Dead Man's Bluff

by Adriana Law

  He caught her staring at him. Ogling him was a more appropriate word. He seemed to be oblivious to her thoughts though, thankfully. “What?” He shrugged a shoulder picking through his bowl. “I can either sit here or lie down beside you, which will mean you’ll have to be willing to share your blanket.”

  She motioned at the two oversized chairs placed creatively in the u-shape sitting area. “There are two other chairs. Why don’t you sit in one of them?”

  “Watching T.V from weird angles bothers my neck.” He cracked his neck for show. Bullshit. His neck didn’t bother him.

  She rolled her eyes pushing herself up, drawing her legs in so they’d no longer be anywhere near the sex appeal oozing off him.

  He gave her a devilish grin. “You never answered… what are we watching.”

  “I’M watching, My Best Friend’s Wedding.”

  Drew groaned, but was already focused on the movie. Occasionally he’d laugh this deep rumble that clacked along her spine causing weird sensations throughout her entire body, but mostly he made wise-cracks about how cheesy some of the lines were. He was an all action kind of guy, and there were a few moments when he acted bored out of his mind. It was during these times he’d do something really annoying like yanking on her little toe to hear the knuckle crack.

  “Can you not go a second without touching me?” She finally snapped whenever he squeezed one of her kneecaps causing her to flinch and smile. Smiling was the last thing she wanted to do around Drew. She was too busy pretending she hated him.

  A corner of his mouth inched its way up mischievously. Dammit. He knew how to work her. He deposited the empty bowl on the floor and came back up still grinning. “You’re just so tempting whenever you’re all adorable and pouty like that.” He made a movement towards her, a slow crawl, his browns eyes intensifying. “It makes me want to snuggle with you.”

  She planted a foot in the center of his chest putting a halt to his progression. “You come any closer and I swear I’ll knee you in the nuts.”

  He arched a brow. “Such hostility… I guess that means cuddling is out of the question?”

  “Completely.”

  He fell back into his original place with a sigh. “Alright then, it’s your loss.”

  Megan snorted. They continued to watch the movie right up to the part where the character Julia Roberts was playing declared her love for her best friend, Michael. It was awkward, the words being spoken on the movie…

  “Michael, I love you. I’ve loved you for nine years. I’ve just been too arrogant and scared to realize it, and, well, now, I’m scared, so –I-I-I realize this comes at a very inopportune time, but I really have this gigantic favor to ask of you. Choose me. M-marry me. Let me make you happy. Oh, that sounds like three favors, doesn’t it? B-but…”

  He cleared his throat, the carefree playful side gone, replaced by a scowl. “This is so fucking lame… give me the remote.”

  “I think it’s sweet,” she challenged, her gaze narrowing on his face.

  “Yeah, you would. Give me the remote. I watched your movie, now it’s my turn.”

  “No. You’re not turning my movie off! I was here first!”

  He held out a hand, wagging fingers in a gesture of ‘hand it over’. After a few moments of nothing he glanced over at her with a bemused expression. The blazing fire that was missing from her eyes had returned. He added, “I’m asking politely.”

  The remote disappeared behind her and her chin jutted out with the same ol’ defiance. “No. I know you’re usually accustomed to getting what you want, but…”

  His brown eyes darkened, “Trust me, I don’t always get what I want. Now, hand it over before this gets ugly.”

  Her belly flipped like a trout on a riverbank. She didn’t have long to contemplate what he’d meant because within seconds he lunged, propelling all his weight at her as his arms snaked around her waist, hands groping for what she held behind her. She was pinned, attempting to writhe out from under his weight, giggling, “No, I’m watching the end my movie! It’s the best part!”

  He was looming over her when she felt him capture one of her wrist, their gazes collided and held. He offered her his best cocky, self-assured grin, “Oh, I have every intention of taking the remote by force. I’d go ahead and surrender if I were you, baby.”

  “Surrender?” she scoffed. “That’s your problem, Drew Mackenzie, you give up too easily.” He grinned knowing damn well she was referring to a whole lot more than what was going on at the moment. She managed to squirm her free arm out from behind her, and chucked the remote clear across the room. It hit the floor with a thud, skid across the hardwood floor slamming into the baseboard.

  “Did you just fucking throw the remote?” His mouth fell open, and he shifted some of his weight as he checked over his shoulder to make sure she did indeed throw it to keep him from having it. She took every advantage of his stunned state by working her way off the sofa: head first, shoulders next, then the rest of her slinked to the floor. On her hands and knees she crawled within a foot of the thing when a hand closed around her ankle and yanked, then a strong arm encircled her waist. She squealed, reaching and inching closer to her goal, determined, her fingertip grazing the hard plastic, but not close enough to actually grab it. “Let go of me!”

  Suddenly she was flipped onto her back, her arms pinned above her head. He was positioned between her bent legs, both of them breathing heavy from exertion, or something more. She swallowed hard, “If you give me the remote and let me finish watching my movie… I’ll sleep on the sofa and let you have the bed.”

  He flashed a wicked smile, his thick lashes lowered as he gaze swept over her, helpless underneath him. “I don’t want the bed… unless you’re in it.” He secured both her wrist with one hand, brought the other hand down, skimming the hem of her sweater with a finger. His smile vanished. All of his focus on the patch of skin showing above the waist of her shorts. “What I do want is to know why you’re wearing a damn sweater when it’s hot as hell in here? Is it your fiancé? Has he forbidden you to wear anything remotely sexy? Is he one of those guys?” His fingers were hovering, teasing, giving her every indication that what he really wanted was to get underneath her clothes.

  “No. He’s not one of those guys. Conner would never tell me what to wear,” she snarled.

  “He would if he’s smart. I remember that day in the rain, out by the barn… you were sexy as hell all wet. I wouldn’t have wanted any other guy seeing you like that. Only me.” The next pass of his fingers the tips skimmed her lower stomach touching actual flesh. The action, the lightest of touches caused her to suck in a breath and chills to rise all over her flesh and a throb between her legs. His mouth hovered just over hers as if he was going to kiss her, but all he did was grin, teasing her, all of it a game. “You were wearing a white tank and the rain had practically made it see through.” Another sweep of his lips near hers, and then he glanced down, his fingers attempting to work the hem of her shirt up, little by little. Warm breath in her ear, “You could see your nipples underneath. Hard. Begging me to taste them. It was a complete turn on. Bailey was so jealous she couldn’t see straight.” He chuckled. “She bitched about what a hoe you were all night. Accused me of being interested, which I was. ”

  Fingertips/skin/chills.

  Megan whimpered and struggled in his hold, her green eyes pleading with him. “Drew, don’t… please...”

  He finally released the hold he had on her wrist and moved lower down her body. “Why not? It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” His head dipped and he placed warm, feather-light kisses across her lower stomach. “We just need to get this shirt out of the way.” His tongue made a path to her belly button.

  She fought harder, kept her shirt held securely in place so he was unable to go any higher with it. Mortified is what she would be if he saw her imperfection. She squeezed her legs together trying to crush his shoulders, anything to get his attention. Her voice cracked, her
fingers threading through his hair, threatening to yank it out if he didn’t listen. “Dammit Drew, I’m serious! Stop it!”

  Then she felt it, him laughing against her stomach. He blew on her skin, the loud farting sound vibrating out over her belly, and then he let her go. He was still laughing as his eyes lifted to see her crawling backwards across the floor, as far away from him as the wall would allow her to get.

  His face went pale and his smile vanished immediately at the sight of the tears rolling down her cheeks. He reached for her, “Filly, I’m sorry. I was just messing around…I didn’t mean …”

  She propelled herself at him, her fists pounding the hard muscle in his chest. She screamed, “You’re an asshole! Don’t ever do that to me again! If I say not to do something, be a decent human being for once and listen!”

  He managed to get control of one of her right wrist, but she still came at him with the other. “Shh, calm down. Talk to me...what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to talk to you! Do you not get that? I don’t want to do anything with you!” her voice lowered, through it still held the same fury, “I want you to stop trying.” Slap! Her free hand came across the side of his cheek, before he seized that hand too. He worked his jaw, his face already turning red from where she’d slapped him.

  Now holding both of her hands he forced her to look at him, really look at him. “Stop it, Megan, Dammit! Stop trying to injure me and listen. I’m sorry.” His chest ached at the sight of her crying. The only other woman he’d ever seen cry was his mother, and this made him feel as helpless as that had. He wanted to fix her. Make it better somehow.

  Her voice cracked, “You did us both a favor two years ago… you and I are not good for each other! We’re a disaster waiting to happen!”

  He tugged her up against him, his breath hot at her ear, his hands loosening a little around her wrist. “Maybe so, but we’ll never be satisfied with anyone else. It’s no different than before. You still want me, admit it!”

  She wrenched both her wrist free, pushed against his chest, and stood up. The diamond flashed on her finger. “Everything is different! I am engaged. Engaged! I know Mackenzie’s are notorious for chasing anything that has tits and breathes, but just stop it okay? I. DO. NOT. WANT. YOU! I’m over it! It was over it a long time ago!”

  His entire demeanor changed from hopeful to intimidating as hell, the muscles along his jaw ticked under the skin as he stood up glaring down at her. “I. Am. Not. My. Father! Quit comparing me to him!”

  “Tell that to all the women you’ve screwed and left.”

  “Okay, I’ll start with the first one. I am not my fucking father!”

  Her gaze narrowed, “I’m surprised you can remember back that far. It took you what? Two weeks to end up in some other girl’s bed! Then your numbers exploded from there. ”

  “You have a major issue with the girls, don’t you?”

  She laughed out a, “No. I don’t care who you’ve had sex with!”

  “Liar. You’re dying to ask me how many…Go ahead, let’s get it over with! ”

  “You are so arrogant! I’ve never seen anything like it! I don’t give a shit how many girls you’ve screwed!”

  “Okay, well, I’m asking… how many guys have you been with since me? Is Conner the only one? Or have your numbers ‘exploded’?”

  “Are you serious? This isn’t about sex! It’s about me coming here to help sell the ranch and the whole time I’ve been here you’ve done nothing but try to lure me back into your bed!”

  A corner of his mouth lifted, “How’s that not about sex?”

  “Ugh! You are hopeless!! Everything is one big joke to you!” She raised her hands in surrender. “You know what, Conner was right… Paul needs to hire a realtor. I’ve had one call from the ad I placed in the paper, and I can’t…I can’t deal with you anymore!” Suddenly she was being dragged, a strong grip on her wrist. “What are you doing? Let go of me!” He towed her along behind him headed toward the…where was he taking her? To the bedroom! With this realization came the explosion of butterflies under her rib cage. “Have you finally lost your mind?” she squeaked out. Her feet squealed over the floor as she tried to resists but didn’t even manage to slow him down.

  He didn’t answer. Dear Lord…she’d pushed him into doing something rash, something unexpected, something she wasn’t sure she’d fight if he tried. Letting go of her wrist Drew coerced her into the bedroom blocking any attempts she made to dart by him with his body.

  Her cheeks blazed, just like the rest of her. “Think about what you’re doing…” spilled out, only to be cut off by…

  “Jesus, I’m not going to rape you!” He cocked his head, frowning. “Is that really what you think of me?”

  When she didn’t answer, he cursed and shook his head. “I’m sorry you have such a low opinion of me.” He slipped by her, opened the top drawer on the dresser and tossed a folder on the bed spilling out its contents: bank statements, legal documents… and a bank preapproval?

  “What’s this?” She asked lowering her eyes to the piece of paper she’d sifted out of the chaos. Her forehead creased, her green eyes rising to meet his dead on. “You applied for a loan?”

  “Yes, for the ranch.” He spread his arms wide, “You have your buyer. You’ve got what you’ve wanted, ” he dropped his arms back to his sides leaning in next to her ear as he stalked by her, “You can go home now, Filly, you’re services are no longer needed!” ♠

  Twenty

  Drew slumped against the porch post gazing out through the sheets of rain. He took a long pull off the cigarette, and then gave it a flick out into the soggy yard. Burying his hands in the pockets of the baggy black hoodie he’d thrown on to go out to have a smoke. He replayed the accounts of the last few days in his mind. He hadn’t come here to fight, that’s exactly what he was trying to avoid. He could do plenty of that staying right where he was with his father, a miserable existence, beating his head against a brick wall, nothing ever changing. It seemed like that was all him and Filly ever did, was fight. He was sick of fighting, especially with her.

  Maybe some things aren’t meant to be fixed once they’re broken. Maybe they were beyond fixable.

  He dragged the pack of Marlboros out of his pocket and tapped out another one. Quitting no longer seemed like an option. Instead he was chain smoking. He was regressing instead of moving forward. He had the damn cigarette wedged between his lips, a thumb prepared to strike the lighter when a scream erupted from inside the house causing his stomach to bottom out and an uneasy feeling to consume him. Panic. Dread.

  Megan!

  The pack of cigarettes and lighter clattered to the porch, dropped instantly as he swung open the front door plowing through the den, going in the direction of her continued cries for help. Not knowing what to expect, he busted through the door to Birdies room to find Birdie laid out on the floor with Megan kneeling over her. His mouth fell open and he dropped to his knees, fear in his tone. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know? I came in here and she was like this!” Megan forced out past the sobs. Her trembling hands hovered over Birdie’s still body. “Is she breathing, Drew? Oh God, please tell me she’s still breathing!”

  His gaze swept over Birdie lying limp and pale on her stomach, her mouth slack, her body lifeless. Her gray hair had sprung loose, long tresses of gray in disarray. A large hand slid underneath a shoulder and he carefully rolled her to her back. He swept the hair off her face, his expression softening.

  “Wait! Are you supposed to move her, Drew? What if you’re not supposed to move her?”

  “Fuck! Do I look like I know what I’m doing?” he snapped breathless. “Call 911!”

  Megan did as he instructed and stood to go grab her phone. She was back in a few seconds, pacing, crying. Her fingers fumbled with the numbers on her cell.

  “What is the nature of your emergency?”

  “It’s a medical emergency! We found her…sob… lying on the fl
oor…gasp…face down!” came out in a rush only to be cut short.

  “Please hold,” a woman voice commanded.

  Seriously? They’d put her on hold?

  Drew pressed an ear to Birdie’s parted lips as his fingertips pressed into her throat. He sighed, the sound pitiful, full of hurt. “She’s still breathing and has a heartbeat. What did they say?”

  “They put me on hold!” Her voice trembled. They were both muddling through this blindly, unprepared for something like this. Is anyone ever prepared?

  “Please, give me the number you are calling from in case we get disconnected?” A man said as the call clicked over. His voice was cold, emotionless.

  She rattled off her cell number.

  “What is the location of the emergency?”

  She rattled off the address too.

  “Tell me exactly what happened?”

  “We don’t know! I walked into the bedroom and she was already passed out on the floor!”