Page 70 of Scarred Crown

“I can shuffle.” She tosses the box aside.

“Do I want to let you shuffle? You still remember how to do all those card tricks from when we were kids?” Voting for honesty and then stacking the deck isn’t beneath her.

Her eyes light up and then a hint of a smile tugs at her lips. “I promise not to cheat.”

“You realize if you go on any winning streaks, I’ll suspect you.”

She searches my face for a moment, and then she leans forward and kisses me softly. “If you catch me cheating, you can exact any kind of revenge you want.”

“You’re dangling a carrot you never intend to give me. Catch you cheating? I could never figure out how you did half those card tricks. Suspect you’re cheating is a fairer deal.”

“If you’re not quick enough to catch me, you probably shouldn’t get any reward.” She drops the cards on the coffee table and then straddles me, resting her hands on my sides.

I brush the hair that’s tumbled across her cheeks behind her ears and stare into her eyes. “It is wrong that I already feel like I’ve won?” When we were younger, part of me wondered if it would be weird to be with Jules like this. I got one drunken kiss and then our friendship disintegrated. The fact that we’re already this good together is a prize in itself.

“You definitely know how to charm a girl.” Her voice is soft, and there’s no bite to the words.

Still, the implication I might say these things to any woman who’s in my hotel room in Vegas is so far off the mark I don’t even know where to start.

She reaches back and grabs the deck off the table and then presents it to me in the palm of her hand. “Draw a card?”

I slide one off the top and look at it. Ace. She’s screwed. But I can’t let my guard down. She might let me win a few before she turns the tide.

“Are you going to show me?” She tries to grab the card.

I chuckle and press it against my chest. “You draw yours and then we turn them at the same time.”

She plucks her card off the top and flips it around for me to see. Five.

I show her my ace.

“Of course.” She rolls her eyes. “You got any more aces shoved up your sleeves?”

“I’m wearing a T-shirt,” I say. “But if you’d like to search me, I’ll let you.”

She walks one of her hands underneath my shirt. “Tempting. Very, very tempting.”

“Are you ready for your question?” I ask.

“Technically that’s a question. If I answer yes, am I off the hook?”

I lean forward and nip at her earlobe. The cards tumble to the couch, and her hands slide into my hair, her head tipping back to expose her neck. I nibble a line down to her collarbone.

“You need to drink as punishment for being a smartass,” I say.

She chuckles but leans back and grabs the shot off the table, flicks it back like it’s nothing, and then sets it down. “Why Vegas?”

“I thought it was my question?”

“It’s like a proof of life question. Give me an honest answer, and I’ll take the game more seriously.”

“Far from Bellerive. Far from everything. There’s always something to do.” Superficial answers. She stares at me, unimpressed. That’s not going to satisfy her. “Some of my best memories happened here—mostly with Brice but once with my dad. We were on this diplomatic adventure around the US. I was in college, and he, I don’t know, let himself truly be my dad first for one night.” I shrug as though that memory isn’t sacred.

She gazes into my eyes for a beat and then she traces my hairline, thoughtful. “You pass the test,” she whispers before kissing me softly. She scoots forward, closing the space between us so her chest rubs against mine as she deepens the kiss.

When we break apart, she reaches back and grabs us both another drink and then surveys the tangle of cards on the cushion and floor while we take our shots.

I reach around her to refill the glasses.