Page 24 of Saving Mr. Bell

Arlo’s lips quirked in a way that told me that despite his protestations to the contrary, there was more to the story. “I found him in bed with his costar.”

“Double ouch.”

“And the worst of it,” Arlo admitted, “was that I’d found my husband in bed with another man, and I didn’t really care.” He dropped his gaze to the table, his hair falling over his brow. “So yeah, it’s safe to say that getting married was not one of my better decisions, and that’s putting it mildly.”

“You don’t know if you don’t try.” As an attempt to make him feel better, it was weak.

“Trying is dating and then living with them, not immediately putting a ring on it.”

“Alright, Beyonce.” At least that got a smile. “So…” I announced with an eyebrow wiggle. “Strip poker! We’veestablished that your not-husband won’t care, so what’s your issue?”

“I don’t really have to spell that out, do I, Rudolf?”

“You’re worried that one glimpse of my naked chest will have you overcome with lust.”

“No.”

“Well, then.” I stretched my legs out in front of me, nudging Arlo’s shoe with my bare toes. “You’ve got an advantage over me.” I dropped my gaze, doing a quick inventory of how many items I wore, and realizing that perhaps sweatpants and a T-shirt weren’t the best starting position for a game of strip poker. “Thank God, I’m wearing underwear.”

Chapter Ten

Arlo

Three items of clothing! Was that all that stood between me and a naked Rudolf? God help me. That quip from Rudolf about being overcome by lust at the sight of his naked torso hadn’t helped either, my denial a lie, when that’s exactly what had happened when he’d stripped off earlier.

Before I could think of a suitable excuse not to play, Rudolf dealt a hand with a flourish that dared me to protest. Heeyeballed me as I slid the cards off the table, fanned them out in my hand, and studied them. “I’m going to win anyway,” he said with a smirk. “So it’s you who should worry about being naked.”

Funnily enough, that didn’t make me feel any better. The cards were part of a set, complete with plastic poker chips to use as a stake. Rudolf won the first hand with a king to my ten, my left boot the sacrifice. My right boot went the following round to a pair of threes.

“See,” Rudolf boasted. “Told you I was going to win.”

Cocky little shit!I jerked my head toward the piano only a few meters away. “Are we going to talk about that?”

Rudolf’s gaze couldn’t have moved any slower if someone had tied ropes to his eyeballs and dragged them there. It lingered, though, the first time I’d seen him even look at it. “Not tonight.”

“Fair enough. Just... I’m here, you know, when you want to talk about it.”

Rudolf’s nod was jerky, and I felt bad for bringing it up. Whether what I’d said had distracted him, or he was due a loss, anyway, he lost the next round. Which meant being subjected to Rudolf dragging off his T-shirt like he spent evenings moonlighting as a stripper. “Just… take it off,” I begged when the elaborate act strayed too far into titillation that I was a long way from being immune to.

Rudolf winked. “I thought you might appreciate a bit of a show.”

“I don’t.”I do. Too much.

Rudolf pulled the T-shirt the rest of the way off and flung it in my direction, forcing me to catch it before it hit me in the face.

“Idiot!” My irritation might have been convincing if I hadn’t laughed, Rudolf joining in.

The next two rounds saw my socks reunited with my boots.

“Three, two,” Rudolf announced.

“What?”

He grinned. “I have two items of clothing left. You have three. Assuming you’re wearing underwear, that is?”

“I’m wearing underwear.”

“Glad to hear it. I’d hate to be sitting here with a man with loose morals.”

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