The Marriage Dare

She chooses the seat farthest from the door. Not uncommon. She wants to feel safer by seeing the exit, but that choice puts her further in the shadows, and when I sit down, I’m going to be between her and the door and she’s going to know it.

I don’t make her another drink. She has the remnants of her third whiskey. Instead, I pour a glass of water from the bar and set it in front of her. “You might need that.”

She smiles at me, that mega-watt smile that I already know is fake. It’s the same smile she gave the dealer right before she went all in on a hand she had a very small chance of winning. “That’s the only thing I’ll need. That and your checkbook.”

I laugh, “Of course.” I pull out a new deck of cards from the cabinet in the corner and show her that it’s sealed. “So you know I’m not cheating.”

“And how do you know I’m not cheating?” She holds up her small bag. “I could have pocket aces in here.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You want to show me inside the bag then?”

She giggles, a girly sound, and I think the whiskey might be hitting her more than she realizes, but she opens the bag. There’s nothing in it but a tube of lipstick and a pack of gum.

“I think I’m safe,” I say.

Monica leans forward, her eyes fastened on me with serious intensity. “I don’t think that. I think you’re dangerous.”

Sitting across from her but never breaking her gaze, I open the pack of cards. I never get tired of the feeling of fresh cards. It feels like peace and like coming home. I smile at her, intentionally letting warmth shine through. “How am I dangerous?”

“Handsome men are always dangerous,” she says, leaning over the table in a way that draws my eyes to her breasts. They’re very nearly spilling out of her dress, and I’d prefer them to be spilling into my hands. Maybe later I’ll have the pleasure of feeling them. “They can make you want things that are bad for you.”

“What sort of things? Two million dollars can’t possibly be bad for you.” I shuffle the cards a couple of times and set them down, then deal out chips for each of us. I give us a thousand dollars each in chips, which should be more than enough for this game.

“No, and you know that. What would be bad for me would be distracted by that smile of yours so that you can win as easily as you think you’re going to.”

I raise an eyebrow. Okay. Maybe Monica is more observant than I gave her credit for. But two can play at the flirting game, and here, in the context of this, I can flirt without feeling that familiar guilt that runs through my gut whenever I think of her and the desire I hold for her. Because wooing Monica is a means to a delicious end. “I’m not the only one who has a good smile. I think people could watch your lips all night.”

“Really?” she asks, blowing me a kiss.

“Really,” I say, shuffling the cards again and dealing. “I’ve always wanted to know how your lips taste.”

I see her breath catch, and her eyes darken. Perfect. She’s imagining what it would be like for me to kiss her, and it’s clear that she likes the idea. The only problem is that I like it too. I want to feel the way she’ll yield when I tease her mouth open and take it. Own it.

Keep yourself together, Daniel.

I look at my cards, just the edges of them. Two jacks. Not the worst, not the best either. It limits my possibilities, but it’s a good hand right out of the gate. No need to give away that fact. Yet. “Your bet.”

Monica looks at her cards, and I can tell that she’s trying to keep her face blank. But she doesn’t. Not to me. Not when I’ve had years of reading people’s smallest expressions trying to decipher everything. Her brow furrows just a tiny bit and her lips purse for a second before she manages herself. Not exactly a bad hand, but she’s determined to work with it regardless.

“Call.”

I nod and knock the table. I don’t need to raise the bet yet. We’re fine. I deal out the flop. Four, three, and queen. No help to me there, but I glance at Monica and see her brows rise just a hint, and her fingers twitch. This does help her then. Very well. She swallows, and pushes a hundred-dollar chip into the center of the table. “A hundred.”

All right, she’s gaining a little confidence. I smile at her. It’s my best smile. The one I use when I want women to melt in front of me. And it works. She’s breathing faster, looking at me. “I call you, and I raise you another hundred.”