Page 30 of Wild Card

“Guess I should know your name.” He stepped out, only to turn and brace himself against the door with his left arm, giving me a sexy smirk.

Damn him.

I blinked, hating the magnetic pull I felt to this man who wanted my stepsister. I took a step back from him, and then another. Why was he being all sexy and charming with me when he wanted to bang Taylor? Maybe it was in my head…stupid fucking hormones.

“Mallory Shaw. Nice to officially meet you, Decker James. Looks like we’re both big-ass liars.”

I slammed the door in his face.

Chapter Twelve

The sun was bouncingoff the aluminum napkin holders set up along each of the small tables inside the café. I looked around, taking in the shop. There was a glass case that doubled as a counter, and it was full of pastries. On the counter behind it was an espresso machine and a perky-looking high schooler making a latte.

I kicked my leg out in front of me, taking in the other side of the space. The checkered black and white tile started right as the laminate wood of the café stopped. Dark mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, with a myriad of spines and colors spread along the racks.

I was actually itching to go browse the selection and see what new books might be in. I was a closet book nerd, something I didn’t share with many people, but the second a new Sanderson or Rothfuss novel was available, I was front and center for a copy. It was something my dad had made me do at a young age. He had started my love for reading by taking me to the library during story time then letting me get lost in stacks too mature for my age, letting me read things that would keep me up far past my bedtime, always sneaking me a flashlight to read by.

The front door of the bakery opened, a soft bell jingling as it swayed shut. Mallory’s hair was the first thing I saw, its reddish brown coloring at odds with the golden sun snatching the highlights in her strands and broadcasting them to anyone who was watching. And I was watching. I couldn’t stop.

Her unruly hair was braided into a crown on top of her head, taming some of her raw features, making her seem demure…sweet. It didn’t fool me; I knew a tiger lay beneath her skin, something with teeth and claws. That beast didn’t even compare to the one I had discovered that night in Elias’s bedroom. The way she’d tugged at my hair and arched her back…the way she had cared that we stopped… I still didn’t know if it was just the rebuff from someone on the Devils or if she’d actually felt anything when I put my hands on her body, but there had been something there when I pulled away and she realized we wouldn’t go any further.

It was dangerous that I wanted to know. It was territory I needed to stay away from.

“Decker.” Mallory gave me a thin smile while sliding into the spot across from me.

I gave her a genuine grin, unable to hold back. I liked seeing her in the daylight…I liked seeing herperiod.

“I’ve never been here before. It’s a pretty cool place,” I said, gesturing toward the bookstore at her back.

She didn’t even turn to look, which made me curious about her reading habits. I liked girls who read. A silly, very stupid dream of mine was to wander around a bookstore, hand in the back pocket of the girl I was with, her nose in a book, her thumbs running over the ivory pages while I searched for a classic.

It was stupid.

“The bakery has amazing cinnamon rolls.” She flicked those green eyes at me and gave me a real smile. It was reserved, maybe even a regret …like it was something she hadn’t meant to give away.

“Can I order you one, maybe a coffee?” I asked, weirdly hopeful that she’d accept the offer.

“No, I ate before I came.” She didn’t look up.

“Okay…”

“Let’s get started.” Her eyes stayed on the notebook in front of her, little strands of reddish-brown hair kissing her neck.

“What do you want to know?” I moved my hands until they were under the table; otherwise I was going to brush those stray strands away, force her to look up, and let me see those eyes.

“So, the games…when did they start? And this is all on the record, by the way.” She looked up quickly with another tight smile.

“As far as we know, they’ve been going on for over fifty years, but there’s not really any proof of that. Just old letters and newspaper clippings—gossip and whatnot.”

“Okay, so how does it get passed to the next generation?” She pressed her pen to the corner of her mouth, and those green eyes locked on mine with such curiosity that I wanted to drag out my answer just to keep her looking at me like that.

“You saw underclassmen at the party, yes?”

She blinked and leaned forward. “Yes…so?”

“So, yeah. They deliver the cards, getting involved their first year, and then they participate their senior year and have already started the next graduating class on the game…and so it goes.” I waved my hand in a forward motion.

The smell of cinnamon rolls permeated the air, and suddenly my stomach was screaming at me to try one. From the way Mallory’s nostrils flared and those eyes roamed toward the glass case of goodies, I knew she wanted one too.

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