Asa Hosts Game Night

“DON’T RUSH ME,” she says, her gaze hard and unyielding. “I can hear you breathing at me.” I love picking at Diana when she’s concentrating. I don’t really care if I win at Scrabble, but the truth is, Diana cares very deeply, and I know she’ll be into some hot, angry sex with me if she loses.

I sit back, keeping my breathing audible, while she ponders her tiles. I don’t know how I know that she must have a rack full of I’s and L’s. My brain just works that way—I keep track of which tiles have been played. I’ve always been able to retain small details, which is why I was great at venture capitalism and why I’m even better at managing Tributary Farms for my hot, feisty boss.

“I hate you,” she says, plunking down WILL for a measly 10 points. She pulls the last 3 tiles from the drawstring bag and I rub my toe up her leg from my seat across the dining room table. She kicks my foot away, and I know she’s pulled out a U and maybe an S or two.

I’m up by 45 points, and I very slowly, very deliberately plunk down O, D, E along Diana’s WILL, snatching the double word score in two directions. She’s probably going to bite me for this. I’m into it.

Archer laughs from where he stands leaning against my counter, finishing his beer. “Oh snap, Wexler. How do you always find these words?” Archer won’t even agree to play Scrabble with us anymore. He’s more of a chess or Battleship guy. I’ve come to love game night with Diana’s siblings. They’re all book-smart and wicked competitive. I had no idea watching Jeopardy could become a contact sport, but if you drag a bunch of Crawfords into a room together, you better bring your A-game once that trivia music starts up.

I shrug in response to Archer and duck as Diana prepares to throw her tiles at me. “Come on now, Crawford,” I tell her. “You’re getting Scrabble pieces in Abigail’s guacamole.” Diana pouts and bites her lip, noticing that I’m correct. I see the gleam in her eye, like she’s figuring out just how soon she can toss her siblings out in the cold and take her anger out on me.

Hunter plucks an X from the guac bowl and scoops out a big mouthful. “I recommend we let Archer host next time.”

Abigail shakes her head and interjects, “Oh, no. He only lets us play games with tiny pieces and if Diana throws those, we’ll never find them all.” Her cheeks turn pink as we all share a laugh. I reach over and massage her thigh, lean in to drop a kiss on her hot skin.

I feel her practically vibrating, and can see her pulse tick in her throat. I stand up and, carrying a bunch of plates to the sink, announce, “Well, Crawfords, I hate to break it to you, but I’m asking you to leave.”

“You’re not even going to keep us around so you can gloat?”

“Very funny, Archie.” I smile at Diana. “But seriously, we’ve got an early morning harvest coming up and you know your sister likes to supervise.”

“Abigail rushes to close up the chip bags and Hunter carries the dips to the fridge. This life I lead is a far cry from where I stood a year ago. But as we bustle my goddess’s siblings out into the cold, I smile. I can be myself here. The people are genuine, if eccentric, and life is all very much an open book. Archer thinks none of us know he’s been banging Indigo’s midwife, Abigail thinks we don’t know they’re trying to conceive, and Rose Mitchell thinks she’s being sly about her plans to retire. But the other great thing about Oak Creek is that the people here are very accepting of their own. We are all sitting back and following their lead, waiting until they decide the time is right to make a public move.

Now that Diana is running her own business and making a name for herself all over the world of botany, she’s in her element. This woman is inspired and brilliant and confident. I spend half my life marveling at the ideas that come out of her head. No longer struggling with trust or with her research, she has nothing to be pissed off about…except losing at board games.

“Wexler!” she shouts from down the hall as I lock up. “Hurry up and get your ass in here.”

I stop in the kitchen to slip a few snacks in the pocket of my gray sweats. Something tells me we’ll both be working up an appetite.

Continue the series with Archer and Opal in The Midwife and the Money.