A thick lump formed in her throat. She could quit before the game started, but her competitive spirit was determined to see this to the end. Besides, he was in a shirt and sweatpants. She might have a shot at winning.
She squinted. “Fine.”
They began. The first two rounds were a draw. Her nerves interfered with her moves, and she lost the third round. Before he said a word, she removed the elastic band holding her hair in place.
“Leila.” He groaned, his hand stretched out to her. “That doesn’t count as an item of clothing.”
Disappointment was boldly written across his face. His eyes darkened with annoyance, but she grinned. She ran her fingers through the hair cascading down her shoulders, conscious of her husband’s smoldering gaze.
“It is, Kev.” Her jaw set in rebellion. “You did
