Poker Face (5 page)

She wouldn’t?

She couldn’t?

Sadly, he already knew the answer.

Her timing was impeccable.

Had he done something in a past life that warranted this kind of
torture? If so, he was sorry.

“God, please make her go away.” He slid off the couch his sore
knees bumping cold hardwood. He rose to his feet and straightened the jogging
pants hanging low on his waist. He exhaled a breath running a frustrated hand
through his matted hair. Better go ahead and deal with it. Or her. Whichever
the case may be. He followed the noise finding a sight far worse than he
imagined.

“What are you doing?” he frowned walking carefully over all the
torn out debris. He winced as he stepped on a missed nail sticking up from a
split board. Hobbling on one foot he assessed the damage: blood oozed from a
small prick. Not a large amount, just enough to irk him. The woman was insane!

Megan turned, “Working.”

She was wearing protective glasses, a white supper tight T-shirt
with the Pink Panther on it, and a pair of jeans that hung low on her hips.
Drew guessed the shirt and jeans belonged to Emma, the only one in the house
remotely close to Megan’s size.

He’d assumed—or hoped—she would look less attractive without all
the makeup and fancy clothes, but Megan was even more attractive without all
the flare, so attractive that she stole his breath. Her hair was pulled up
revealing an elegant, slender neck. Drew came to realize, in that moment, that
he had a fetish for kissable necks: the tender spot just below a woman’s ear,
the sensitive cord of muscles that ran clear to her collarbone, then there was
her shoulders where a man could latch on sinking his teeth into flesh begging
to be bitten.

He growled low and deep disguising the direction his mind was
taking by shouting, “Why aren’t you still in bed?”

“I woke this morning feeling energetic. Thankfully when I called
Robbie,” she affectionately patted the guy's arm, “he was already awake too.”
Her lips gave way to a smile. Drew knew enough of Megan by now, to know her
smile was an indication something bad was coming, and he braced himself.

“It was your idea really,” she said.

“What was my idea?”

“Moving the toilet to a better place….adding on,” her hands done a
sweep of the room, “Remember? I just took your brilliant idea and ran with it.
And as for everybody sleeping, you’re the only one still in bed.”

“I wasn’t in bed. I was on the couch.”

“Yeah, well, do you know you snore?” She and Robbie exchanged a
snicker. “It’s awful. I tried pinching your nostrils closed a few times, but
the quiet never lasted. You really do need to go see a doctor. I think you may
suffer from sleep apnea. My mother used to snore really bad too. Her doctor
gave her one of those machines that blows air into your nose while you sleep.
Helped her tremendously! I know I’d appreciate it if you done something about
it.”

“Can I talk to you a minute?” He motioned for her to follow. When
she made no movement, he tacked on, “Alone, in the den?”

She sighed pulling off the protective glasses muttering to Robbie.
“Do you mind? I think someone woke up on the wrong side of the couch.”

“Nah,” Robbie smiled.”

“Of course he doesn’t mind! The man was probably waiting for
someone to come rescue him.”

Megan tilted her chin. She wasn’t going to let Drew provoke her
this morning. He could sense her holding back. Her hand went to his shoulder as
shoved him out of the way for her to pass. In the den, he took several deep
breaths raking a hand through his hair. He favored his sore foot. She stood
with her hands firmly planted on her hips. Dust swirled in the sunlight coming
in through the nearby window. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room
clicked off minutes in the brief moments of silence from the sound of the
hammer.

“Well, go ahead. Say what you have to say,” she urged.

He spoke quietly at first, “I’m trying to think of the nicest way
to put this, but there’s no easy way to ay this…” then his temper flared,
“you’re making my life a living hell! You want to put the ranch up for
sale…fine. Put a damn sign up in the front yard….any potential buyers call and
I will personally give them a grand tour. There’s really no need for you to
stay here.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but Paul trusted me with this place
for a reason. I think it’s a test.”

“What… to see how much of his damn money you can waste on your
stupid lil renovations?”

“We’ll get back every cent once the ranch sells. You know what I
was thinking the other day, right before I signed the papers?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“I was thinking how I’ve been given the perfect opportunity to
prove myself. I do have a brain, Drew. I actually consider myself pretty
intelligent. That may make me sound like a conceited bitch to you, but I don’t
care. This place offers six bedrooms….any serious buyer is going to expect at
least two baths. And after enjoying the pleasantries of last night’s meal….I
think a separate dining room wouldn’t hurt. I’m sure if you asked Birdie she’d
agree. Robbie assured me the added square footage will bring at least ten
thousand more an offer.”

He exhaled. Fighting with her was useless, besides he hated the
way it made him feel. It gave him an overwhelming sense to do something, he
just couldn’t figure out what that something was. No, he was well aware, but
refused to admit that what he really wanted to do was shut her the hell up,
even if he had to use his mouth to do it. He said the first rational thought
that popped in his head. “Where are we supposed to go piss in the mean time?”

“I already assumed you done it outside most of the time anyway.”

Day Three

“No way in hell…not in this lifetime! No. No. No.” Drew held his
cell out in front of him shouting as beads of sweat formed across his brows. He
walked in incomplete circles in the front yard, came to an abrupt stop and
shoved a hand through his hair. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You can
never make me have sex with that girl. You lied. I don’t know why I’m shocked.
Stratford has signed the place over to her, and now she’s in charge, hard
telling how much the bitch is going to sell the place for once she’s done
turning it into a damn snooty bed and breakfast… I’ll never be able to afford
it. Thank you for fucking up my life! Somehow, you managed to do it even from
hundreds of miles away! He’d forgotten all about this place until you had to
open your big mouth challenging him to another one of your stupid bets. Why are
you so dead set on taking punches at Stratford?” Only then did Drew put the
phone to his ear. “Not to mention, it’s wrong. Forcing the man to bet against
his own daughter….who does that shit? Even I wouldn’t sink that low. ”

“If you’d calm down and listen a minute. You can buy the ranch
with the money I make off this bet. Think about it… you will own it free and
clear, and Stratford didn’t bet against his
step
daughter,” his father
emphasized
step
as if that somehow made it okay, “he bet against you
screwing her.”

“Dad really? It’s his daughter.”

“Don’t tell me you’re turning into a prude like your mother?”

“Leave her out of this!”

“Okay, I’m waving a white flag here. I don’t see why you’re making
such a big deal out of this. You’re what, twenty-three now? You’ve had plenty
of one night stands. What’s one more? Hell, you can slip her a couple of
hundreds if it eases your conscience.”

“No. Just thinking about her makes me feel like throwing up, why
the hell would I want to sleep with her?” Silence. Drew held his phone out
again to see if the call had dropped. He held the cell high moving it around
for better service. “Dad, you still there?”

“Huh, I was certain Megan took after her mother in the looks
department. But regardless, nobody said you have to keep your eyes open while
you have sex with her. Hell, I bet you haven’t been attracted to half the girls
you’ve slept with, so stop whining. Get drunk if it’ll help. ”

“I didn’t say she’s ugly. She’s… I don’t know… she just irritates
the hell out of me, and if your plan all along was to give me the money from
this bet to buy the ranch… what are you getting out of this?”

“Irritates you? I didn’t ask you to marry her, son.”

“Have you not heard a single thing I’ve said….it’s never going to
work. Megan already owns the ranch. Even
if
I came up with the money, I
bet she’d refuse my offer just to piss me off. The last thing she wants is for
me to own this ranch.”

“What the hell did you do to offend her?”

“I don’t know… breathe,” Drew mumbled. “You didn’t answer the
question… what are you getting out of this?”

His father went on, either not hearing his son, or avoiding the
question. “This was supposed to be an easy win, sleight of hand. Stratford has
no idea what a Mackenzie can do once he sets his mind to it….”

“… or cheats,” Drew stuck in.

“Seems I have a worthy opponent. Stratford told his stepdaughter
he signed the ranch over to her to get her on the damn plane. It’s all a lie. I
got to give it to the man; he fights dirty. Get in the game son. 400,000
dollars is on the line. Or have you changed your mind about wanting to buy the
ranch?”

This was beyond sick. Something about the whole setup made Drew’s
skin crawl, but what other choice did he have? Sooner or later, Stratford was
going to sell the ranch for real, and when he did….well, where would they all
go? Worst case scenario, Megan sold the ranch—he bought it with the money his
dad gave him from winning the bet—giving him the right to kick her out on her
ass as soon as this was all over. No, that actually sounded pretty damn good.

“Consider it taking one for the team.
Unless
…you’re
thinking she might not give in to your charm? Is that why you’re in such an
uproar? You’ve lost your confidence with this one? I assumed the apple doesn’t
fall too far from the tree, or does it?” For the first time ever, Jonathan
Mackenzie sounded worried.

Drew’s entire life he had waited for his father to say
“I am
proud of you.”
Couldn’t he be a normal father for once? Was that too much
to ask?

“Come on Son, make me proud.”

“You really do need to go see a shrink,” Drew muttered hitting the
end call button and chucking his cell halfway across the yard. Shit. His
relationship with his father had reached an all-time low.

*****

Megan watched the sexy man before her: the way the muscles in his
back rippled underneath his tight shirt as he worked. Her bottomed leaned
against one of his sawbucks. She strangely felt insecure and exposed without
her makeup. Her voice came out as small as a mouse, “You’re awfully good, you
know?”

Holding the pencil he used to mark measurements in-between his
teeth he pulled down on the handle of the chop saw. Her eyes blinked and ears
rang from the overwhelming high-pitched noise as the saw blade ripped through
another piece of wood. Sawdust spit out behind Robbie. He grabbed at his
pencil, pulled out his tape measurer, and made another mark. Repeated the process.

She wasn’t even sure he’d heard her. This time she came close to
shouting, “I said… you’re good at remodeling! Did you go to school for it?”

He acknowledged her with a pleasant smile, and a wink. 

Well, this was really quite boring. She drummed her fingers. What
was it going to take to show him she was ready to move things along in a more
satisfying direction? More satisfying for the both of them. She smoothed the
wrinkles of her Ghostbuster graphic T-shirt that had a scoop neck and hung off
one shoulder. Didn’t Emma own anything sexy? The cabby hadn’t answered any of
the hundreds of messages she’d left on his answering machine. She suspected he
never would.

Robbie came toward her, all sweaty and hot. He stopped, leaned,
his breath light as a feather on her cheek. “I just need…”