"You're complicating things, Harrison." Tommy muttered huskily underneath his breath as I looked up at him with a frown—lying back on the bed as I did.
"Don't I always?" I asked quietly as Tom watched me a minute in silence—staring, I think, at the way I was sprawled out before walking toward me slowly while holding out the champagne bottle as if he thought I needed it as much as he did. I just shook my head at it. Who needs to be out of control when you already felt out of control, if that makes sense? Tom just shrugged.
"Suit yourself." He muttered as he upended the bottle again before setting it down on the floor and letting himself fall down onto the bed beside me—his head at my feet, and my head at his feet. I laughed sardonically.
"Damn if life doesn't like handing us lemons…" I remarked softly as Tommy elbowed me in the legs.
"Then make lemonade, Harrison." Tom intercepted as I pulled a hair gently on his leg, mostly to hear him yelp.
"And what if you don't have sugar, Tom?" I asked him curiously before sitting upright to stare down into his face. He sat up too.
"Then drink it sour, make a face, and keep on walking through life by finding ways to drown out the bitterness." Tom finished as I watched him a moment—letting my eyes trace the line of his jaw? Something told me he knew that from experience.
"Are we really talking about lemons?" Tom asked with a frown as I laughed before nodding. Yeah, we were really talking about lemons. He looked at me a moment before lying back down again. It was awkward for us, I guess, after his sudden absence and then return, after this strange vacation, and after the problems we'd had creating music together. I sat there a minute longer.
"I always keep a deck of cards in my beach bag." I stated suddenly with a shrug as Tom raised a brow up at me.
"Cards?" He asked as I laughed at his skeptical tone.
"You've never traveled with SME or my family. Sometimes it's best to keep entertainment options tucked away in case of emergencies." I mumbled as he grinned suddenly. Sudden grins made me nervous.
"You any good at Black Jack?" Tom asked quietly as I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Tom, no one's good at Black Jack. It's a game of chance. You just hope you get lucky." I remarked as his grin grew wider.
"Then do you feel lucky tonight?" Tom asked in his best "Dirty Harry' impersonation as he leaned up onto his elbow. I eyed him a moment before leaning over so that my face was only mere inches away from his.
"It depends on what you mean by lucky. Are you a gambler, Quincy?" I asked dryly as he 'tsked tsked' in my general direction.
"Just grab your cards, Harrison, but I warn you that there will be ultimatums and we'll play only one hand." Tom replied as I slid off the bed and dug through my small bag before climbing back onto the mattress and staring him directly in the eyes.
"Ultimatums?" I asked as he took the deck and began shuffling it almost expertly before distributing the cards. He smiled again.
"If I win this hand, you have to share the bed." He commented as I laughed. So that was what he was up to.
"And if I win the hand, you have to answer one important question for me." I said slowly as he pursed his lips a moment in doubt before nodding. I guess he didn't seem to feel worried about the question. I stared at him as he flipped over a card before looking down at it. It was an 8. I sighed as he grinned again while flipping over his card. It was an ace. He looked at me expectantly as I sighed before taking the plunge.
"Hit me." I called out as he put his hand on another card—stopping a moment just as I had started holding my breath.
"Are you sure?" He asked in that annoyingly arrogant sing-song voice he used when he was utterly too confident.
"Just hit me dammit!" I called out in exasperation as he chuckled before flipping over the card. It was a Jack. I had eighteen. I was not taking chances.
"I'll stay." I stated as he shrugged before looking up at me—directly into my eyes as I reached out for a blank card—turning it over slowly just as he said 'hit me.' It was a king. Damn it! I watched his eyes darken as he picked up the cards. "And that hand beats yours, Harrison." Tom pointed out as I rolled my eyes up at him. He laughed.
"But just to show you what a good sport I am, I'll still let you ask that question." Tom said quietly as I looked up at him uncertainly. Now that, I had not expected.
"Are you sure?" I asked slowly as he nodded. I took the cards from him and dropped them into my bag before moving over—close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin emanating in waves against the chill of mine. Was he sure he wanted me to ask? We were standing at the edge of something way too deep--to big maybe for both of us.