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Look at him, sitting there with a faint smile on his face, complacency personified. When he glances my way I glare at him.
"You wouldn't look so smug if I could read your devious mind."
He discards two cards, draws two more. I drop three, pull three.
"We wouldn't be playing this game if you could read my mind."
I have a dismal hand and I know he knows it and it drives away the last shreds of my patience. I toss the cards down and look at him.
His green eyes gleam. "Let's get you out of those jeans."