“No idea. I just like the intensity of the phrase.”
“I was going to suggest we bet pennies, but that doesn’t seem nearly high stakes enough.”
She tapped her pencil on the paper in thought. “Let’s begin with pennies. There’s no reason the high stakes game has to be today.”
“That’s true.” Mack’s voice rumbled out like a caress.
A flush crept up Winnie’s neck. Had she just implied that there would be more games in the future? And hadhejust accepted the offer? Her stomach turned over. It was too much, too fast, but neither could she retract the statement without making things worse. The best course of action was to pretend it hadn’t happened.
“My coins are in the bedroom,” she said over the lump in her throat. “I’ll be right back.”
By the time she had returned, Mack had gathered a small pile of pennies on the side table between their chairs. She regained her seat and folded her hands in her lap.
“Go on then. Teach me.”
“As you wish.” He launched into the basics of poker, and she focused intently on the instructions, leaving no room for other thoughts.
“I think I’ve got the gist of it. Shall we begin?”
He dealt the cards and gave her a moment to examine them. “Eager to take me for everything I’ve got?”
She plunked a coin on the table. “I bet one penny.”
“I see you, and raise you another penny.”
She frowned at her cards. “I call. What do you have?”
“You have to show me first, Bobcat.”
“Oh, right.” She laid her cards down and beamed. “I have two pairs.”
His lips twitched. “A pair of twos and a pair of threes. Impressive.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Is it not?”
“It is not.” He laid his own cards down. “Three of a kind. I win.”
She harrumphed, but gamely picked up the cards and dealt a second round. She lost again, a flush to a three of a kind. The third round was much the same.
“Blast,” she said crankily. He wasn’t eventryingto hide his smirk. “Not again.”
“Are you glad we are only betting pennies?”
She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Maybe that’s why I haven’t won yet. I need more incentive to really put my mind to it.”
He chuckled. “You’re well on your way to becoming a gambler, and a poor one at that.”
She waved her hand in the air. “Isn’t all life a gamble?”
“How philosophical of you. What shall we play for?”
“A truth.” The blurted answer took her by surprise, but it seemed a fairly innocent wager. She’d heard partygoers engage in the same over a game of whist, and the questions had all been above-board. She could handle that, and if she were sly, she’d add a few pieces to the Mack puzzle.
“I accept the wager.” Mack dealt the cards. A moment later, he added, “And I win.”
“Billy the Kid’s toenails.” When Mack threw his head back and guffawed, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, what’s your question?”
He steepled his hands beneath his chin. “Why did you marry your husband?”
