Page 25 of Call My Bluff
He reached forward and took a single kernel of popcorn from the package of Orville Redenbacher’s best. He’d slowed down his own consumption to be sure she’d have enough left for the restof her evening, but no sooner had his hand touched the bag than she leaned over and pulled a gallon-sized Ziploc of kettle corn from her backpack. He stared in both amusement and surprise as she unzipped the top and started munching as if this were completely normal behavior. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a problem?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Corn is a vegetable.”
“Yeah,cornis a vegetable, but the salt and butter it’s covered in are not.”
She held a piece of her emergency stash up to the light before tossing it into her mouth. “This is made with brown sugar,” she pointed out.
Noah simply shook his head. There was no reasoning with this woman when it came to popcorn.
“Is this your last exam?” he asked instead, nodding toward the open book on the table. The upside-down chapter headers suggested a topic on abnormal child psychology.
Olivia let out a tired-sounding sigh. “Yeah. One more tomorrow, and then the girls and I are spending a week in the mountains.”
Noah leaned forward earnestly. “You’re sure you can’t fit me in your suitcase?” he joked.
Her expression did not change. “Yes, I’m sure. This is a girls-only trip; no boys allowed.”
“But I’m not a boy, I’m a man.”
“Not until you’re thirty, remember? And besides, they’ll have men there.”
Noah grunted and leaned back, stretching his legs out beneath the table. One of his boots bumped against hers, and he brought his ankles together—trapping her feet between his calves.
She met his challenging gaze and narrowed her eyes. Then she shifted in her seat, and the boots she’d been wearing went limp. He glanced beneath the table and found them empty, while both her socked feet were tucked underneath her, cross-legged.
Noah felt his face fall. “You’re no fun,” he grumbled, and Olivia shook her head slowly, as if humoring a small child.
“What is it you think you want from me, Campbell?” she asked. “I don’t have time for a relationship.”
“Well, then don’t worry,” he replied flippantly. “I’m not picturing you in any long white dresses. Shortblackdresses, however...”
Olivia popped another handful of kettle corn into her mouth. “Okay, then are you fishing for a friends-with-benefits situation? Because that’s not going to happen, either.”
He smirked. “I want to know if you ever think about thealmost,” he said, and a flicker of something foreign crossed her face—something very close to guilt.
Like maybe that wasexactlywhat she’d been thinking about.
“No,” she said, though she glanced down at her textbook as she did. “You and I arejust friends, Campbell, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”
Noah did his best to rein in a smile. “Say that again, Pix, with more conviction this time,” he taunted.
Olivia looked up, embers flaring to life in her eyes. “Isaidwe are just friends, and that’s how it’s going to stay. Whatever headway you think you’ve made with me is futile.”
He rose to his feet and rounded the end of the table, keeping his eyes on hers as if stalking his prey. She sat with her arms crossed over her chest, every bit of her body language warning him to keep his distance, but pushing her buttons had becomehis new favorite pastime, and he loved the sparks that ignited when he found the right ones.
He pushed his luck to the point of recklessness and stepped behind her chair, her sharp, sweet perfume pulling him in like a bee to a flower—exactly as it had in the store. He tweaked one of those tempting tendrils along her jaw and then leaned down until his mouth was right beside her ear. “I think about thealmost, Pix. All the time,” he admitted softly.
She whipped her head around then, her mouth open to say something in reply, but Noah didn’t wait to hear what it was. Instead, he flashed her a smile and turned his back, making his way down the aisle in the direction he’d originally come. “Try not to miss me!” he called over his shoulder.
An unmistakable huff of female anger punctuated his challenge, and he chuckled as he turned toward the lobby stairs. He didn’t have Olivia Cohen all figured out—far from it, in fact—but hedidknow she was a bad liar.
And she haddefinitelythought about it.
Olivia checked herphone the next afternoon as her plane pulled into the gate at the small airport in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. There were two messages from her parents; one from her brother, Danny; and another from Noah. Apparently, he’d rigged the creepy doll to drop from the ceiling of Conner’s closet, and its appearance had prompted the invention of a few new words.
Noah’s voice filled Olivia’s mind as she read the other texts.
“I think about the almost, Pix. All the time.”
