also like to see Megan happy, wouldn’t you?” Stratford offered her a sheepish grin, his voice coming out a little higher than normal.

  Her gaze narrowed on him. She wasn’t buying it. “Are you ever going to stop trying to beat him?”

  “Yeah, after I win just once,” he uttered his gaze dropping to her mouth.

  “Funny, I thought you had. If this stupid bet of yours gets my daughter hurt, I swear to God… you won’t need these anymore.” Her hand tightened until his expression twisted with pain.

  ******

  Alone at the kitchen table, Megan pulled up a bare foot in her chair, and frowned down at the chipped frosted pink nail polish on her toes. She could already feel the downhill slide taking place: from the baggy T-shirt and softie shorts she’d thrown on after her shower to her hair which rebelled in the mugginess of the long hot days. Nothing about her was the same. A glass of milk sat on the table in front of her. Something about milk calmed her thoughts before bed. She closed her eyes letting the quiet in the house consume her until she heard the front door creak open.

  He made every attempt to be quiet that much was clear when he accidently ran into something and muttered a low curse righting back whatever rocked in its place threatening to wake the entire house.

  Megan felt his irri
tating presence before he ever said a word. Drew leaned a lazy shoulder against the doorjamb, hands buried deep in the pockets of his cargo shorts. He was wearing a crisp white dress shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows and brown boat shoes without socks. The white of the shirt was a contrast against his olive skin. It was the first time she’d actually seen him attempt to look halfway decent.

  “What’s wrong did Robbie leave without saying goodbye?” The deep words grated over her flesh.

  “Go away. I’m not in the mood for your shit,” she insisted with the rim of the glass pressed to her lips. He removed his hands from his pockets, strolled over to the refrigerator, opened it, and took out a carton of milk. He made annoying gulping sounds as he tipped back the carton taking long pulls. Megan scrunched up her nose eyeing her own glass of milk. “Do you mind? Other people drink that.”