He nodded. “It’s your show, lady.”
“It is?” She blew out a breath, biting down on her lush lower lip. “It’s not easy to believe that. I’m totally winging it here.”
“So am I. This is different for me, too.”
She took his resolution card from him and glanced down at it, wrinkling her brow as she read the few words he’d jotted down.
Crap. He wasn’t good with words or spelling. He had dyslexia, which was something he didn’t share with the world. And something he certainly hoped she hadn’t picked up on. He’d brought her list because he wanted to know what she expected from her year.
He should have left his at home.
But there was no point in worrying about that now. He scooped her up in his arms. Taking the stairs two at a time, he paused on the landing. “Which way?”
“Second door on the right,” she said. Nodding, he carried her into her room. This space seemed more like Lindsey—there was a bright floral-patterned comforter and a large stack of pillows at the head of the bed. The walls had been painted a pale blue color that reminded him of the reflection of the snow and sky first thing in the morning. He saw her medals hanging on the wall under a photo of her with the president.
Carter set her on her feet, and she put the cards on her dark-finished, solid-oak dresser as she led the way to her bathroom. She bent to get some towels from the cabinet, and he realized that there was something about Lindsey that would always leave him wanting more. That being here with her now wasn’t doing anything but making him crave her more intensely.
He wondered if he’d ever get his fill of her, but then she turned, held her hand out to him, and he stopped thinking and questioning. At least for now, he was exactly where he needed to be.
IT’S A BAD IDEA. She knew she had to say it as soon as they were done eating the pizza they’d ordered. They weren’t going to be a couple or start dating. She was a mess and he had to know it.
But she liked him. He was fun and he made her feel as though she was a fun person, too. Except that she was also acutely aware that she wasn’t really the woman she acted like around him.
She’d had more sex in the past twenty-four hours than she’d had in the previous ten years; which was both great and confusing. She couldn’t keep the compartments she needed Carter to stay in straight in her mind.
“Stay or hit?” he asked.
They were playing poker...well, blackjack or twenty-one, at her kitchen table. She wore her flannel pajamas and Carter had on just his boxer briefs. It felt intimate and cozy and would be if she’d just let it be. But she couldn’t.
She glanced at her cards, trying to recall the rule that Carter had shared with her for taking cards. She had an eight and a three. She needed twenty-one and had eleven. Seemed pretty safe for a hit.
“Hit.”
He turned a card up in front of her. Ace.
“Damn.”
He laughed. “I’m guessing you want to stay?”
She shook her head. Had she given the game away? She hated to lose, so she needed to pay better attention, but the truth was Carter was a distraction with his naked chest and tattoos sitting across from her. The light from the kitchen shone down on him, his face hidden by the shadows cast on him.
“No,” she said. No guts, no glory had always been her motto. “Hit.”
He gave her another card. It was a seven. A nice, safe little seven card that kept her from going over twenty-one.
“Stay.”
“Think you can beat me?”
He had a face card showing, so chances were he might have a twenty but... What? She’d just said no guts... “You bet I do.”
He took a card and got another face card.
“Ooh, that’s twenty. Did you bust?” she asked.
He flipped up his card to reveal a two. “Why, yes, I did, gorgeous. That means you win.”
“That’s right, I win,” she said, smiling. This was good. Competing against Carter reminded her of all the things that were usually between them.
“Now you have to tell me the one habit you are hoping to break this year,” she said. They’d been playing loser-tells-all for their resolutions.
“Fair enough, but I’m going to ask you about sexual positions. Sure you don’t want to know about them?”
“I don’t have to win a game to get you to tell me about them,” she said. “Now, what habit is it that you want to quit?”
He scratched his chin. “I think I’d like to quit... Wait—does it have to be a vice?”
“Not at all. You get to choose.”
“Well, then, I will quit answering these questions,” he said insolently.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s already your habit. And we both agreed to the terms. You have to answer.” He leaned back in the chair so his expression was visible now. She looked over at him, trying to figure out what was going on behind his handsome face. He was too sexy for his own good. It would have been better if he’d been average looking with that personality of his. He was used to charming anyone—man or woman—into doing whatever he wanted. She was determined to be different.
Hell, that had been her attitude from the beginning. Had she been attracted to him all this time?
“Well, if you must know...” he said. “I’m going to give up pulling all-nighters. I think I’m past the point where I can keep drifting through life.”
She almost laughed, but she knew he was being sincere. He was one of the top athletes in winter sports and he thought he was drifting through life. She kind of got it because that was how she felt now that skiing had been taken from her.
“So what does a serious Carter Shaw look like?” she asked.
“Ah, that, gorgeous, is a second question, and I’m afraid you’ve only earned one,” he said with that half grin of his that she found way too irresistible. “Besides, that’s not on the resolutions list. I might answer it if you win again.”
“So deal,” she said. Now that she was getting the hang of the game and she’d won, she was ready to keep winning. It was a sort of safe way for her to find out more about Carter. Learn all the intimate details about him while keeping her own secrets safe.
“Don’t forget there is a little thing called beginners luck,” he warned as he dealt her two cards.
“I’ve never relied on luck. Just skill and grit. Something that I guess a drifter like you wouldn’t understand.”
“Touché.”
Her cards weren’t so good this time. A five and a nine. Fourteen. It almost felt as if she should stay, but she wanted to win again.
Carter had a three showing.
“Hit me.”
He flipped a card up in front of her. A three. Not what she’d been hoping for, but she smiled as if it was the only thing standing between her and twenty-one and gestured that she’d stay.
“That good, eh?”
She shrugged. “Like I said...no luck needed here.”
It was funny, but she’d forgotten how often she’d had to use her press face with people in the real world to mask what she was really feeling. And now she was doing it playing