Seven Card Stud (Stacked Deck Book 7)

by Emilia Finn

  When he refuses to look away from her, Cam looks to Lyss, who has managed to sneak away and is now climbing on the handrail of the stairs leading down. “Take care of your own glass house, Miles Walker.”

  “Lyss!” Miles breaks away from Will and sprints to his daughter twenty feet away. “Baby! You can’t climb that.”

  “Peace out, crazies.” Cam raises a hand in the air, flashes the peace sign, then turns away to slide into my car. “Climb in, Secretary, before Will loses his patience and kills us both.”

  So I do. I snatch my coffee from the roof of the car, make my way around the hood, and slide in to the front seat, only to frown when I can’t find my…

  “You took my keys!”

  She only laughs and drops them into my lap. “Just making sure I haven’t lost my touch.”

  I drive her around town for a bit. I give her the tour, the highlights. From my gym, to the lake, from the hospital, to the police station. I drive past my family’s estate — empty, because everyone is at the gym — and continue back around, since I know we’re flirting with the town limits.

  “Why does he call you Bubbles?”

  Caught in her own world, Cam’s eyes remain on the trees outside the car windows as we fly by. The forest surrounding our town is dense enough that it can’t be driven through. If you want to come in and out of our town, you have to use the roads. There’s no other way.

  “Hey?” I reach across the seats and take her hand.

  Her eyes come to mine, flicker with realization, then finally, her attention. “Hm?”

  I bring her hand up to my lips and nibble. “I was talking to you. You got something on your mind?”

  “No.” She relaxes back into her seat and twines her fingers with mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like we’ve been dating a lifetime, and not a matter of hours. “I was just daydreaming. What did you say?”

  I look to her while we drive along a straight, study her pert nose, the butt chin, her dirty denim eyes. And fuck it, hours together or years, my heart beats faster when I simply look at her. “I asked why Will calls you Bubbles.”

  “Oh.” Exhaling, her body seems to melt into the chair as her grin creeps up. “It’s just a silly nickname he started when I was a kid. He was making fun of me at first, but then I guess it stuck and became a term of endearment.”

  “So…?” I keep her hand wrapped in mine as we move around a curve. “You’re not gonna tell me?”

  “It’s embarrassing,” she groans and laughs at once. “I’d rather not share that information with you.”

  “I shit in the pool once when we were kids.”

  Bursting out in laughter, she turns to me with a red face. “What?”

  “I blamed it on my cousin. To this day, my entire family still teases him for it. Bry will forever be known as the pool shitter, and I…” I laugh. “Will never admit it was me.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I had a stomach ache. It’s not like I got into the pool with the sole purpose of crapping myself. It just… you know. It was time, and I couldn’t get out fast enough.”

  “No!” She yanks her hand from mine and presses it to her stomach. “I mean, why are you telling me about the pool incident at all?”

  “Oh, because I wanna know about the Bubbles thing. You said it was embarrassing, so I traded my own embarrassing story in hopes that you would reciprocate.”

  “I never agreed to that.” She picks up her almost empty coffee, and sips it through a smile. “I mean, it’s great that you spilled your guts…” She clears her throat. “Figuratively, I mean. But I never agreed to a dignity exchange program, so…”

  “You blew bubbles all the time as a baby.”

  She rolls her eyes. “No.”

  “Your first word was bubbles.”

  “No! How is that embarrassing?”

  I shrug. “You used to eat the rock candy. The kind that makes bubbles in your mouth. And one time, you sneezed, so the candy went into your nose and made booger bubbles.”

  Scowling, lowering her coffee, she turns to me. “No, weirdo. And that sounds really unpleasant.”

  “I have no clue, and zero experience with a situation like that. Um… lemme think. Oh!” I tilt my head and try to stare at her ass, even though she’s sitting on it. “You had the booty. A big ol’ bubble butt that you lost once you started dancing?”

  “No, I’ve always been Little Miss Back and Crack. I’m too white for my own good.”

  Laughter bubbles inside my chest as we approach town, and I slow for the intersection. “That’s unfortunate, I guess.”

  “You like big butts, Secretary?”

  I press a hand to my heart and grin. “I cannot lie. But I gotta say, I’m partial to yours too. It sits up and demands I pay attention.”

  She rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. “Lots of dancing makes my butt sit the way it does. I mean, I shouldn’t complain. Not being back-heavy makes it easier to dance. But having a little more down there would make my jeans sit better.”

  “You win some, you lose some. So not a bubble butt. And not popping candy…” I meet her eyes. “I’m running out of ideas.”

  “I didn’t agree to this game.” She swings a hand out and smacks my thigh. “I’m not telling you.”

  “How old is Will again?”

  She pulls back to fist her coffee, and while she thinks, she frowns. “He’s twenty-five. Why?”

  “So, he’s… what, seven years older than you?”

  “Correct. What’s your point?”

  “Not just an older brother,” I murmur as we pull into a parking lot at the back of a large brick building. Sliding the car out of gear, and cutting the engine, I turn to Cam and grin. “But a caretaker.”

  “You solved the riddle.” She unsnaps her belt. “Let’s go.”

  “He was old enough to take care of you as a baby,” I push. “Not, you know, in regular responsible families. But you already said your folks are junkies. That means they weren’t pillar parents. It means he had to take care of you when you were small.”

  “Uh huh. Let’s go–”

  I grab her wrist when she turns to push out of the car, only to yank her back and grin when she slams against the seat, and a puff of air explodes from her lungs. She still wears my beanie, but her hair is drying from the heater pulsing through the vents.

  She’s fucking radiant. Stunning. And wearing my hat.

  Sexy.

  “You farted in the bath, didn’t you?”

  Her eyes widen. “What? No! I didn’t… okay, fine.” She huffs with a snicker. “I was a toddler, I farted in the bath, it made bubbles. So sue me.”

  “You liked it, didn’t you? I can see you as a toddler, giggling your head off at something so stupid.”

  “You’re stupid. Let me out of this—”

  I yank her back again, but this time, I catch her lips and swallow her surprised gasp. I’ve been waiting for this since I woke up this morning. Hoping and wishing that last night wasn’t a fluke or a dream. My tongue slides along her bottom lip. My teeth follow, gently grazing her plump lip, and drawing pained gasps every time I bite a little harder.

  “Jamie,” she sighs and gives a gentle shake of her head. “This is gonna hurt so bad when we have to break it off again.”

  “But you said you were giving yourself permission to enjoy,” I murmur against her lips. “You promised that you would allow it.”

  “I’m starting to get cold feet, because I know it’s gonna hurt.”

  “Don’t think about the after.” I bring a hand up to cup her chin, slide the pad of my thumb over the dimple that somehow makes me so happy. “Don’t worry about the future when you know you can’t control it anyway. Focus on right now. Because right now, I have a surprise for you.”

  “You…” Her eyes focus on mine. “What?”

  I lean back in and press my lips to hers. Once. Twice. Three times until she relaxes and kisses me back without th
e tension in her shoulders. “Would you trust me enough to blindfold you and lead you somewhere?”

  “You are seriously insane if you think I’m gonna allow that.”

  I press another kiss to her lips. “Pretty please? It’ll be dark for like, three minutes. I won’t let you go once. I won’t let you fall down. And then I promise, when you’re where you need to go, you’ll be really happy.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” She looks out into the parking lot. Thankfully, the back of this building looks nothing like the front, so it’s unrecognizable to her. “What if that building is where they hack bodies up and bury them, never to be found again?”

  “Well…” I unsnap my belt and sit back to get comfortable in the warm interior. “They had a business like that here once. It was called Roy’s Cuts, ironically. Though, the guy doing the cutting wasn’t actually named Roy. That was his grandpa Roy. But anywho, eventually, business got a little slow, and Not-Roy, whose name was Rodney, had to get a regular job at the local butchery.” I shrug. “The family has a special skillset, I suppose you could say.”

  “Ha.” She rolls her eyes. “Of course his name is Rodney.” She looks back to the building and shakes her head. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m not a very trusting person. In fact, I’d rather stab you with your own keys than let you blindfold and lead me anywhere right now.”

  “What if,” I counter with a smile, “instead of a blindfold, I use my hand to cover your eyes? We’ll be in such a position that if you wanted to bail, you could easily and quickly kick me in the nutsack and send me to the ground in agonizing pain.”

  “Or…” She lets the word roll on. “I could kick you in the nuts anyway, just for the sake of having a laugh. I know for sure it would make me smile.”

  “Please don’t.” I place both hands over my crotch and cup everything I have. “I’m kinda protective of my frank and beans. So please save the kicking for when you’re actually in danger and need to get away.”

  I wait for her eyes to leave my crotch and come back to mine. “Please let me show you this thing. I swear you’ll like it, and if I see any sharp knives for the removal of limbs, I’ll hide them away from Roy and all his grandsons.”

  “Is this going to embarrass me?”

  I frown. “What? No, why would it?”

  “I don’t know!” She throws her hands up. “Is it gonna hurt me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Will my body be altered in any way while inside this building?”

  “Are you asking if they’re gonna harvest your organs, like an alleyway setup in here?”

  “Yes.” She nods her head solemnly. “That’s what I’m asking you.”

  “Negative. I’ve been in this building a lot over the years. Still got all six of my kidneys.”

  “Six?” she shouts. “What?”

  “Roy had spares, so I figured why waste, ya know?”

  “You’re so weird,” she huffs. “Can I take my coffee in?”

  “Yes.” I take it from the cup holder and place it in her hand. Then because I’m thirsty as hell, I lean forward and steal a kiss until she relaxes and her pent-up breath comes out on a sigh. “We have a schedule to keep, you know? You’re throwing us off.”

  “Schedule?” she murmurs. Her eyes are closed, her pulse dances beneath the delicate skin of her throat. “What schedule?”

  “I only have a week to make you fall in love. There’s no time to waste. Come on.”

  I lean forward for one more kiss when her eyes pop open. Then I push out of my side of the car, only to skip to hers and open her door wide. The wind out here is mean, biting, especially on my exposed ears. But I suck it up, draw a heavy breath until it freezes my insides, then I let it out again and pull Cam from the car and throw my arm over her shoulders.

  Closing the door and beeping it locked, I slide the keys into my left pocket, rather than the right. If she’s going to continue to pickpocket, the least I can do is make it a little more challenging.

  “I’m gonna put my hand over your eyes now, okay? Don’t panic.”

  “How long?” She shakes underneath my arm.

  Cold or nerves?

  “Jamie, how long?”

  “Um…” I look to the back of the building. Then to her. “About thirty feet, and then a minute after that. Though your ears will probably give my surprise away anyway.”

  “My ears?”

  “Mm.” I place my hand over her eyes and begin walking. Dirt and gravel crunch under our shoes, but the best part might be how she wraps her arm around my body and holds on tight. “You’ll hear things inside that’ll give me away pretty quickly.”

  “Things like… chainsaws cutting through human flesh and bone?”

  “Yeah, those sounds.”

  Chuckling, I open the steel back door and lead her inside. Surprisingly, it’s quieter than I expected, less chaotic than I assumed.

  “We’re inside now. Can you smell that?”

  “Smell what?” she hisses. She’s on high alert. “Jamie, smell what?”

  “Rotting flesh, duh.”

  “Not funny.” She jabs her elbow into my ribs and makes me yelp. “Why do you want to hurt me?”

  “I don’t.” I lean against her, and press a kiss to the side of her head. “Nearly there. We’re gonna turn right in three, two…” I pull her around instead of saying ‘one,’ then I lead her past a smiling Sophia.

  Soph stands in her ballerina best: tights, a floaty skirt, her hair tied up in a bun at the top of her head. My sister stands ten feet in front of us wearing much the same as Soph, but she’s not smiling. Her eyes verge on dead, her shoulders slumped, because my dad is being a stubborn fool.

  For every minute he lets her believe his disappointment in her is greater than his love for her, another minute passes where she dies a little inside.

  But at least here, inside the Ellie Solomon Dance Academy, she can push that aside for a moment, and smile for the children.

  I wink for my sister, a feeble attempt to show her my support, like somehow, the guy that looks like her daddy is a good enough replacement, and though she nods back, it doesn’t do much good for the sadness in her eyes.

  “Jamie?” Cam’s voice cuts me away from Bean’s gaze. “Jamie, I’m gonna cut you up and bury you in the woods if you don’t—”

  I drop my hand away from her eyes, and instead cover her mouth. Because there are twelve toddler ballerinas on the stage beside my sister, and at least five of them have popped their heads up to hear the rest of what Cam has to say.

  Her eyes flare wide. Her voice cuts off on a squeak. Then the music begins, the baby ballerinas lift from their positions on the floor, and as soon as my sister leads them into their dance – rehearsal for a recital coming in just a week – I sit down in the front row, center, and pull Cam down beside me so she rests under my arm and lays her face on my shoulder.

  The song from the Moana soundtrack plays through the sound system, and on her toes, my sister leads the children through simple choreography that even three-year-olds can manage.

  “That’s your sister.” Cam’s voice shakes. “That’s like…” She squeaks. “She’s teaching the babies how to do it.”

  “She’s a good teacher,” I murmur.

  I study Bean with an eagle eye, chuckle when two of her dancers go rogue and bump into more little swans, then I hold Cam tight when Soph makes her way closer, and Cam damn near loses her mind.

  “Oh my god,” her breath comes out in fast pants. “Oh my god. Oh my shit.”

  “It’s just Soph,” I tease. “You spoke to her yesterday.”

  “She’s in pointe shoes!” Cam does the silent squeak thing. “Oh my god. It’s just…” Her voice cuts off on a yelp when Soph squeezes in front of our legs and sits down on Cam’s other side.

  “Hey. You doing okay?” Soph laughs under her breath. “You need a paper bag, or…?”

  “I’m just…” Cam literally fans her face. “Oh my god.
Meeting you at the gym was… wow. But meeting you while you’re wearing tights. It’s just…” She grits her teeth and squeaks. Gone is the badass I met. The smartass. The hardass. In her place is an excited little dancer with far too much energy and not enough music to dance it all away. “I think I’m gonna wet my pants.”

  “I’d prefer you didn’t,” Soph snickers. “These are expensive seats, and pee smells a bit gross if you’re not keeping up with your water intake. But listen, I have a favor to ask.”

  “Shut up!” Cam snaps. “A favor? You do not!”

  “Uh… no. You shut up.” Soph’s words are so serious, so matter-of-fact, that Cam snaps her jaw shut. “So, we have this recital coming up in less than a week. The babies will be putting on a show for their folks to pay fifty bucks a seat to watch.”

  “Sounds lucrative.”

  “It really is,” Soph laughs. “All the moms and dads love paying bunches of cash to watch their kids goof off on a stage. But here’s the thing, I have to head to the gym in a bit to help Smalls with some stuff, which means Bean’s gonna need a hand with the littles for an hour.”

  “Stop it!”

  “Uh… no. You stop it.”

  “You seriously want me to babysit the baby dancers?”

  “Not babysit.” Soph stands and takes Cam’s hands to pull her to her feet.

  I take the coffee Cam hasn’t touched since we got out of the car, set it on the seat beside mine, then I sit forward and grin as Soph sizes up my girl.

  My girl.

  “I have tights in stock that Jamie will happily reimburse me for.”

  Her eyes come to mine, so I nod. “Sure thing. She’s got my wallet anyway, so swipe the card when you’re ready.”

  Cam’s eyes flick to mine, then sheepishly, she tugs my wallet from her back pocket and hands it back to me.

  Soph watches our transaction with curious eyes, but shrugs it off. “We won’t have time to prep shoes for you, but you could grab a pair of the flats and wear those. Grab a leotard, lose the beanie. Or…” Soph tilts her head to the side. “Whatever. You don’t have to. It’s kinda sexy, so you do you, boo.” She turns away from Cam, then winds their arms together and begins walking away to leave me all alone in the front row. “We’ll be back in ten, Kincaid. Then you can pay me the fifty for the show you’re about to get.”