Page 40 of Play the Game

Scottie squeezes her eyes shut before turning and grabbing one more thing out of her car. I almost poke at her again, but as soon as we’re both inside my house and the door shuts, I’m suddenly aware of the situation we’ve found ourselves in.

My expansive open floor plan suddenly feels smaller.

The air is tight, and we’re both tense.

Our steps echo as Scottie follows me to the stairs like a little duckling.

When I open the door to our bedroom, she steps in hesitantly and glances around quickly.

My bedroom is larger than her entire apartment, but I keep my mouth shut and observe her as she takes in the room.

“You can take the left side.”

Scottie spins like the wind. The dress bag crinkles in her arm, and her eyes widen. “Wait, what?”

I nod to the left side of the bed, placing her boxes on the floor. “I sleep on the right, so you can have the left.”

Her brows snap together. “I’m not sleeping in bed with you.”

I’m beginning to think she just likes to argue with me.

“Well, have fun sleeping on the couch, then. I don’t have a guest room.”

In what seems to be complete disbelief, her jaw slacks, and her long eyelashes flutter against one another. “How do you not have a guest room?! This house is huge.”

“It’s not that big,” I say. “And let me correct myself. I have other rooms, but they’re unfurnished, so it's either you sleep in bed with me, on the couch downstairs, or the floor. You pick.”

I have a fully furnished guest room, courtesy of my mother, but I act like I don’t just to spite my new wife and the horror on her face at the thought of sleeping beside me.

She rolls her pretty blue eyes, and it does something to me.

With irritation, I turn to leave her to unpack alone. Before I get too far, I stop in the doorway and grip the top of the frameto settle myself. My back faces her, and my fingers dig into the wood. “Ring is on the counter.”

My muscles tense when I hear her sarcastic huff of breath.

“How romantic,” she mumbles.

As I head downstairs, I silently hope with each step that I’ve made the right decision in marrying a poor stripper, with what seems to be a big heart and a sarcastic tongue, to fix my reputation when it’s all said and done.

Nineteen

SCOTTIE

The coffee is too bitter,and I wish I had a biscotti to go with it, but there is no better way to wake up than with a pot of coffee brewing and some quick stretches to soothe my sore muscles from sleeping on the couch.

It’s a comfortable couch, much softer than my thrift store couch with the torn seams. I’ve slept in worse places, but I was crammed on my side all night, and apparently didn’t move an inch, which caused a kink to fester in my neck.

I glance around my new home, feeling more like an intruder than anything.

It’s only been one night, but I woke up with the same heavy feeling in my stomach, silently tossing around my new name.

Scottie Olson.

The little black box on the shiny, marble counter continues to pull my attention, and I swear it keeps getting closer. I glance at the winding stairs, trying to hear if my new husband is awake, and then move back to the box.

Is it moving closer, or am I crazy?

With shaky hands, I place my coffee cup down on the counter and slowly reach for the box.

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