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Seven Card Stud (Stacked Deck Book 7)

Page 18

by Emilia Finn


  “When the week is over,” I interject, “either you can tell me you love me too, or I’ll leave you be.”

  She studies my eyes, and swallows down her nerves. She’s readying to run, preparing to fight. But then she nods. “Okay.”

  “Thank god.”

  I dive forward and slam my lips to hers until her breath scorches down my throat. She wraps her arms around my neck like she did last year, she plasters her chest to mine so there isn’t a single sliver of space between us, then she slides her tongue forward and meets me stroke for stroke.

  “Nope!” Will tears her from my arms so our lips part with a gasp, and Cam’s eyes turn wild as she looks around to see what happened. “Not a minor anymore,” he starts. “But my baby forever. Nope.”

  “Will!”

  “Nope. But I’m glad you guys aren’t fighting anymore.” He points at me. “No touching!”

  “I was just… We just…” My head is woozy. My heart hammering. “It was…”

  “I know what you were just, motherfucker. Hands to your-fuckin’-self. Cam, let’s go. Kincaid, your family is going home.”

  I push off the car when my mom and dad step out of the gym doors and lock up. “Did they find Bean? What’s the plan?”

  “Well, while you were out here scamming on my sister, your folks got word that your sister’s at the fort.” He shrugs. “Inside knowledge, I guess, but it put your mom at ease.”

  “She’s at the fort.” I look into the distance, toward the trees across the town. Then I turn to Cam and look deep into her eyes. “The fort my mom was raised in like a feral animal.”

  “She…” Cam’s eyes widen with surprise. “No.”

  “My sister has money, but she still runs to a worn-down box in the woods when she needs home.” I push away from my car and approach the brother-sister duo. “Not as different as you thought we were.” I duck in fast before Will can knock me the fuck out, and press my lips to hers. “You promised to give me your number.”

  “Nope.” Will tugs his sister away and heads toward their car. “Not tonight, Romeo. Not until she’s forty and no longer my problem.”

  “Cam!” I reach for her. It’s so dramatic, so silly, but I still reach out. She reaches out. We’re separated not by war or violence, just an overprotective big brother. “I need your number!”

  “You can fight me for it tomorrow,” Will glowers. “Now go the fuck away.”

  He tugs Cam away with a final yank, but despite his scowl, she grins. She stumbles under his rough hands, laughs when he mumbles something under his breath.

  “Cam!”

  “Five-five-five—”

  “Wait!” I frantically pat my pockets. “I don’t have a pen!” I snatch my phone when I think of it, try to enter my passcode, remember the numbers she’s already tossed out, and listen to the numbers she’s giving now. “Cam! Wait a sec.”

  Will shoves his sister into the car, slams the door before she can finish, and flips me off as he walks around to his side. “I said no.”

  But she’s smiling. She’s laughing so loud that I hear her through the closed door and window. She’s radiant in the darkness, beautiful in the snow, an angel in the night.

  Giving up on my phone, I bring two fingers to my lips and press a kiss to the pads of my fingertips, then I extend my hand as though to give her the kiss.

  “Here you go, handsome.” As soon as Will slides into his seat and closes the door, Sophia slaps a piece of paper to my chest and winks. “She was giving you her number anyway, so me sharing this can’t be considered a breach of trust or any such thing.”

  “But running a stranger through your fancy computers isn’t an invasion of privacy, right?” I tilt my head to the side to stare into a pair of dark eyes.

  Sophia Solomon is the town’s dance instructor. She’s a ballerina, and looks innocent enough if you go by surface impressions. But when she lets you in, she lets you see that she’s married to a thug. And not the kind of “thug” that hangs out at the local basketball court smoking dope and pretending to be tough. She’s part of a genuine family of criminals, the kind who go nowhere without being armed, the kind who have access to data that not even the local cops do. She’s the kind who will – and if rumors are true, has – killed a man to keep her family safe.

  She’s magic with computers, smart like no one I’ve ever met before, and scarier than her thug husband could ever hope to be.

  “I didn’t run her,” she says. “Not yet, anyway, since I’m kinda busy this week. But just so you know, I run everyone. You were here before me, born into this family, and I still run you on a semi regular basis. At least twice a year, just to keep up to date on things.”

  “Wait.” I take a step back like she whacked me. “What?”

  “I do it for everyone. Don’t take it personally. She was willing to give you her number, so now you have it. But be careful, Kincaid.” She turns so we stand shoulder to shoulder as Will’s taillights fade into darkness. “Everyone has skeletons in their closet. And I’m partial enough to your family now that I feel the need to warn you.”

  “She steals things.”

  Soph snorts. “It’s not stealing if everyone sees her do it.”

  “She has fast hands.”

  “True, but anyone who’s lived that life sees every move those hands make. You, you unfortunate, dumb boy, see nothing except her pretty eyes. Ask you a question?”

  I lift my chin and stare into the darkness. “Sure.”

  “Where’s your wallet?”

  “What?” I whip my hand to my back pocket, only to come up empty. “Fuck!”

  Soph laughs. “She’s sneaky. And I think you’re buying her dessert tonight.”

  “She took my fucking wallet,” I hiss. “Again.”

  “Yeah, well… I doubt that’s all she’s gonna take from you. But who am I to say that? I’m just a lowly woman,” she laments. “And everyone knows we have shoes and cotton candy for brains.”

  “I didn’t say that!” I turn away and head toward my car when my mom and dad climb into theirs. “That was fuckface Baker, and we all know how that turned out for him. Now I have to go and make sure my sister doesn’t cry anymore.”

  I slide into my car and switch on the engine, but I don’t move an inch until Soph meets up with her husband at their car. I’ll be damned if I leave a woman in the dark all alone – homicidal computer hacker or not – and risk something happening to her.

  The second she slides into Jay’s arms and he waves me off, I roll my car into the street and follow my family home. My sister is hurting, and as her brother, it’s my job to make it better. And then when she’s not looking, it’s my job to hurt her boyfriend.

  Because he let her dance for men. He didn’t stop it when he should have.

  Cam

  The Countdown Begins

  Unknown Number: We have seven days to create a love that will go down in literary history. You game?

  Snuggled up in bed with a cup of peanut butter crumble ice cream in a small tub on the bedside table, I smile at my phone, and begin typing a reply.

  Me: Brenton?

  Unknown Number: Who the fuck is Brenton?

  Me: Oh! Sorry. Clint?

  Unknown Number: Woman!

  Me: I’m trying! Um… Is this Kane Bishop? Because I know you’re married and all, but you’re pretty too, so…

  Unknown Number: I don’t come here for this kinda bullshittery.

  Me: Oh, it’s Jay? Sorry. How’s your brother?

  Sexy Secretary: I’m gonna kick your ass.

  Me: Threats of abuse in the first five minutes? Not a good start, Keith.

  “Stop giggling,” Will grumbles with his bad attitude. “I know what you’re doing over there, Cameron. And I’m not okay with it.”

  “He’s cute.” I push the blankets back off my face and smile for my brother as he lounges half-on, half-off the disgusting hotel couch. “He’s charming, and tenacious, and kind, but he also calls me on my bullsh
it.”

  “I didn’t ask for a fucking resumé. I told you to quit it.”

  “He’s handsome,” I sigh. “And his mom and dad still giggle and touch each other’s butts. That’s like…” I relax back in bed and smile. “Wow. Can you imagine that kind of romance?”

  “He’s a punk-ass fighter who was raised a rich boy. No doubt he’s spoiled and annoying.”

  “You can admit it, you know? You think he’s cool.”

  “Yeah,” he concedes. “I think he’s cool. I think the whole family is cool. But you’re my family, and I’m not giving you up yet. So stop with the fuckin’ giggling in bed.”

  Sexy Secretary: Meet me tonight? I’ll come by the hotel.

  Me: If you think my brother will let me walk out this door tonight to climb into a guy’s car, you have lost your damn mind.

  Sexy Secretary: You’re 18! What’s he gonna do about it?

  Me: I’m certain there will be handcuffs, duct tape, and a stern talking-to involved. And seeing as he’s my brother, it won’t be as sexy as when it happens in the movies. Did you see that movie?

  Sexy Secretary: No. Tomorrow morning?

  Me: You wanna go to the movies in the morning?

  Sexy Secretary: No. I wanna kiss you in the morning. We’re on the clock now, Quinn. Every minute you waste can never be reclaimed.

  It’s like a shot of electricity when I read Quinn on my screen. It’s silly and dumb, but still, it’s almost like he can somehow see right down into my soul.

  Me: You’re really dramatic, you know that?

  And yet, his words make me yearn for another minute with him.

  Me: I’m gonna head outside in ten minutes to take the trash out. There’s a big old dumpster in the far corner of the parking lot. The streetlights above have been smashed, and there have been past reports of the boogeyman hanging out there.

  Sexy Secretary: I can be there in seven minutes. It would be my civic duty to make sure you get back inside safely.

  Me: Okay, well… catch you later. Maybe.

  “Absolutely not.” Will’s eyes snap around to me the instant I toss my blankets off and kick my feet out of the warmth of the shoddy electric blanket. It wouldn’t be surprising if I end up on the news; a charred body, dead from a hotel fire. But in the meantime, it’s toasty warm and comforting. “Bubbles. No.”

  “I’m taking the trash out.”

  “No, you’re fuckin’ not,” he growls. But I see a smile there too. A smirk. “I was an eighteen-year-old guy not so long ago. I like him, but that doesn’t mean I’m serving you up on a platter for him to take.”

  I bring a hand up to my brow and heave a dramatic sigh. “Why oh why do I see images of myself on a silver serving tray? I have an apple in my mouth, and roasted potatoes sitting around me. Why, Will?” I stumble off the bed and stop by his ear. “Whyyyyyy?”

  “Because you’re weird. You’re not going outside tonight. You’re insane if you think I’m letting you.”

  “Hey, Will?” I snatch a hoodie from the end of my bed and shrug it on. “You said you were eighteen once, a little bit naughty like him?”

  “Mm.” That’s all he says for a moment as he stares at the TV. “Which means I know exactly his game plan for the rest of this week. I know why it starts in a dark parking lot at eleven o’clock at night.”

  “But, since you know,” I sit on the end of the bed and pull on my shoes, “does that mean you did those things? Were you the boy in the parking lot?”

  “Yup. And I was a disrespectful motherfucker, too. Not at all recommended for good girls like you.”

  “You wouldn’t deprive me of my moment of disrespect, would you?” I finish tying the laces on one shoe, then work on the other. “You got to make your mistakes, live your life, do your thing. Now it’s my time.”

  “I got to learn from my mistakes so that I could stop you from making the same.”

  “But that’s not nearly as much fun for me.” Finishing my laces, I jump up from the bed and snatch Will’s coat from the back of the couch. “I’m borrowing this.”

  “It goes to your knees, shorty. And no. you’re not borrowing it, because you’re not going outside.”

  “I’m probably gonna let him kiss me.”

  I slide my hands into the pockets — instinct, I guess, as one always searches pockets. But I scowl when my fingers brush over something… well… soggy.

  “What the hell is…” I bring my hand out and hiss. “Your mouthguard? Will! Why the hell is that in here?” I peg it at my brother, smile when it nails him on the side of the head and bounces away, then I turn toward our kitchenette in search of our mini trashcan. “I’m going outside for ten minutes. I’m intrigued enough to let him disrespect me for three to seven of those minutes.”

  “Cameron!”

  “I want to kiss him, Will.” I cross the room and stop beside the couch. Lowering into a squat, I stare into his eyes and plead. “I want to kiss him. He’s weird, and pushy, and loud, and rude. He’s bossy and has bad manners. He’s rich and probably spoiled, and you know I don’t want any part of that. But…” I sigh. “He kissed me today. And he kissed me once last year. And I swear, he makes me sweat. He makes me less bitter, because he fights my bad mood with something obnoxious or funny. Often, it’s obnoxious and funny at the same time. He’s charming, and I swear, I have never in my life met a man that is charming.”

  “Uh, excuse the fuck outta me. What am I? Chopped liver?”

  “You’re my brother.” I push up to stand, but drop a kiss to the top of his head before I turn away. “You’re my big, strong, brave, handsome brother. But Jamie is…” I press a hand to my heart. “A freakin’ conundrum. That’s what he is. Because I can’t keep him. Even if we ignored the physical distance between our towns, we can’t ignore our circumstances.”

  “Which is why you should stay inside. I’m not saying never, Bubbles. Because hell, Rich Boy wants to take care of you, then I’m all over it.”

  “Asshole.” I ping a bottle cap in his direction. “I’m not a damsel, you know?”

  “I’m not saying no forever. He can come to the door in the daylight hours. Once I’ve had time to buy you steel armor and the padlocks to keep it in place. But eleven at night?” He sits up on the couch and shakes his head. “That’s a fuckin’ booty call.”

  “Except it’s my booty. And I’m not going to shake it for him while standing beside a filthy dumpster. I’m going out there to say hello. And perhaps kiss him, if the moment is right.”

  “It’s dark!” Will throws his hands up. “That automatically makes it the right moment. A guy, a girl, adrenaline, and giggles. You’re gonna do something you can’t undo, Cam.”

  “I think that already happened.” I laugh when his eyes flare with rage. “Relax. I don’t mean that in the literal sense. I just mean…” I clear my throat and frown. “I don’t know. No matter what, I’ll never forget this guy. I might grow to hate him, or love him, or something in-between, but for the rest of my life, I’ll remember him. And I think that’s important for a girl like me.”

  “Tell him to come back in the daylight, and I’ll be fine with it.”

  “Sure, I’ll invite him over for breakfast. That was a kind offer. Thank you.”

  “You’re still going outside right now, aren’t you?”

  “Yup.” I grin when a set of headlights moves across the parking lot and flickers through our curtains. “He’s here.”

  “Cameron…”

  “I’ll be outside with a boy. And we’ll be hiding under a broken streetlamp. Don’t panic.”

  “Cameron!”

  I snatch up the bag of trash with a squeal, tie it while I dodge Will’s hands, and burst through the door on a run, only to skid to a stop on the wooden balcony when I find Jamie striding across the blacktop.

  He’s not staying in his car and expecting me to come to him. He’s walking toward our room at a typical ‘booty call’ hour, knowing that Will is in here.

  “Ugh
.” I look back to my brother and sigh. “He’s a gentleman. He’s crass and annoying, but underneath that…”

  “Pain in my fuckin’ ass,” Will growls. “Go, be good. If you so much as unzip that coat, I’m coming down to belt some sense into you.”

  “Wow. That’s two threats of violence in one night.”

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing!”

  I head along the wooden verandah at a skip-jog that brings Miles Walker to his door with a lifted brow. He and Alyssa are back again this year. His little girl has grown so much in such a short amount of time. But his protective streak remains the same.

  “Hey, Miles!” I dash past his door with a giddy grin.

  “Get back to your room,” he drawls. “Parking lot hookups are for floozies. Not good girls.”

  “Guess I’m about to get dirtied up, then. Tell Lyss not to watch.”

  I sprint to the top of the stairs, skip down the steps with a wild smile, and when Jamie stops at the bottom with a wide grin, I jump and force him to catch me or let me slam to the concrete ground.

  “Hey there, handsome.” I press a kiss to his left cheek. His right. His jaw. “You’re cuter than I remembered.”

  “Oh… um…” Jamie holds me up so my legs wrap around his hips, and men watch on like he’s about to die. “You’re… uh… wow. Okay. You make a decision and run with it, huh?”

  “For now.” I nod toward the dumpster. “Let’s go hide in the dark. I have to toss this away,” I show him the bag, “then we can make out for a minute. Will has me on a curfew though, so be fast.”

  “Oh, shit, right, okay.”

  He turns on the spot and carries me across the lot like it’s totally normal to carry a grown woman… especially when that grown woman was so anti-Jamie Kincaid not so long ago. His hands rest under my ass, our chests press together so he can see past me and not fall down. He carries me to the front of his car and sets me on the warm hood until my sigh comes out on a dirty groan.

  He takes the bag from my hands, shaking his head when I wiggle on the warmth of the hood, then he tosses the bag away and comes back to stand between my legs and stare down into my eyes. “There are eleven sets of fighters’ eyes watching us right now. Eleven. I can see them all, which means they can see us.”

 

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