Chapter Thirty-One

My mother once told me that if I wanted a man to fall in love with me, the first time I played a game with him, any type of game, I had to let him win. I could play normally after that, but the first time mattered most. Men have very fragile egos, she said. And like any dog, if you stroke them right, they'll roll over for you. But if you put their fur on edge, they'll bite you and run away. She also said, if, at all possible, I should avoid games with men altogether until they declared their love. Unless, that is, we were on the same side, playing against others. If you can get into a situation where you have to work together toward a goal, a man's inner animal will see you as an ally instead of a threat, and they'll bond with you. Even a damaged guy, who isn't open to bonding in a more gentle way will bond through a shared goal or enemy.

Hold on. Shit. That explains a lot, doesn't it? We were already bonding because we had become allies. Mom was right. But then, she always is. The question was; did I still have to let Darius win the first game if we'd already started to bond? Darius didn't just have an inner animal—he had an inner animal who could become an outer animal. And it happened to be a canine. It seemed as if Mom's advice was tailor-made for my boys. Especially Darius. Was he damaged? Maybe. Beyond bonding through intimacy? I didn't think so. Still, it would be safest to let him win the first game. You know, if I wanted him to love me.

But I didn't want to make it easy on Darius. And playing these mind games that involved real games felt as if I was doing the pursuing when it should be him. Let him worry about whether I was falling for him or not. I wanted to know that I was the one, no matter what happened. Even if his hound saw me as a threat.

Time to play, indeed. I didn't hold back. If he won, it would be because he was better than me. Fair and square. As it should be.

Halfway into the game, Darius said, “You're good.” To his credit, he didn't sound surprised. Nor did he look upset when I took his bishop.

“I used to play with my dad,” I said.

His head jerked up. “Tell me about him. What's he like?”

“My dad?” I lifted my brows. “He's Creole. Half French and half African-American. Grew up in Louisiana.”

“Naw'lins?” Darius grinned.

“No. A little town called Eunice. It's closer to Baton Rouge than New Orleans. It's cute. It has history. A lot of Art Deco buildings.”

“Is that where you grew up?”

“No. Dad moved to Baton Rouge when he grew up. Then he went exploring around the world. He met my mom in Greece, married her, and brought her home.”

“So, you were raised in Baton Rouge?”

“Yes, Sur,” I drawled. “Geaux Tigers!”

“Go Tigers?”

“Geaux,” I drawled it out. “That's how we say it. Tigers as in the LSU team. Football is a way of life in Baton Rouge and the only team you root for is the Tigers. Unless you want to be mobbed.”

“Ah.” He grinned. “Is it wrong that I find you incredibly sexy right now?”

“Because I know football?”

“No, because of that slow drawl. Say something else.” Darius grinned wickedly, and it made something low in me clench. “Please.”

I snorted a laugh. “Well, now, dawhlin, we talk more southern in Baton Rouge than Cajun like they do in Naw'lins. It's a very special drawl. Slow. Sweet. And unique.” I dropped the accent to say, “But I left that girl in the South when I moved to the Pacific Northwest.”

“Do you miss home?” He moved a piece while I wasn't looking, then nodded that it was my turn.

I smiled to myself. So, he thought he could distract me? My dad used to try the same trick, but he never managed it either. I simply regrouped and reevaluated.

“No,” I said and meant it. “I made a new home that's all my own here. A life that's totally me. I visit my parents sometimes, and there's nothing like my mom's cooking—a combination of Greek and Southern cuisine—but I like a bit more snow and less swamp. Just a touch of snow, mind you. Rain is nice too.”

He laughed. “I feel the same. I've been to Baton Rouge. It's a fun town, but only to visit. The heat's a killer.”

“Yeah, and we've been getting hit hard here these last few summers. It's even worse down there.”

“I don't mind the gators though,” Darius said.

“They're okay as long as they stay in their swamps, but they can get adventurous. And frisky.”

“No shit. Sounds like someone I know.”

I met his stare. “You can be very charming, Darius.”

“Call me Dare.”

“No,” I said, but I grinned as I said it. I also set down my queen with a final click. “Checkmate.”

Darius blinked, then looked down. “Holy shit.” Then he laughed. “Holy shit, you totally slipped that past me.”

I leaned back and frowned at him. Instead of being threatened, he was enjoying my win. As if we were already a team and my win was his. Guess we had been bonding.

“Well done. Good game.” Darius held out his hand to me.

I shook it. “Another?”

“Sure. Maybe this time you can let me win.” He winked at me.

I smirked. “Never.”

Darius grinned wider. “Good. I'd be disappointed if you did.”