Not a Chance(12)

Arden drew herself up, almost imperceptibly. She clearly didn't like playing defense. "Maybe it's a sure thing. Maybe he's certain he'll be able to give her a good return on her investment."

"Or maybe nobody reputable will give him any money, so he's going collecting from people who are vulnerable to his charms."

"Naturally you're inclined to think the worst of him."

"Naturally."

Arden pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. "I think you're an asshole," she said softly.

"I'm an honest asshole," he said, with no humor in his tone.

She abruptly stood and left the room.





CHAPTER EIGHT



Arden was still sore about the way he'd abused the noble name of Nick Wheeler. Travis couldn't blame her. He shouldn't have done it. But he hated the bastard. Until the snowstorm, he'd never given a second's thought to Nick's marrying Arden. He didn't know her. Didn't care. At most he figured they'd be perfect for each other. But now he knew better. She belonged with Travis.

She was laying on the mattress on her stomach reading her third romance novel. Travis glanced over the top edge of the novel he'd been pretending to read and watched her for a few moments. She kicked her feet up and down like a kid. The flannel pajamas swallowed her up and her hair was in tangles hanging down around her face. He smiled.

"You wanna play a game or something?" he asked.

"Nope," she said without looking at him.

"If I apologize for blaspheming your fiancé's great name, then will you play a game with me?"

"Not if you're going to be a smartass about it."

"I'm not, Arden," he said.

She turned, then, and raised her eyebrows at him.

"I can't apologize for not liking him. Especially when he has something I want so much. But I am sorry for talking bad about him to you. Can you forgive me?"

She blushed first and then slowly smiled. "Sure. I forgive you."

He grinned. "Then can we play a game?"

She sat up. "Okay. What do you want to play."

"Risk."

"No. Fucking. Way."

"Aw, come on."

"Listen," Arden said, "I'm not playing that game with you again. Ever. So pick something else."

"Spin the bottle?"

She cocked her head at him raised one eyebrow.

"Poker."

She sat up straight. "I've always wanted to learn."

"Alright. Poker it is. We'll play stud."

Arden closed her book and tossed it on the floor next to the mattress. Travis dug through the game box and pulled out a deck of cards.

"Now," Arden said, "Just to clarify. We're not playing strip poker. Right?"

He grinned at her but didn't answer. He went to the kitchen where he'd found a big bag of m&m's they'd found on the first day there. The only reason they hadn't eaten them already is that the bag was wide open and there were m&m's scattered on the pantry floor. The thought that little, dirty mice might have been digging around in there was enough to turn them off to the risk.

He went back to the living room and sat on the mattress opposite Arden. "We can use these as money. Ante's one m&m." He put a handful next to her and one next to him.

"I don't know what 'ante' means."

He explained and then told her the rules. They started playing and damned if Arden didn't have a good poker face.

"You could go pro with that stone cold expression," he said.

"I was thinking I need some of those sunglasses where you can't see the person's eyes."

"And a ball cap turned backwards. God would that be cute."

She glanced up at him and then rearranged her cards.

"You know, I think you'd make a pretty good redneck," Travis said.

She scoffed. "I am a redneck."

"Are not. You're too refined to be a redneck," he said in a mocking tone.

"Okay. I'm the richest, most refined redneck in redneck city. Put me in New York or Los Angeles...I'm still a redneck."

Travis had never thought about it like that. "I guess in New York, you and I would be equals in terms of stature."

She arched a brow. "I wouldn't go that far."

"Snob."

She laughed, a sparkly, cheerful sound.

"Why did you become a teacher?" he asked.

They laid their cards down and Travis won the hand. "Well, I had to do something. I like little kids. And I had a teacher who inspired me, once. So that's just what I went with. Besides, you don't see too many kids graduate and come back to teach here. It's really hard, actually, to get teachers to come here."

"So how did this one teacher inspire you?" Travis asked as he dealt the next hand.

"It was Mrs. Cheswick. She's old, so maybe you had her."