Free Stranded by Jaymie Holland

that.”
    Holden gave an innocent look. “Don’t you mean
charming?”
    Dawson’s expression was just as innocent.
“Handsome?”
    “Funny?”
    “Exciting?”
    “Sexy?”
    “None of those come close to what I was
thinking of.” Erika held her hands up. “I give up.” Her stomach
rumbled and she looked at the crunchy chicken that Holden was
taking out of a pan of oil. She was used to eating sort of healthy
with her microwave dinners and always chose grilled meats and fresh
veggies when she ate out. “Who eats fried food anymore?”
    Holden put the last chicken breast on the
paper towels that were soaked in oil. “There’s nothing wrong with a
little grease once a month.”
    “I guess once a month won’t kill you.” She
tilted her head to the side as she thought about fried foods. “The
last fried chicken I can remember having was when I was a kid. My
mom used to make it. She was from the south and I think fried
chicken was part of her religion.”
    “Then it’s time you have it again.” Holden
turned off the flame and moved the pan to a back burner on the gas
stove. He stirred the pan of gravy, turned off the heat, and moved
it to a trivet on the countertop.
    He stepped aside so that Dawson could open
the oven door, using mitts to take out a pan of biscuits.
    Erika had to admit it smelled incredible.
Absolutely incredible. She put everything negative about greasy
foods out of her mind and enjoyed the meal immensely.
    Once dinner was over and dishes taken care
of, Holden cracked open another special bottle of wine and they
carried the wine and glasses to the living room. They drank wine
and watched the news, which was all about the storm.
    Erika shook her head. “Is it ever going to
end?”
    Dawson raised his wine glass and looked
directly at her. “I can’t think of better company to be stuck with
in a snowstorm.”
    Holden clinked his glass with his cousin’s.
“I’ll toast to that.”
    She hesitated and the men grinned at her.
“Oh, hell.” She raised her glass. “To snowstorms.”
    Holden used the remote to turn off the TV.
“How about a card game?”
    She looked at him dryly. “As long as it’s not
strip poker.”
    Dawson flashed a broad smile. “That’s a great
idea.”
    “No. It’s not.” She shook her head, almost
tipping her wine glass.
    Holden laughed and opened a pair of doors at
the bottom of the bookshelf. He brought out a tray of poker chips
and a deck of cards and set them all on the coffee table. He
crouched on one knee. “How about twenty-one?”
    “All right.” She slid off the couch so that
she was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. Her bare
breasts bounced beneath the T-shirt and the material rubbed against
her sensitive nipples.
    Holden and Dawson made themselves comfortable
too, and she thought she saw them taking peeks at her breasts.
Served them right to see and not touch.
    Holden handed out stacks of chips and Dawson
started dealing. They played for about an hour while drinking their
wine, and Erika lost spectacularly.
    “What happened to beginner’s luck?” she
muttered as Holden swept away the last of her chips and Dawson
gathered the cards.
    Dawson looked at her with amusement as he
shuffled the cards. “How about a different game of poker?”
    “I’ve never played poker.” She caught herself
twirling her ponytail and stopped. “Crazy Eights and Go Fish are
more up my line. I could beat your asses at one of those.”
    Holden grinned and Dawson laughed.
    “We’ll teach you Seven-Card Stud.” Holden
handed her more chips.
    She took a drink of wine then looked at him
doubtfully. “I’m game for anything.”
    Dawson raised his brows. “Anything?”
    She gave him a pretend glare. “Get your mind
out of the gutter.” His grin told her he wasn’t sorry at all for
the innuendo.
    The wine had given her a warm, mellow feeling
and she enjoyed the card games, even if she was losing. Apparently,
Seven-Card Stud wasn’t her game, either, and