The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Strip poker."
I froze, the bottle halfway to the overturned crate I'd been planning to use as a table. "What?"
"You heard me." He was leaning against the doorframe now, arms crossed, looking far too smug. "Strip poker. Makes it more interesting."
"That's ridiculous,” I stopped, because calling it a bad idea would be stating the obvious. "We're not teenagers."
"No. We're two adults stuck in a barn during a storm with nothing else to do. And I'm bored."
"You want to play strip poker because you're bored."
"I want to play strip poker because watching you try to keep a poker face while you're thinking about our kiss will be the most entertainment I've had all week."
I stared at him, my heart hammering. This was a terrible idea. This was reckless and stupid and exactly the kind of thing that would complicate everything we'd been trying to keep simple.
"Fine," I heard myself say.
Wyatt's eyebrows rose. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I set the bottle down with more force than necessary. "But we're drinking too. If I'm doing this, I'm doing it with whiskey."
His grin was slow and devastating. "Deal."
“Are you ready to lay them down?” Wyatt asked, that damn smirk on his face had me shifting in my seat. But I wasn’t going to let him know that he had any effect on me.
I glanced at my cards. At least I had enough clothes on if he was going to beat me this round.
I set my hand face up on the table. “Pair of tens.”
He let out a low whistle through his teeth. “And to think, your poker face made me think you had me for a minute there.
He set his hand down, a pair of Jacks.
“What are you taking off first?” he asked, leaning back as he picked up our cards, shuffling them between his hands.
“You’re lucky my feet have been killing me all day,” I grumbled, kicking off my boots.
He didn’t say anything as he dealt out the cards.
Another weak deal, and there was no way I could bluff.
Especially after losing another three hands and taking off my jacket, socks, and hat.
“I think you’re cheating,” I grumbled, picking up the latest cards he dealt.
“I’d never cheat. Besides, if I wanted you naked, I don’t think it would take a game of cards to do it.”
I scoffed, waiting for his smirk or a laugh, but his eyes were heated as he looked at me across the table.
“Why are you so eager to get me naked when we hate each other?”
He let out a small breath through his nose as he shook his head. “There’s a thin line between love and hate, baby.”
Twenty minutes later, I was down to my jeans, bra, and one sock, and I was definitely feeling the whiskey.
Wyatt had lost his shirt and boots, and I was trying veryhard not to stare at his bare chest while he studied his cards with infuriating calm.
"You're bluffing," I said.
