She bites her lip. “My mouth?”
“Mmm-hmm. And the things that fall out of it, too.” I lean close and brush her ear with my breath. “There are also some things I would like to put in it. My tongue, for starters.”
“Oh,” she says. Really, more like “ohhh,” but it’s quiet enough not to attract the attention of the boys, who are busily constructing a complicated board out of a series of hexagonal pieces.
“You sit here,” Madden says, pointing me to my seat, “and you sit here, Mom, and Jonah, you’re here.”
I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but I actually really like the game. It’s complex enough to be interesting and simple enough not to make my brain hurt. There’s a lot of interaction and a bit of screw-your-buddy, and before long Elle and I are locked in a tight contest for first place. She takes the “longest road” card, and then I steal it back, but she quickly retaliates by grabbing the “largest army” card. We both have nine victory points and need only one to win. And—wouldn’t you know it—we’re competing over a single intersection. Whoever gets the resources he or she needs to build a settlement there is going to win.
It’s my turn. And all I need is to convince someone to trade me a forest hex resource—lumber—and I’ll have what I need to win. I try Madden first, but he doesn’t have one, and then I try Jonah, but he doesn’t have one, and then I turn to Elle and say, “I don’t suppose you have any wood you’d give me,” and she gives me this thousand-watt seductive smile and mouths, “Isn’t that my line?”
Then, while I’m still trying to find a single functioning brain cell, she asks the boys, “How dumb does he think I am? If I give him my wood, he’ll win.”
Not dumb at all. Smart as a whip, fun to be around, and really fucking pretty, with wisps of her blond hair tumbling out of the messy bun and her mouth all glossy and that sheen of happy coming off her skin.
And I realize:
I’m not at all unhappy to let her win this game, except that it means the night’s over and Jonah and I have to go back to our side of the fence.