A Wife for One Year. Brenda Harlen

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       Chapter Three

      Daniel’s inaugural visit to Sin City had been with both of his brothers in celebration of his twenty-first birthday. Since then, he’d visited Las Vegas on several other occasions, usually with a group of buddies. He’d never brought a woman with him to Vegas, and he’d never imagined returning home with one as his wife.

      But it was official now—he was married. And the band on his finger had been placed there by the woman who had been his best friend for the past ten years.

      He shook his head. Even though it had been his idea, it was still hard to believe that Kenna was his wife.

      He sat down at the blackjack table with a stack of chips, because he had nothing better to do. And how pathetic was that? It was his wedding night, his bride was in their room alone and he was playing cards.

      Pathetic perhaps, but necessary. Because if he’d stayed upstairs with Kenna, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands off her. And he had no intention of crossing lines that had been firmly established more than ten years earlier just because one kiss had somehow stirred up wants and needs that he’d learned to ignore long ago.

      As he pushed a chip toward the center of the table, the overhead lights glinted off the gold band on his third finger, making him pause.

      “You’ll sleep on the couch for a couple of weeks if you’re gambling with the down payment for your house,” the man sitting immediately to Daniel’s left warned.

      “What?”

      “I saw you hesitate after you glanced at the ring,” he explained.

      Daniel knew a serious card player was always looking for clues about the other players at his table. Since he’d never taken the games too seriously, he didn’t pay much attention.

      “Name’s Cal,” the gray-haired man said, offering a hand. “But my friends call me Archie.”

      As he shook the man’s proffered hand, he found himself thinking that the stranger looked somewhat familiar.

      “Daniel Garrett,” he said. “And we haven’t even started to look for a house.”

      “Newlyweds,” Archie surmised.

      He nodded, unwilling to admit exactly how new. “Are you married?”

      The old man shook his head. “No wife, just two exes.”

      Daniel signaled the dealer to “hit.” He added a four of hearts to the jack of clubs and seven of diamonds, giving him twenty-one.

      “Not a lot of players hit on seventeen,” Archie noted. “I’m not sure whether that demonstrates confidence or recklessness.”

      “I’m not much of a gambler, but I figure playing it safe isn’t really gambling, is it?”

      “That’s one perspective,” the other man agreed. “And I guess if you don’t care too much about winning, you can afford to lose.”

      Daniel only nodded and placed his next bet.

      Archie played steadily, giving nothing of his thoughts or feelings away. He gestured his request for a hit or stay wordlessly, and alternately relinquished his bets or pulled in his winnings with equanimity.

      Daniel slid another chip into betting position on the baize and wondered what Kenna would say if she knew the table he was sitting at had a hundred-dollar minimum. It was the same amount he’d won from his friends back in high school, after he’d bribed her with half to go out with him.

      The dealer busted at twenty-two, paid out to the winners, then wished them all luck as she moved on to another table.

      A new dealer came in and took up position, and Daniel considered calling it a night. He’d won more than he’d lost but, more important, he’d spent enough time at the table that his wife should be tucked into bed and sleeping by now.

      A cocktail waitress sidled up to the table and set a glass of amber-colored liquid beside Archie. He nodded in acknowledgment and handed her a green chip.

      “Thank you, Mr. Archer.”

      And Daniel suddenly realized why the man had looked familiar. “Calvin Archer—as in Archer Glass?”

      “That’s me,” he confirmed.

      Daniel decided to ante up. “You used to sponsor the number four-fourteen car.”

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