After winning the first game and losing the second, Paul knew three things about Dr. Madison Gray.
The first thing Paul knew about the woman was that she bit her lip when she was deep in thought. She nibbled at the left side when she was uncertain and was still working through her thoughts. She clamped down on the right side of her lip when she’d solved the problem and was sure she’d backed her opponent into a corner.
Paul settled back against the pillows on his hospital bed. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched the show at play on Madison’s mouth. Her lips were pursed together now as she studied the game board.
But, no, wait. Just there. He saw it.
The pearly white of her left incisor snuck out. The sharp point bit down into the plump flesh on the left side of her mouth in uncertainty. Everything in Paul ached to reach his thumb out and tug at her lower lip, to wipe away the uncertainty and replace it with a kiss.
The flash of white disappeared. Madison retracted her left tooth, but it left a dent. A grin split her beautiful face, and her right incisor bit down on the right side of her mouth.
So she thought she had him. She was right. Madison had Paul completely at her mercy.
The grooves of the ridged game pieces made a grinding noise as Madison pressed them together in a windshield-wiping motion between her thumb and forefinger. It should’ve grated on Paul’s nerves. But, like everything about this woman, he found the sound delightful.
Madison reached out and dropped a red game piece into a slot at the top of the yellow chute. The plastic slid down the grid and landed with a thud on top of one of his black pieces that had gone down the chute a few moments ago.
“Your move, Major.”
Paul didn’t bother looking down at the standing game board. He simply raised his hands and let one of his black pieces drop down the chute and land where it may. The move elicited the exact response he’d been after.
“What? Are you insane?” Madison huffed. “Why would you make that move when you could’ve blocked me?”
Paul tore his gaze from the cute scrunch of Madison’s face to look down at the game. He hadn’t played Connect Four since he was a kid. But that was the game at the top of the box. It could’ve been Candy Land for all he cared. Because it wasn’t about the game. It was simply about playing. That might have been what was happening with him. It was a different story with Madison.
The second thing Paul knew about Madison was that she was competitive. She went into the arena expecting to win. And she did not like to lose.
Even in something as trivial as a kid’s game, Madison had gone in with a strategy. The first round of the game, she had played the middle column, aiming to gain a strategic advantage and push him to the edge. She was pushing him to the edge, all right. Little did she know that Paul was one to push back, but she was about to find out.
As Madison became focused on taking control, Paul easily snuck past her defenses and built a solid diagonal line that she’d missed. Her lovely face had contorted in disbelief as she counted and then recounted the four black pieces that connected to give him the victory.
“Let’s play again,” she had demanded.
Paul had agreed. The second time they’d played, she’d won. Because the second time, Paul had been focused on learning and memorizing her facial features as she played. Which led him to the lip-biting discovery. His attentiveness to the lip-biting had led to his loss.
As a soldier, he knew that sometimes a battle had to be lost in order to make an advance. He’d gathered valuable intel with that loss. Even more valuable intel than when he’d watched her win.
The third and final thing Paul knew about Madison—and this he knew for certain—was that he was definitely going to win. Not the third game in the tiebreaker of their Connect Four bout. It didn’t matter which of them connected four game pieces first. Paul was going to win at connecting the two of them together. Because unlike Madison, who was playing simply to win, Paul was playing for keeps.
Except when he looked down to make a new move in the children’s game, he realized he didn’t have any pieces left. Neither did Madison. They’d packed the game board without making the appropriate amount of connections with their game pieces.
“A tie?” said Madison in utter disbelief. “I didn’t even know that was possible in this game.”
“Maybe you’ve finally met your match, Dr. Gray.”
Madison bit at her lip. First, she nibbled at the left side with uncertainty. A second later, she tugged at the right. Finally, she tugged at the center to pull her whole bottom lip inside her mouth.
What did that mean?
“What does this mean?” she asked. “Does this mean you’re going to let me perform the surgery?”
Oh, right. They were back to that. The game of life. His life.
Speaking of his life, Paul felt a twinge in his toes. He looked down at his leg. His torso was covered by a blanket, but he saw the twitch at the bottom edge of the covers.
Madison looked down as well. “You feel something?”
Once again with the loaded questions. “Yes. Yes, I do feel something.”
Her gaze shifted from his legs to his face. Her hand was on his knee, but she was leaning in to him. It would just take a few inches, and Paul would have that kiss he so desperately wanted.
He leaned forward.
Madison didn’t retreat. She bit at the left side of her lip. Paul had every intention of placing his lips first on the left side of her mouth. He was going to wipe away any trace of uncertainty in this woman.
“Ahem.” A throat cleared behind them.
The tingling in Paul’s legs grew, letting him know that he had enough strength to stand. He was going to march over to the door and slam it in Dr. Vader’s face.
“Chief!”
Before he could swing his legs off the bed, Madison leaped to standing. Her motion nearly sent the entire game board and its pieces scattering to the floor. But Paul caught it at the last second.