Recap:
"It's no trouble." He said, following with an equally tall stack. He began loading the dishwasher with silverware, as he caught a glimpse of Reba, staring into the living room. She watched as the family, immediate and new, played a board game of some sort, laughing and cheering as they did so.
He halted his transfer of dinnerware as he looked into the deep stare her eyes occupied. He had seen that look more than once in the many years he had known her. He watched as she scratched her pristine, manicured nails against the smooth brown leather belt she wore.
Suddenly, before his brain could filter the words coming out of his mouth, he blurted "Reba was this engagement planned?"
Reba was tore out of her thoughts. "What?" She asked with harsh confusion evident in her tone.
"I'm sorry." Brock continued to load dishes in the dishwasher. "Nothing." he shook his head, knowing he shouldn't have said anything.
"No." Reba set a plate on the counter and turned to Brock. "What did you say?"
"Look, Reba. I am sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."
"Just answer the question, Brock."
"I asked if you engagement with Craig was planned."
Reba raised her eyebrow, loosening her grip on the dish towel she held. "What?" She held a sense of relief in her voice. "Why is that such a taboo question?" she didn't understand why Brock had made such a huge deal out of a simple question. For once, their minds might not have been on the same wave lengths.
"It was a rude question to ask, and I'm sorry." He continued to load the dishwasher, hoping the subject would be dropped before he was forced to explain himself.
She shrugged hi m off, whether he was truly looking for an answer or not, she was going to give him one. "Are engagements ever really planned? Craig and I never really discussed marriage, but to be fair, neither did we."
"I guess you are right." Reba could see he wanted to be satisfied with her answer, but something in her heart told her that her answer was not what he had in mind.
"That isn't what you meant is it?"
Brock sighed heavily, placing another plate in the dishwasher before locking his gaze with Reba's. "No, it isn't."
Reba let out a chuckle when her next statement flowed out of her mouth. "Well, if you were getting at a shotgun wedding, then no. This is not it. I am not pregnant."
Brock arched his eyebrow, silently asking 'Are you sure about that one?' "Brock, I'm not."
"Alright, alright." He held up his hands, hoping to ward off a verbal attack by his ex wife. "All I'm saying is, I saw you pregnant three times..."
She rolled her eyes. "You can't remember to tell Jake to change his shirt for three days, but you can remember what I looked like while I was pregnant?" He shook his head proudly and boyishly.
"There are some things I hope to never forget." He said with a more serious tone. Reba gently closed the dishwasher, keeping her gaze on his.
"Come on." She tilted her head toward the living room. "Why don't we focus on a lighter subject?" The two joined the rest of the family for a round of apples to apples beforeCheyenneand Van decided it was time to get home and getElizabethto bed.
"But mommy!" The little girl protested. "I'm not even tired!"
"She'll be out before we get off your road." Van assured the rest of the family while putting her coat on.
"It was so nice to meet you!" Craig's mother gaveCheyenneand Van a hug before secretly slipping a candy cane intoElizabeth's pocket.
As the door shut with the couple outside, the house fell unusually quiet. "Who newCheyenneand Van made so much noise." Reba quipped filling the air.
"Kyra could vouch for that." Reba sent Jake a death glare before everyone broke out into a laughter.
Brock was the next one to speak up. "Now that the little one is gone, why don't we play some real games?" He pulled a deck of cards off the bookshelf. "Anyone up for some poker?"
Reba cleared her throat. "You seem to have forgotten that our 12 year old son is still here."
"For your information, I am a beast at poker."
Reba stared at her son with a shell shocked look on her face. "What? Where did you learn how to play poker?"
Before Jake could answer, Brock quickly interrupted. "That's not important, why don't we just let him play."
"Dad taught me how to play."
"Really? You're dad taught you how to play?" Brock knew if he didn't speak up soon he would be arguing with Reba in the middle of the living room.
"You know how your thoughts will consume you during a separation if you don't do something about them."
She shrugged her shoulders, feeling his empathy. "I guess. Who's up for some poker?"
Everyone gathered around the coffee table as Brock dealt the cards.
Nearly thirty minutes later everyone threw their cards on to the table for a third time. "Jake," Reba tossed her cards into the middle of the table as well. "It is time for you to go to bed!"
"What? Why?"
"Because," his father piped in. "You have won every single hand!"
"I can't help it. I'm an awesome poker player!"
"Thanks for that Brock." Reba mumbled after Jake was out of earshot.
"Well, I don't mean to be rude, but I think it is time for me to turn in." Audrey gave her cards to Brock as she and Louis retreated to the guest room. "Thank you for being wonderful hosts."
Brock was left alone with Reba and Craig as Isabella had found her way to her room shortly before Jake had. Craig tossed his cards on the table and quietly made his way toward the staircase. When he saw Reba had not moved, he looked back at her.
"Are you coming?"
Reba nodded, gently laying her cards down on the table. "Yeah, I will be right there."
Brock smiled across the coffee table at his ex wife. "Now how is it we keep getting sucked into playing poker together?"
She rolled her eyes and smiled girlishly. "And how is it that I keep beating you?"
The challenge had officially been laid down. Suddenly, Brock had no urge to sleep; he wanted to prove her wrong. "You know," he said as he dealt another hand for just the two of them. "I have just been letting you win."
"Really?" Reba said, not convinced that he was telling her the truth, he was merely bluffing. As she picked up her cards, a memory entered her mind from nearly twenty years ago. She and Brock used to play poker quite frequently when business at the bar was slow.
"Hey, look." Brock said nudging his girlfriend's arm with his elbow. "Terry left."
Reba ran a finger through her soft, curly locks. It was never a good thing when Terry left the bar, simply because the poker bets got more interesting. So much so that she and Brock usually left the cards discarded on the bar as the tended to their 'bets.'
"So." She said, knowing her simple response would torture her boyfriend. Brock glanced down at his cards; however instead of sliding a handful of chips across the bar, he leaned over, placing his lips on Reba's ear.
"I raise you a back massage." Reba turned her head, locking her lips on the soft ones that tortured her.
"You must be pretty confident." She whispered against his luscious, pink lips.
"Oh, I am."
"Why do I get the drift that we are talking about two different things here?"
"Well, there's only one way to find out..."
Reba snapped out of her thoughts as Brock picked up his own cards. She placed her palm to her cheek, hoping she didn't appear to be as flushed as she felt. Brock gathered his chips before looking up in her direction.
"Are you okay?" He asked before making another move.
"Mhmm." She nodded, keeping her hand on her cheek in hopes to cool herself off. "I'm fine."
"You look a little flushed." He grabbed her wine glass before she could take another gulp. "Maybe I should take this." Reba glared as if she were a child that had just gotten a lollipop taken away.
"Are you ready?" He set her cup behind him and focused his attention back to his cards.
Reba ran her fingers through her hair. "I sure hope so." she mumbled before clearly enunciating that she was in fact ready to play.
Reba took a glance at her cards before pushing a pile of chips into the center of the coffee table. Brock did the same as he watched her poker face turn. She usually had a great poker face. Tonight, however, she seemed to be a bit off.
"Reba," He pushed his chips into the center of the table as he kept his gaze on her. "Do you remember how we used to play poker?"
Suddenly, the image of Brock leaning across the bar to capture her with a kiss flashed into her mind. She felt a tingling sensation run up her spin as she felt heat radiate from her stomach.
"Brock," her facial expression changed. One would expect Reba to be mad, or even slightly embarrassed at the nature of the question. However, she had a nostalgic smile on her face. She laid her cards down letting the smile grace across her face. "I think it is time for me to go to bed."
"You never answered my question." He said taking a gentle hold on her hand and helping her up off the floor.
"Yes." Her response was whispered simply as she dropped her hand out of Brock's grip and slowly gathered the cards on the table. She placed the deck back on the bookshelf before turning around once again. "Goodnight Brock." She kissed his cheek tenderly before making her way up the stairs and into her bedroom for the night.
Cliffhanger...! Sorry, this chapter is a bit shorter than the others... anywhooo , Thank you for being so loyal! I'm sorry i haven't gotten an update up sooner. Anyway, happy holidays and i hope you enjoyed this chapter. (;