Colorado 01 The Gamble (10 page)

“Yeah we have.”

“I haven’t even seen a menu!” I said, my
voice raised.

“You’re gettin’ a buffalo burger with jack
cheese and onion rings, just like me.”

I shook my head, those short, jerky shakes
and I wasn’t certain I’d ever really done that before but I seemed
to do it a lot around Max.

“But –”

“Go blow your nose, Duchess.”

“But –”

“You a vegetarian?”

“No.”

“Then trust me.”

I leaned toward him and stated on a hiss,
“You’re impossible.”

He leaned toward me, grinning, and returned,
“And you’re cuter than hell.”

“Don’t call me cute when I’m angry!” I
exclaimed, now totally loud.

His eyes went over my shoulder before coming
back to me then he asked, “You want the whole restaurant in on our
conversation?”

I looked in the direction his eyes pointed
and saw a lot of people, including Trudy, Sarah, Harry
and
Shauna as well as others were
watching.

Then I turned back to Max, gave him a
glare which would have melted paint off the walls but didn’t appear
to affect him in the slightest and I flounced (yes,
flounced
but I decided I could forgive
myself for flouncing as it was definitely a flouncing moment) in
the direction where I hoped there would be restrooms.

Luckily, I was correct.

Once there, I blew my nose, washed my hands
and looked in the mirror wishing I’d brought my purse so I could
fix my lipstick.

Then I pulled in breath through my nose,
rested my hands against the sink and whispered to my reflection,
“What on earth am I doing?”

You’re living your life, Neenee
Bean,
Charlie said into
my head, he sounded pleased and I watched my eyes go wide in the
mirror.

Then I looked behind me. Then I looked under
the two stalls behind me. The room was empty, except for me.

“
I’m going insane,” I muttered. “Going
insane in the snowy mountains like Jack Nicholson in
The Shining
except without the spooky
hotel.”

No one replied because no one was there.

I decided being alone wasn’t good. I was
hearing voices when I was alone.
Charlie’s
voice and as much as I wanted to hear Charlie’s
voice, would have paid every penny I had, sold everything I owned,
made a deal with the devil to hear Charlie’s voice, I didn’t want
to hear it
in my head
.

I walked back into the restaurant smiling at
Sarah and Trudy along the way, noticing Harry avoid my eyes and
Shauna stare daggers at me and then I looked at Max.

He was eating an onion ring while he slid
out of the booth.

“I see you didn’t wait for me,” I noted, my
eyes on his chewing mouth then I slid into the booth.

“I ate a ring, Duchess, relax,” he returned
as he sat in the booth beside me.

“Whatever,” I muttered and looked at my food
of which there was a lot. The burger itself could feed four people.
All of it was in a red, oval, plastic basket protected by a sheet
of thin, white, wax paper.

It looked utterly delicious.

I reached for the ketchup.

“Got burgers in England?” Max asked.

“Yes,” I answered, squirting ketchup in a
pile by the onion rings and not sharing with him that English
burgers were not much to write home about.

“Buffalo burgers?”

“At gourmet burger places, yes,” I answered,
dipping in a ring.

“Babe?” Max called and I looked at him,
onion ring halfway to my mouth. “Prepare to be dazzled,” he
finished on a grin then turned to his food.

I turned to mine.

He wasn’t wrong, the food was so good, I was
definitely dazzled.

* * * * *

“Sleep,” I muttered, wandering drowsily into
the A-Frame and sliding my coat down my arms as Max flipped on a
light.

“Honey, I told you, you shouldn’t have had
the hot fudge sundae,” Max said from behind me and I heard the door
close.

He was right and he was wrong. The burger
and onion rings more than filled me up but I saw the hot fudge
sundae slide by on Trudy’s tray going to someone else’s table and I
couldn’t help myself. They didn’t have hot fudge in England not
like they had at home.

And anyway, I was on vacation.

Even so, the hot fudge sundae was definitely
overkill.

But it wasn’t the hot fudge sundae making me
drowsy. It was the fact that we spent the last two hours sitting in
a bar called Drake’s a block down from the restaurant, listening to
Max’s friend Josh play guitar and sing while Max drank Budweiser
and I drank Fat Tire. Josh was good, really good but even so I
ended up slouched into Max’s side, his arm around me, my head on
his shoulder. I knew I shouldn’t be slouching with my body resting
against his and my head on his shoulder but I couldn’t help it. It
was comfortable, the beer tasted great but was mellowing me out,
the music was nice, my belly was super full and I was tired.

I hooked my coat and purse in the closet,
closed the door and turned to Max.

“Who gets the bed tonight?” I asked and he
walked up to me and stopped, toe to toe, and I was too tired to
back away.

His hand wrapped around the back of my head
and he pulled me toward him and I was too tired to fight that
too.

Then he kissed my forehead.

I blinked at his throat as his sweet kiss
hit me like a freight train. It felt good, better than any kiss I’d
ever had and it wasn’t even on my lips.

“You go on up,” he muttered against my
forehead, dropped his hand, turned and walked away, shrugging off
his coat.

I stared at his back and decided tomorrow I
was definitely out of there. I might not even go to Denver. I might
drive straight to Kansas City.

I was not, however, going to pass up
sleeping in his bed that was how tired I was.

Therefore, not giving him the chance to
change his mind, I called, “Goodnight.”

“’Night, Duchess,” he called back, draping
his coat on a dining room chair and not looking at me.

I turned and hurried as fast as my tired
feet would take me up the stairs.

I rooted my stuff out of my suitcase, washed
and moisturized my face in the bathroom, brushed my teeth and
changed into my nightgown. I left my stuff in the bathroom,
deciding I’d pack it in the morning.

I opened the door, checked if the coast was
clear, and then hurried to the bed.

Even as tired as I was, the lights were on
downstairs; Amazing Looking Max was in the house; he’d bought me
dinner, a hot fudge sundae and at least four beers during what
seemed a lot like a date even though we came home together, and it
was a date I enjoyed, even when we were clashing or, maybe,
especially when we were clashing, so I didn’t expect sleep to come
quickly.

I was asleep within minutes. Out like a
light.

That was why I didn’t feel Max sliding into
bed beside me fifteen minutes later.

The Bluff

I woke up, my eyes opening and I registered
immediately firstly, that it was the dead of night, dark with a
hint of moonlight and secondly, that I was awake like I was ready
to take on the day. This was likely because if I was at home I
would already be up, taking on the day.

Then I registered that I didn’t have my head
on a pillow. Against my cheek I could feel sleek skin and hard
muscle. It hit me that I had my head on Max’s shoulder, my torso
was part on him, part pressed to his side, my arm was resting
across his belly and my knee was cocked, my thigh thrown over his.
His arm was under me and up my back, his hand resting at my
waist.

Oh my
God.

I didn’t speculate about what he was doing
there, I just thought about getting away.

I rolled to my back and then to my side,
wondering if I could get my car keys out of his jeans and my
suitcase to the car without waking him up.

I slid partly across the bed but I felt
movement then a strong arm hooked around my belly. A soft,
surprised gasp escaped from my mouth when I was hauled back. I hit
the wall of his warm, hard frame and Max leaned his chest into me,
cocking a knee, taking mine with it so his heavy thigh was resting
against mine.

“Max,” I whispered.

No answer.

“Max,” I whispered louder.

“Mm?”

Then I felt his face in my hair and my body
froze as his hand slid up my belly and his fingers curled around my
breast.

I sucked in breath and held myself still. He
didn’t move or say anything more.

“Max,” I whispered and his name was barely a
murmur as evidently my voice was frozen too.

Again, no answer except the heavy weight of
him settled deeper in my back.

He was asleep but he hadn’t let go of my
breast.

I could, and should, lurch out of his arms
and escape him and his house, maybe throwing a tantrum between the
former and the latter.

He had no business detaining me, keeping my
car keys, bossing me around, crawling into bed with me while I
slept, even if he had nursed me back to health and made me
oatmeal.

But I’d never been held like this, not in my
whole life, and I couldn’t ignore the fact that it felt good. So.
Very. Good. To be held, in bed, in the arms of tall, strong,
handsome man. Unbelievable.

And it was more than that. I tried not to
think about it, to let it penetrate my brain but, in Max’s bed, in
his arms, I not only (obviously) wasn’t alone, I didn’t feel
lonely. I felt warm, safe, protected with his big body cocooning
mine. And it felt good.

In fact, since I walked into his A-Frame,
except for the time I spent in the backseat of the rental, I hadn’t
felt lonely. Not in the times I woke up during my illness when Max
was there or even when he wasn’t and knowing he was close. Not even
yesterday when I
was
alone. It
had been a long time since I felt that safe contentment of knowing
my solitude would be fleeting, gone before the wretched loneliness
settled back in.

And it was more than even that. His hand
at my breast, his leg cocked into mine, it felt sexy and it
made
me
feel sexy. I
hadn’t felt that way in awhile, a
long
while, too long and I missed it.

Niles and I, when we first met, had a
healthy relationship in every aspect. But once I said yes to
marriage for some reason that changed. The sex came less and less
frequently until now it’d been months since we’d been intimate.
More than a few months. In fact, way too many.

Niles and I didn’t live together. He liked
his modern three bedroom flat in Bristol with its view of the
river. He could walk to work from there and practically anywhere
else he needed to go.

My place was huge, way too much space for
me but I liked my rambling, four bedroom semi-detached mainly
because it had been Charlie’s. But Niles couldn’t walk to work from
my place. He’d have to take a bus which he would
never
do. And taxis every day would
cost a mint. Unlike me, Niles
was
a
barrister and he made really good money not to mention his family
came from it. Still, a taxi every day was a bit much.

Charlie had bought the house for song and
started to fix it up and when he was gone I’d made it my mission to
finish his work and I did. I couldn’t let it go because it had been
Charlie’s and because I’d put so much into it but Niles had no
interest in moving there.

We were at a stalemate, Niles telling me
to put it on the market and move in with him, me resisting. And
while I was resisting I buried the feeling of resentment that if
Niles paid attention, if he
listened
, he’d know how much that house meant to me and I wouldn’t
have to resist.

Furthermore, these days Niles and I rarely
saw each other during the week. Maybe to have a drink, sometimes
I’d go to his house and make dinner. But we spent most of our
weekends together usually me at his house again spending the night
just sleeping.

But he didn’t hold me when we slept. We
didn’t make love. He didn’t curl his fingers around my breast in
the unconscious but still possessive way Max was doing at that very
moment.

And even though I tried not to think about
any of that, told myself to move, to get out of there, to get away
from Max, that it was insane to lie in this man’s arms, I couldn’t
do it.

Instead I laid in the dark, the moonlight
bright and coming through the A-Frame window, held by Max and I
decided to allow myself a moment of insanity.

He was asleep; he didn’t know what he was
doing, what I was allowing him to do. I was fully awake; there was
no way I’d get back to sleep. I’d slide away from him later, after
I let myself have this. This haven of safety, this feeling of being
desired and, if I pretended, which I decided to do, even cherished,
this feeling of being anything but alone and the opposite of
lonely.

I let my body relax and I snuggled deeper
into Max. In response, his fingers automatically tightened on my
breast and he settled further into me. My torso went into the bed,
his hand pinned under me, his chest pressed into my back.

I closed my eyes. That felt even better.

I slid my hand along his steely arm,
allowing myself another forbidden treat then I pushed my hand under
my body, my fingers wrapping around his strong wrist and holding
on.

I lay there a long time, probably hours,
dozing sometimes, sometimes alert. When I was alert, I took that
time to memorize the feel of what I had in that moment, over and
over, liking it enough to allow myself a bit more, just a bit. I’d
move away later.