done, you’re going to be green with envy, wishing you had my SORRY! skills.”
An hour later, we’ve played four games.
I won the first.
He won the second.
And the third.
I won the fourth.
And now we’re halfway through our tie-breaking lightning round.
We’re neck and neck, each of us waiting to get our last piece to our home spots.
This could be anyone’s game, and I’ve never been so vested. I’ve chewed my left thumbnail to the quick and I haven’t so much as taken my eyes off the board in the last fifteen minutes.
Ace flips the card from the top of the deck and gets a reverse four.
“Ha!” I say, pointing my finger in his face as he moves his red pawn four spots back.
He groans, kneading his hands together before popping his knuckles. He licks his lips, the very ones I’ve been dying to kiss all day and have refused to on account of he hasn’t shaved that monstrosity from his face yet.
He even tried earlier, after we returned from the dock. Ace pressed me against the wall by the back door, a sweet homage to the previous night, and cupped my face in his hand. The look in his eyes when I tsk-tsked him was priceless, but I’m hoping my persuasion will pay off in the near future.
I take my turn and pull a ten, which puts me in the safe zone.
“Home sweet home,” I say.
“You still have three spots yet,” he says. “Which means you’ll need a one and a two. Good luck to you.”
Rolling my eyes, I square my shoulders and give him a fierce look despite the fact that I know he’s right. The odds are stacked against me now, especially since he just pulled a twelve and landed himself in his own personal safe zone. He needs a two. That’s it. And then he’ll win our little tournament and all my big talk earlier will have been for nothing.
I flip the next card. A seven. I can’t split it with any other pawns because they’re already home, so I stay put.
Ace flips another card. An eight, rendering his turn pointless.
My next card is a two, and I all but fly off the couch, I’m so happy. He reaches for the deck, but I swat his hand away.
“I get another turn, remember?” I remind him, rubbing my palms together. Closing my eyes, I press my prayered hands against my forehead.
“What are you doing?”
“Saying a prayer to the SORRY! gods,” I say, carefully opening my eyes.
“Pft.” He blows a breath through his lips and rests his elbows on his knees.
Reaching for my hopefully last and final card, I drag my fingertips across the top and flip it over slowly.
It’s a one.
I’ve won.
Victory and happiness settle in my chest as I slide my fourth pawn into the home spot. Wearing a smile I couldn’t wipe off if I tried, I climb into Ace’s lap, straddling him. I’m so happy I could kiss him.
So I do.
Completely disregarding my beard addendum earlier.
“If losing to you means you’ll finally kiss me again, then I’ll take it,” he says, his voice low and hungry as he slips his hands around my waist.
“I wasn’t thinking,” I say. “I still haven’t changed my mind. This is nothing more than a victory kiss.”
My mouth smiles against his.
“How does it feel to kiss a winner?” I tease.
“Feels like something I could get used to.”
A whistling and popping noise trails in from an open window nearby, directing our attention to the fireworks exploding over the lake.
I’d completely forgotten about fireworks this entire weekend. And who could blame me when there were fireworks going off in front of me the whole time?
“Want to watch?” I ask.
Ace bites his lip and hesitates, his hands gripping my hips and refusing to let go. “I’ve watched these fireworks a half dozen times.”
“Yeah,” I say, “but you’ve never watched them with me before.”
I climb off him, grabbing a blanket from nearby and bunching it in my arms. We head out the back door and down to the pier. He takes my hand as we cross the jagged rocks, and he holds onto it until we reach the end of the dock.
Spreading the blanket for us, we sit on the edge, our feet dangling in the warm water. Nearby, I spot my little bottle of organic bug spray. Reaching for it, I spray it all over and then offer it to him. He hesitates at first, and then takes it.
It’s not like it’ll do him a