Page 76 of Snowed In With the Mountain Man
“Exactly,” she shot back. “Which means my poker face is working.”
He leaned in close with a pleading expression. “But do you have to glare at me like I just kicked your puppy? It’s disconcerting.”
Her lips twitched ever so slightly. “Which might explain why I’m winning.”
“Last I checked we were tied. You’ve won ten hands, and I’ve won ten.”
“Yes, but I’m about to win this hand.” She tilted her head to the side, evil glare firmly in place. “Which makes me the winner.”
He laughed as he fell back in his seat. “I never took you for the trash-talking type.”
Her lips twitched again, and he could have sworn he felt it in his belly.
Maybe it was the small space, or the fact that they’d been alone together for hours, but his whole body felt attuned to hers, their moods and their thoughts oddly in sync.
“All right, then,” he drawled, holding out his cards. “Time to put your jelly beans where your mouth is.”
He laid his cards down, and she did the same.
And they both realized it at once.
He grinned. She scowled.
“I guess your poker face isn’t so helpful after all, now is it?” he teased, pulling the small pile of jelly beans across the table.
She pursed her lips as she reached for the cards and started to shuffle with far more aggression than it warranted.
“You cannot honestly be put out because you lost.” He chuckled out the words, disbelief in his tone.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a game!” He threw his hands up, another laugh slipping out.
This only made her narrow her eyes. “Yeah, well, the point of game is to win it.”
“Oh man, I knew you were competitive.” He paused, waiting until her gaze met his. “But I never realized you were a poor loser.”
She stopped shuffling, her jaw dropping. “I am not.”
He chuckled. “Whatever you say.”
“I just don’t like losing.”
“Uh-huh.”
She tapped the edges of the cards against the table to straighten them. “What’s the point of playing if you’re not going to win?”
“Uh, because it’s fun?” he offered.
“No, losing is not fun.”
He grinned, leaning across the table and covering her hands with his before he even really knew what he was doing.
She stopped shuffling, locked still by his gaze or maybe his touch. He wasn’t sure, but he liked whatever was happening right now.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Aw, come on now, Lia, you can’t say you don’t like—”
“What did you call me?” She tugged her hands from beneath his and went back to shuffling, but her gaze grew wary.
