Page 43 of His One True Wish

“That’s what I call her. She was super-pissed, throwing pebbles at your car.”

“Yeah, I remember that part.” He sighed and ran a hand through his auburn hair.

“So, it’s hers?” I said, pointing at the robe.

“Um huh.” He nodded, his lips buttoned up tight. He still held my duffle in his hands, and he pushed it toward me. “I thought you might want your bag. I didn’t open it, but I’m assuming you brought more clothes.”

“Yes, I brought more clothes,” I said, snatching the bag out of his hands. “I’m not a total idiot.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

The last time I’d been half-dressed, Axl couldn’t tear his eyes away from my boobs. Now he avoided eye contact with me like I was Medusa. I glanced down at Bear Coat’s robe.“Should I take it off? You don’t seem super comfortable to see me in this.”

“No, nope,” he said. “It’s fine. Glad you are warm.”

“I should change.”

“Yeah, that’s great. Thanks,” he said and turned to go down the hall.

I sighed and walked away, annoyed that I was annoyed, and regretting every dirty thought I’d had about Axl.

“Hey, Billie,” he said, standing at the end of the hall. “The robe looks better on you, in case you were wondering.”

He stepped into the great room before I could reply. He’d gotten the last word, but I had to hand it to him, his words slayed.

I hung the robe back on the bedroom door and pulled on my only extra clothes, which happened to be a pair of black leggings and a long-sleeved, V-neck tee. My hair half-dry, the power still out, it was no blow-dryer for me. Clothes on, I walked into the great room to see Axl on the ground in front of our Scrabble board. There were two cups of tea beside the game, also a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. He’d lit two gas lanterns, placing one on the coffee table and one in the kitchen. The flickering light gave the room a golden glow and took the edge off the glaring snow outside.

“I just checked, and my phone still has no signal,” Axl said, “in case you were wondering.”

“I was.” I sat down across from him, the heat from the fire warming my back.

He looked up at me, the corner of his mouth rising in what can only be called a wicked grin. “How about a little poker?” He picked up a deck of cards and shuffled, the cards clicking together efficiently as if he were a dealer in Vegas. “It’s time to move on from Scrabble.”

I was still annoyed about the robe, but I felt stupid caring about it. I needed to stop thinking about Axl as anything more than an acquaintance. It was like we were seatmates on an international flight. We shared a space, sometimes we bumped into each other, but in the end, we would land and go our separate ways.

“Fine,” I said, sighing. “I guess there is nothing else to do?”

“There is not,” he said, shuffling again. Cam’s ears pricked at the noise. “No bark, Cam,” he said proactively. “You play poker?”

“A little,” I said, giving him a sly shrug. The truth was that Ididplay poker. Gran and Mom loved cards, and we often played for nickels at the cabin. I spent more than a few nights winning and losing at the kitchen table.

He laughed and shuffled again, the cards clicking together. “That is the kind of ambiguous answer I’d expect from a gambler.”

“I’m not a gambler,” I said, making air quotes.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He poured whiskey into the two shot glasses and handed me one. “Time to play and drink.”

I picked up the shot glass and held it to the flickering lamp light. “Are we just drinking, or is this now a drinking game?”

He shrugged. “Isn’t poker already a drinking game?”

“Smart ass,” I said, pouring the whiskey into my cup of tea. “I am not doing straight shots.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, throwing back a shot and smacking his lips. “I found a bottle you hadn’t smashed in the back corner of the cupboard.”

“Well, aren’t we lucky,” I said.

“Maybe we are.”

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