By the third day of the storm, I was tired of, not to mention sore from, sparring. And utterly bored out of my mind.
After we ate dinner, Enzo was sitting by the fireplace drinking a glass of whiskey. I could feel his eyes tracking me as I went over to the hall closet.
I grabbed the board game from the top shelf, then brought it over to the coffee table and set it down.
He arched a brow. “Is this what we’re doing now?”
“You got something better to do?” I teased.
His eyes flicked toward the storm-warped window. “Not unless you want to go outside and build a snowman.”
I grinned. “Come on, Mr. No-Fun. Let’s play.”
To my surprise, he came over from the recliner and sat down across from me, folding those broad arms over his chest like he wasn’t going to enjoy the game.
But then I saw it—the tiniest flicker of amusement in the corners of his mouth.
Clapping, I let out a tiny squeal of glee. “We need snacks,” I stated as I practically skipped to the kitchen. A few minutes later, I came back with popcorn and chips.
I set up the board between us, then handed Enzo the game cards. His fingers brushed mine. They were warm, rough, solid. I didn’t flinch. Not anymore. I was used to his hands on me.
Just not the way I wanted them to be.
But I wouldn’t make the first move. I wanted Enzo to. I knew he was fighting it just as much as I was.
And I couldn’t wait for him to break.
“Who do you want to be?” I asked.
His eyes ran over the board for a few seconds. “Colonel Mustard.”
I grinned. “Oh, come on. You’re so not a Mustard. You’re more of a Professor Plum.”
He arched a brow. “Because I’m intellectual?”
“Because you overthink everything. I call Miss Scarlet.”
“Of course you do,” he teased, taking a sip from his glass.
Enzo won the dice roll. It took him two rolls to move into the lounge. “I think Miss Scarlet did it. In the lounge. With the revolver.”
I arched a brow. “Already accusing me? Bold move.”
He shrugged. “Got to keep you on your toes.”
“Flattered,” I said, showing him the lounge card. “Wrong guess, though.”
His jaw tightened when he saw the card. “Lucky draw. Still could be you though.”
“My turn.” I rolled and moved my piece into the hall. “I’ll go with Colonel Mustard in the hall with the dagger.”
He gave a faint smirk. “Now that’s just wishful thinking.”
I arched a brow. “Can you prove me wrong?”
He flashed me the dagger card with a cocky grin.
Rolling my eyes, I scoffed. Enzo chuckled as he picked up the dice and rolled.
