Bad Cruz(36)

Tennessee was indisputably talented at air hockey, I remembered from our adolescent years. In fact, there was only one person she hadn’t beaten in the entire town.

Me.

Even though we were supposed to keep away from one another tonight, I couldn’t turn down competition when one presented itself. So when more and more people gathered and begged to play with Tennessee, I stepped forward, in front of her, from the other side of the air hockey table, and dropped three Benjamins at the center.

“Wanna make it interesting?”

“This, coming from the most boring man on planet Earth.” She pretended to blow on her fingernails, like they were on fire, a sarcastic smile on her face. “What are you offering?”

“Bet I could win this next game with one arm behind my back.”

Everyone around us sucked in a breath.

Tennessee straightened her posture, giving me her all-business look, which I’d been used to from Jerry & Sons. I’d secretly loved it when she waited my booth. Any crumbs of attention from her were welcome.

She arched an eyebrow. “Mr. Weiner, I’m surprised.”

“Why’s that, Mrs. Weiner?”

“I thought I told you to leave me alone tonight.”

“That was before it came to my attention that you were the main event at the arcade.” I made a point of dropping my gaze to her cleavage, letting her know I didn’t only mean her air hockey skills.

She threw me a sex kitten smirk. It killed me that I wanted her and killed me even more that I couldn’t have her, even after I’d been given every advantage to make her mine.

I was the one with the money, the impeccable reputation, and harem of prospective girlfriends. And yet, I couldn’t get more than an eye roll from this woman.

“Honey, I thought it was established you can’t handle me.”

Low whistles emerged from the thickening crowd forming around us. It seemed like half the goddamn cruise ship was watching. I waited for the dread of being caught doing something less than perfect to sour my insides, but it didn’t happen.

I’d never felt more alive than I did in that moment.

“Try me,” I drawled.

“Make that three hundred a grand.” She lurched her chin to the money between us.

“And when you lose?”

“I won’t lose.”

“And if you lose?” I amended. “What do I get?”

“Your pick.”

“I’ll get to pick what you wear for the remainder of the cruise. Take you out shopping and put you in what I want to see you in. I’ll dress you…” I paused strategically, “and undress you as I please.”

The crowd hollered in elation (pun intended, obviously). I was surprised at their responsiveness for a moment until remembering our sham marriage…

Her sharp hazel eyes, the lovely shade of a heart of a tree, flared for a fraction of a moment, before she fixed another sneer on those bright red lips.

“As far as I’m concerned, you can ask me to walk around naked until we touch land again. You’re not winning, so I don’t really care what you want from me.”

“Is that a deal?” I arched an eyebrow.

She gave me a quick nod.

The crowd cheered.

I collected the money between us, stuffing it into my pocket and reached to shake on it. Her hand was cold and clammy. I withdrew from her, hating the sensation her simple handshake had on me.

“Seven rounds or first to score seven points,” I laid down the rules.

“Yeah, I know how to play air hockey, pal.”

She annihilated me the first two rounds, but only because I let her. I wanted to build her confidence, and also to ensure that she thought she had a fair chance. By the third round, I stepped into the game. In our youth, Tennessee and I had always found ourselves competing in air hockey at the local arcade. We were simply the best at it. Rob used to be oblivious to how I looked at his girlfriend while I played with her. Probably because he was busy showing off to the other girls his claw machine talents—that bastard always got the teddy. He had a secret technique he wouldn’t share.

I won the third, fourth, and fifth rounds, and planned to see where the wind blew with the sixth one. Tennessee was good—but I was better, and I also wanted to change her entire wardrobe and bring her back to Fairhope a new, respectable woman and get the brownie points for it.

The perfect Dr. Costello gave Tennessee Turner a makeover and now his sister-in-law’s sibling looks like someone we might let babysit our kids.

“You’ve gotten rusty,” Tennessee commented from across the table, blocking the puck I sent spinning toward her and sliding it back to me with force. She was panting.

“You’ve gotten cocky,” I replied. She wanted to shatter my cool exterior. She was in for a great disappointment.

“Yeah, well, the past few years were just a breeze.” She blew a lock of blonde hair that escaped her hairspray and fell across her eye. “So naturally, I let my guard down.”

“Are you going to complain about your life every time we talk?” I sent the puck careening her way at the speed of light. “Because in that case, I’m not the only boring one here.”

“You should have more empathy for me, you know,” she huffed. “Not all of us have perfect lives.”