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Trina puts her hands over her face and laughs. “You look ridiculous.”
“Dance with me.” I hold out my hand before the next round begins. When she bats it away, I put it behind my head with the other and keep going.
I finish with a flourish, throwing my hands high into the air.
Trina’s laughing so hard, she’s turning red. Tears stream from her eyes. “I never would’ve guessed you knew that song, much less the dance.”
“You kidding?” I drop back into my seat. “We played that on repeat at my junior high dance. My whole class got in on the action.”
She wipes her face and continues chuckling.
I nudge the stack of cards toward her. “A new couch says you won’t do the next one.” I throw down the challenge like a gauntlet she won’t be able to resist.
The spark I’m coming to love lights up her entire face. She snatches the card and flips it over. “Kiss.”
A single word has never caused this much indecision in my life. I want to take back what I said, but a challenge is a challenge.
Trina straightens her shoulders, stands, and walks around to my side of the table.
I remain seated, holding my breath for her to slap me or do anything other than kiss me.
Her gaze roams my face, skimming my lips before coming back to my eyes. She moves to stand over me and cups my face in her hands. Her palms are smooth on my morning stubble. Her breath hitches, and her lips touch mine.
Fireworks explode behind my closed eyes. When did I shut them? I reach out for her, my hands finding her hips as though I’m already programmed to know her. I tug her closer. Even with me sitting and her standing, she barely has to bend to reach me. It gives her control of the kiss, and I find I don’t mind. Not. At. All. Her fingers sweep into my hair and down to the base of my neck. She curls them there, the points of her nails scraping lightly.
Heaven. I’ve found heaven, and it’s right here in her arms. I never want the moment to end. Our kiss last night was passionate and fierce. This one is tender, almost loving. For a nanosecond, I can almost believe she likes me.
She ends the kiss too soon, but we’re both short of breath. My fingers clench of their own accord, like I’m afraid to let her go.
“Guess we’re picking out a new couch today.” She’s absolutely crowing her triumph as she spins away and returns to her seat.
I don’t want to play this game anymore. Without meaning to, she’s toying with my emotions. I’m taking this more seriously than I should, but I can't help it. I’m starting to have very real feelings for my fake wife.
As we finish the challenge, I do my best to maintain a cheerful smile so we don’t lose.
Trina must’ve noticed something is wrong, because once Nicholas frees us, she grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the bedroom.
Those watching will have a certain idea about what’s happening, but I know the truth.
Trina closes the door behind us.
I move to the bed and sink onto the edge. “Plan to yell at me some more?” Good grief, I sound like a wounded pup.
Her feet appear between mine, her painted toes a surprising pop of color. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I try to blow the question off. “Not like you want to know.”
I hear her gasp but keep my eyes firmly locked onto her pink toenails.
She digs her toes into the carpet. “This is hard on both of us, but if we’re going to get through to the end, you need to be honest with me.”
“Honest, right.” I scoff and look up. “You value honesty, Trina?”
She nods emphatically.
“Is that why you wrote an article claiming I took advantage of a drunk girl? Because you know me and you’re so honest?”
Her cheeks turn red and she crosses her arms tight. “I know what I saw.”
