One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(19)
The room was a treasured space of mine, because it remained the only room in the house that was a true time capsule from my childhood. As far as I was concerned, the matching sofa and two upholstered chairs had the perfect amount of fade in the yellow cotton fabric. On them were two brightly colored pillows Gran had bought when I was in high school; they were the newest items in the room.
A low curio cabinet held porcelain collectibles behind glass doors and supported a handful of family pictures in silver frames on its wooden top. Behind Cade, where he perched our dessert plates on the narrow edges of a square, antique end table, was a built-in bookcase with old classics from decades past. Many were classics from Chaucer and Twain, Granpop’s favorite authors. Other books were tawdry romances both Gran and Mom had read. And I’d read them all, multiple times. They were my connections to the past, pages my loved ones had turned, adventures they’d enjoyed.
“What are you doing?” I watched as Cade picked up one of the pieces on the board in the center of the table.
“I’m admiring these chess pieces; they’re carved semiprecious stones. How old is the set?”
I shrugged, taking a seat opposite him and handing him his coffee mug. “It’s been there since before I was born. Granpop and Gran played together every night. Sometimes Mom would play with one of them. After Granpop died, Gran lost interest. No one has played with it since then.”
He examined them more closely. “These look to be obsidian. You can almost see through the smoky black stone. Your side is jade.”
I arched a brow. “My side?”
Pulling his mug into his lap, he nodded. “Yep. We’re gonna play.”
Shaking my head, I picked up my fork and speared a piece of dark chocolate cake, starting at the back corner where the greatest amount of icing was. “I don’t know how, really. I’ve only played a couple of times in my life. With Mom, when I was just a kid.”
“Well, prepare yourself. We’re playing. Consider it part of my business mentoring. Chess is an invaluable tool to exercise the mind.”
I gave him a skeptical look. He countered with his classic deadpan expression. Considering his suggestion, I picked up the piece that resembled a green castle.
Cade stuck a large bite of cake in his mouth but quickly chewed, pointing a fork at the playing piece I held. “That’s the rook. C’mon, it’ll be fun, and I guarantee it will help you with your business.”
Blowing on the hot coffee, I peered at him over the rim. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips about his level of excitement over ancient stone pieces on a matching chessboard. “Okay. One game.”
“Three.” He leaned back, a smug expression on his face.
“Three? We’ll be here all night.”
Tilting his head, he arched a brow. “Sounds perfect.”
I shook my head, laughing. “I knew you were up to something.”
“Nope. No strings attached. And it won’t take that long. I’m a master at this. You’re a novice. I could easily end each game in a few moves. But this is instructional to start.”
I replaced the rook onto its corner square and considered the depth of his words. All along, in both our growing relationship and his business tutoring, he could have raced light-years ahead with his experience, but he hadn’t. With me, he took his time, using great skill and care.
And if that wasn’t enough to turn a girl on, with the thought of other activities he’d take at an unhurried and detailed pace, he sat in the dim light of my living room, looking dangerous and sexy. A thin, black T-shirt hugged cut biceps and broad shoulders, but even more tantalizing were the cords of muscle chiseled into his forearms. And those powerful arms controlled large hands with long fingers, which now handled delicate pieces on a chessboard.
My throat went dry as I imagined those fingers handling me. I sipped the hot coffee, which didn’t help to cool the fire my wandering thoughts had ignited. An uncomfortable ache grew ever more insistent between my legs the longer I fantasized about the man who seemed larger than life in my living room.
Think about something else, Hannah. Think about anything else.
I ran his most recent words through my mind again. “How will it help me with my business?”
“Chess trains you to think big picture. The player who thinks only of their next move, of a single piece’s cause and effect, is the player who loses. To win at chess, the entire board must be taken into consideration. Because each piece moves differently, and all of them are out to get my king or disable my pieces to protect yours, every move must be looked at from both your angle and my angle.”
“So becoming a good chess player will help me outthink my competition with Sweet Dreams?”
He nodded. “It will also help you think outside the box in business planning by looking at different aspects of various components—like marketing, products, distribution, even buying and pricing—from fresh angles.”
After downing my last bite of cake and seeing only a crumb left on his, I stacked both plates, crossing our forks on the top one, and put them aside on the coffee table by the couch. “Okay, Chess Master. Deal me in.”
“That’s poker. This is chess. Get your lingo straight, woman.”
I laughed. “Okay, run through what each piece does. All I remember is pawns move one or two spaces, rooks move straight, the horse does some L-shaped thing, and this pointy guy goes diagonal.”