Poker Face Page 9

  “I figured you’d be interested Christopher. Glad I could help. Golf next week, don’t forget.”

  How much of an ass would he make of himself if he took a swing at his own father?

  Drew expected Megan to follow the guy out on the front porch, but she didn’t, stopping at the threshold instead.

  ‘You don’t even own the ranch Filly. You’re the butt end of a cruel joke’ it would all be over if he could make his mouth say the words. His conscience would be clear. His life would go back to the way it was before the stupid bet. He’d continue to save his money, and someday he’d make an offer Stratford couldn’t refuse. What did he have to lose if he dropped the mega bomb, right here, right now?

  The guy paused and lowered his voice his smoldering gaze never leaving Megan. “I’d like it if you’d join me for dinner tonight, uh… to discuss the ranch.”

  The idiot was basically undressing her with his eyes, right there in front of everyone. What the hell would he do if he ever got her alone? Drew’s narrowed gaze slid to his father in question. What the hell was he up to? What game was he playing?

  Megan glanced briefly back at Drew and his father, while they all waited for her reply. The guy reached up and loosened the knot in his gray tie obviously having difficulty breathing.

  Strangely, Drew felt the same suffocating feeling. Good Lord Filly, answer the man!

  “I guess… dinner would be a good idea, since we still have some things to settle before our attorneys take a look at the papers.”

  A corner of the guy's mouth quirked up with relief, his eyes bright with hope. You idiot, she’s only agreed to dinner not marriage.

  “6:00?” the guy asked.

  Megan nodded, and closed the door as the guy strolled towards his red convertible.

  “Breakfast is ready,” Tink shouted causing Drew to almost jump out of his own skin. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he so jumpy? So she had a date. He watched with what he could only assume was the same dopey-eyed expression as she passed him and his father with a huge smile on her face. Hell, honestly, she looked too giddy about her new dinner date for his comfort. Did she fall for every guy that showed a slight interest? Suddenly, Drew was no longer hungry; in fact, his gut felt like he’d swallowed a swarm of angry bees and he wondered if he was coming down with Birdie’s bug.

  “Sometimes all a stubborn man needs is a nudge in the right direction” His father winked.

  So that’s what this was, a nudge in the direction his father wanted him to go in by making him jealous. Obviously the man didn’t know his own son’s restraint.

  *****

  Forks clinked against ceramic plates. Other than that everyone ate in silence, a complete one eighty from all their pervious meals where conversation, laughter and stories flowed freely. The quiet could be contributed to Tink and Griffin’s absence, but then again Griffin never talked. It was still odd without him there.

  One was left to wonder if Tink’s disappearance act right before everyone sat down to eat was due to the company at the table.

  Megan took a bite of her scrambled eggs. She couldn’t help occasionally glancing across the table at Drew and his father, side by side the resemblance between father and son was scary, both had dark handsome features and strong jaw lines, the same brown eyes that seemed to swallow the light, thin builds, that’s where the similarities ended. Mackenzie sat back comfortably in his chair as if he was in no hurry to go anywhere, while Drew leaned forward, anxious and stiff pushing his food around on his plate not eating it.

  She remembered the way Drew had joked with Birdie and the others before, the way he’d tossed pieces of biscuit up catching the pieces in his mouth, his deep chuckle that had irritated her; something had changed in his demeanor. His playfulness was gone. The only other time she could recall seeing him so sad was the first time she’d met him and told him the ranch was up for sale.

  She understood now why the ranch meant so much to him. The people there were the closest thing to family he’d ever had, and she threatened to take that away. No wonder he hated her. She felt a slight tug on her heart realizing they both actually longed for the same thing.

  Normal.

  “Jonathan, you’re welcome to stay a few days,” Birdie offered increasing the tension at the table by her question.

  All eyes went to Drew. “I’m sure Dad needs to get back to the office.”

  Mackenzie chuckled stretching out his arms, one landing casually across the back of his son’s chair. It was placed there to crowd him, an annoying presence, and Megan watched as Drew fell for it seeming even more uncomfortable than before.

  “I get the impression my son’s not happy with me being here. Maybe I should take a few days off… some bonding time might be what the two of us need.” Mackenzie’s face puckered as if he’d bitten into a sour lemon, “think you all have room for one more though? Seems my son has already been reduced to the couch. What’s left? Not sure I’ll find the tub too comfortable.”

  “I haven’t been reduced to anything,” Drew snapped.

  “I’m just stating the obvious. Am I wrong? I don’t think I’ve ever been forced out of my own room by a woman. I’d tell her… sleep in my bed or find somewhere else to sleep.” His annoying laughter filled the kitchen causing several mouths to gape open.

  “I’m sure you would,” Megan mumbled with an eye roll.

  “Emma can share a room with me, and you can use hers,” Birdie spoke up coming to the rescue. She looked at Emma for confirmation and was greeted with a quick nod of approval, but the young girl's expression said she wasn’t too pleased with Mackenzie sleeping in her room. Megan suspected they all would give up their bedroom if Drew wouldn’t have to suffer through anymore insulting comments meant to make him feel like less of a man. Birdie smiled weakly, “See, problem solved. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

  “Thank you for the kind hospitality. One night will be enough. So Megan…. you have a hot date tonight?”

  “It’s not a date. It’s business.”

  “Yeah, whatever you say sweetheart. How about we make a deal? If you don’t come home tonight,” he winked, “I’ll crash in your bed, save everyone the trouble from having to do the whole bed shuffle thing when it’s not necessary.”

  Drew watched her over the glass pressed to his lips. Coward. Speak up. Where was the funny guy with the quick comebacks? She was certain he had it in him. She’d heard him yell at his father on the phone. Why was he just sitting there taking it?

  “How about you just go back home, nobody wants you here,” she supplied across the table.

  Orange juice went down the wrong way, Drew choked, going into a coughing fit. Mackenzie’s narrowed gaze stayed on her. Oh, he really did not like her. Where did all that animosity come from?

  “Now, now, no need to be rude hot-pants. You definitely got your mother's temper, didn’t you?”

  “Are you insinuating you know her?” Her and Drew’s gazes met and held. She saw sympathy there instead of the mocking expression he usually wore around her. Did he know? About her mother and his father? Oh no, this was getting worse by the minute.

  “I guess you could say your mother and I were good friends.”

  Why did he emphasize the word good? She couldn’t see anyone being his “friend”. Good or otherwise. Was that his way of saying he’d slept with her mother? Her trembling hand went to her forehead. Please say it wasn’t so. No. Her mother had only been in love with two men in her lifetime, Megan’s father and Stratford. But sometimes sex had nothing to do with love and she knew that.

  “What’s with the long face pumpkin?” Mackenzie inquired.

  “I’m having trouble believing my mother would go anywhere near you.”

  “I assure you… everyone has skeletons in their closet. Isn’t that right son?”

  Again, Drew shifted uncomfortably seated next to his father. “Do you always have to start an argument?”

  Mackenzie’s gaze narr
owed on his son. “No argument here, would you not agree no one is a saint? Except for maybe Birdie….breakfast was delicious ma’am. Please let me help you clear the table.” He stood, and stretched for the platter of scrambled eggs and bacon sitting in the center of the table.

  Thank God breakfast was over. Megan doubted she could take the man another second without exploding into a full blown fit of rage. How Drew managed to live with his condescending father and survive was a true miracle. Okay, Drew had a few issues from his weird upbringing with an even weirder father, a new issue had been added to the list, fear of standing up to the man, but she was starting to see all his issue’s paled in comparison to the cruel man who most likely planted doubts of self-worth in his own son’s head on a regular basis.

  It was those thoughts that had her reaching across the table…

  *****

  “Here, I’ll take that for you,” Megan said her fingers grasping the edge of his plate. Her delicate wrist was turned up and he felt the strong urge to plant his warm lips on that beautiful wrist just to see her eyes go wide with shock.

  The rest of the day was pretty much the same, his father insulting the house and all the people in it. Everything Drew had done the entire day was wrong. He had failed at the one thing his father put stock in—a man’s ability to control a woman. Come nightfall, Drew had never been so pleased to see the couch, alone, the way he wanted it.

  He was exhausted.

  With a frustrated sigh he stripped down to his boxers and slid under the blanket left out for him. Lying on his back he hooked an arm behind his head, the other relaxed on his stomach as he closed his eyes. The grandfather clock in the corner of room clicked off minutes, minutes he was unable to sleep: tick, tick, tick, tick… his eyes flew open.

  Shit, all he could think about was Megan and how she’d looked that morning when she’d practically told his father to get lost. Her nostrils had flared, her full lips compressed in a straight line, and somehow she’d managed to still look amazingly sexy as hell. He loved that about her, the way her temper spiked whenever she was passionate about something. Just thinking about her gave him an instant hard on. It was torture, being in the same house with her day after day. He’d never jacked off so much in his life: in the shower, in his truck, hell he’d even jacked off in the barn, wherever he could steal a few moments alone. His sex drive, since Megan came out to the ranch was worse than it had been when he was a teenager. It’s as if he was addicted to touching his damn self like some damn pervert on a park bench.

  Knowing he’d never be able to sleep until he’d had some kind of release, Drew moved the hand on his belly further down, released his erection from his boxers, his long fingers circling his throbbing length. Damn. It felt good. He sucked in a breath, and relaxed his legs, bending one at the knee. He worked his hand up and down, using the beads of moisture gathering on the tip of his penis as lubricant. He knew getting off this way only lessened his need, it didn’t make it go away completely. He was afraid there was only one way to feel fully satisfied, to be buried deep in a woman, and not just any woman, Megan.

  The clock continued its agonizing clicking: tick, tick, tick… while he stroked, slow at first, then faster. Soon, blocking out all distractions, he closed his eyes, seconds away from having an orgasm….

  His jaw flexed as he heard the creak of footsteps in the hall. He immediately tucked his erection back inside his boxers, hooked the guilty hand behind his head with the other one. What now? His father wanted to get in one last jab? No. His father wouldn’t bother with being quiet. Drew felt a presence and lifted his head to find Megan watching him.

  “I’m warning you, Filly, I’m not in the mood to play.” Shit. How much had she seen?

  “I—I ugh…”

  “Just spit it out so I can get to sleep.” Or back to doing more productive things. He was still hard.

  Her cheeks turned red as she tugged the pillow out from under his head, and pulled the blanket off his nearly naked body, exposing flesh and a pair of white boxers, filled out in the front. He shivered. “Shit… not this game again. I told you, I’m not in a good mood. All I want is to close my eyes, forget everything and everybody!” He gritted his teeth.

  “Everybody?” Her eyes wandered to the front of his boxer. He couldn’t resist smiling. If she only knew what he’d been doing right before she’d walked in, even worse, to a mental picture of her naked.

  She tucked the pillow and blanket under her arms and motioned for him to follow.

  Drew didn’t move. He was too stunned. She’d been acting weird all day. Weird as in nice, a word not usually used to describe her, at least not a word he used often. Now Bitch, Bitch had been a word on the tip of his tongue whenever she was around, but not “nice”. Well, he had no covers or pillow, and although he was tired he doubted he would be very comfortable curled up in a ball all night, so after his hard on subsided, he did as he was told.

  Megan tossed his pillow up on the bed and shook out the blanket adding it to the others across the foot of the bed. It was a chilly night, a cold front and rain settling in. Drew stood there with his arms crossed over his chest trembling in his boxers as he watched her slide out of her jeans and crawl under the covers. Seeing her in just a T-shirt and underwear gave him something new to fantasize about.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked, because he had to know before he gave in.

  “I can’t stand hearing your father make his little snide comments. Hopefully he’ll wake up in the morning to find you no longer on the couch, and back off.”

  Drew couldn’t keep from smiling. “Megan, it’s not that simple. Nothing with my father ever is.”

  “I thought you were tired. Get in bed… your teeth are starting to chatter.”

  He didn’t have to be told twice. The sheets were cool. He couldn’t stop shaking. It took him several moments to warm a spot; he inched over next to Megan searching for some body heat. She lay on her side turned toward him, instead of away from him like he was used to. Their faces were close enough he could feel her hot breath on his skin. Her eyes were shut, her hands snuggled up to her chin as if she’d already drifted off to sleep, but he knew she was pretending, he could tell by her breathing, which seemed to increase the closer he got. The moon was kind enough to light her features so he could admire them at his leisure.

  She really was beautiful without makeup. Why anyone would cover up skin so flawless made no sense. He noticed the barely-there mole on her right cheek, a beauty mark his mother had explained when he was younger and asked why some people had moles and others did not. Her mouth parted as she drew an uneven breath and his attention went immediately to her lips which were full, pink and soft, kissable. He’d fantasized about those lips ever since their first kiss. If he kept up with these thoughts his father would get exactly what he wanted.

  A corner of that gorgeous mouth quivered from her attempt to not smile.

  “I know you’re awake, Filly. You’re a horrible faker.”

  “Are you going to stare at me all night?” Her eyes remained closed.

  “Maybe… does it bother you?”

  Her eyes opened then and she studied his face with the same interest. “No. Why didn’t you stand up to your father this morning?”

  His jaw tensed at her question and for the first time since he’d gotten into the bed with her he looked away. “I was afraid of what he might say in front of you if I pushed him.”

  She used a slender finger to turn his face towards her. “I don’t take anything that man says too seriously. Why do you try so hard to be like him?”

  “It’s easier.” He simply said, then changed the subject, because really, his father was the last person he wanted to discuss. “How did your date go?”

  “I couldn’t wait to get home… to talk to you. I get it, why the ranch means so much to you, and why you don’t want me to sell it to just anybody,” she sighed as if she had waited all day to say what she was about to say, “I’m giving the ranch
to Tink.’

  The corners of his mouth edged up a fraction.

  Drew wanted to have sex with this woman; raw passionate sex that lasted all night long, over and over until he’d had his fill, which he feared would be never. No, that wasn’t exactly true, he wanted to make love to her, kiss and touch her in ways he’d fantasized about every moment since he’d first met her.

  Who his father was, what kind of man he was, and everything else faded.

  “Drew, did you hear me? Tink should have the ranch, do you not agree?”

  Yes. Hell yes! It was the smartest thing he’d ever heard anyone say. The problem was…. Megan didn’t own the ranch. And Drew was still his father’s whore.

  Day Ten

  “I got this! I don’t need your help. Just give me a second.” Megan snapped, one foot in the stirrup, one hand on the saddle horn, the other brushing the flies off Angel’s flank. She blew disobedient hair out of her face and tried hoisting herself up again. “You sure she’s going to go for me riding her? Or is this some attempt to watch me land on my ass.”