“Or,” he says, glancing at me like he’s letting me in on a secret, “this is everything we need for our competition.”
“Competition?” I raise an eyebrow as he slides the final thing out of his bag and sets it on the table—a deck of cards. “Ever play Go Rummy?”
“I only vaguely remember from when I was little. I think I played it with my grandma a few times.” I’m already eyeing the peanut butter chocolates. He clearly knows the way to my heart.
“This,” he catches me staring at the peanut butter cups and slides them in front of me, “is the real currency.” He retrieves the deck of cards, giving them a quick shuffle and then deals them out into two piles. I pick up my cards and rearrange them into matching sets, while he does the same.
He pushes forward a packet of gummy bears like he’s some high roller. “Put up your wager.”
It’s ridiculous and strangely intimidating. I hate to give up my peanut butter cups, so I start with the bags of sour candies I don’t like anyway.
His expression gives nothing away as he lays down his cards with confidence.
I follow his lead, laying down my cards. Before I know it, I’ve lost the round. He snatches my wager and drags it back to his pile. Then he reshuffles the deck.
“So much for beginner’s luck.” I toss a bag of pretzels into the center, as I clutch my peanut butter cups like they are gold plated. “You’re merciless.” I narrow my eyes in what I hope passes for intimidation.
He’s looking entirely too smug. “Merciless?” he repeats. “I prefer the term skilled.” He adds a bag of chips on top of my pretzels and waits for my counter.
“Skilled at robbing me blind,” I counter, with the last snack on my pile—my peanut butter cups.
He leans back in his seat. The move makes his knee brush mine, and the brief contact sends an unhelpful zing right through me. “I’m competitive,” he says. “And possibly a little hungry.”
I try to focus on my cards, but my eyes betray me, flicking to the way his forearm flexes with every card he deals.
I lose again, but in my defense, it was much more of a loss than the first one because I lost my peanut butter cups. “That’s it.” I sigh as I throw down my cards. “I’m out. Clearly, you’ve won.”
He tilts his head, a slow smile playing on his mouth. “You’ve got one thing left you could bet.”
I arch a brow as I scan the plane tray for a wrapper or something I’ve skipped over. There’s nothing on my side, as everything is piled high on his. “What do I have left?”
“How about a kiss?”
I can’t tell if he’s joking, but my pulse spikes from the way he’s holding my gaze. “That’s brave.”
“Only if you want,” he says lightly, but there’s something in his voice that feels like a dare.
Unable to help myself, I glance at his candy stash like it might offer me guidance. My peanut butter cups are on the top of the pile, taunting me. What I wouldn’t do to win those back… “Okay,” I finally say, “If I win, I get everything back.”
“If I win,” he cuts in, “I get a kiss.” He dramatically shuffles the cards. “The next hand, fate decides.” He deals the deck into two piles, and we take turns laying down the cards.
Remaining quiet, we share long eye locks every time one of us takes a turn, until fate decides to have a sense of humor, and Iwin. With a mock-evil chuckle, I reach across the tray and scoop every last snack into my arms, and I add theatrics to my giggle, declaring, “I won it all!”
He playfully groans, dropping his head back against the seat. “You cheated.”
“Did not. I won fair and square.” I take a moment to restack my peanut butter cups on top, and then in a quick change of thought, I lean across the armrest anyway. His breath stills as I press a quick kiss to his cheek. I smile as the corner of his mouth curves up before I’ve even pulled away.
“Thank you”—my voice is softer than I meant it to be—“for planning this trip.”
His eyes hold mine with so much power, I forget we’re soaring through the sky at thirty thousand feet.
It’s just him and me. We play several more rounds of cards, taking turns winning and losing, and our snacks go back and forth. Before I know it, the captain’s voice crackles overhead, “We’ll be landing in about ten minutes.”
“Landing?” I blink as I cut my gaze out the window. “Already?”
Bill promptly gathers the cards, packing them into the cardboard box. “Time flies when you’re getting your butt kicked.”
“Oh please, I was letting you think you could win.”
