Page 58 of Wild Card


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“I’m about to kiss you, Jessa, but I need you to know something first.”

“Tell me.”

“This one doesn’t count.”

I brought my lips to hers before she could speak.

And just like that, I was lost forever.

I’d intended a gentle kiss, something tender and sweet, and for a brief moment, it was. Her soft mouth opened with disarming shock and aching shyness. But when our tongues met, the match was struck.

There was nothing tender about the way I breathed her in, a violent, hungry inhale so deep, it didn’t leave a millimeter between us. There was nothing simple about the way I drew her into my eager arms, crushing her into my chest. There was nothing gentle in the way our reckless tongues sought the depths of each other, hunting the source of this feeling—what she did to me, what I did to her. It lived somewhere in us. And like a fool, I’d let it out.

There’d be no putting it back.

Awareness came back to me at the same rate the kiss slowed. I enjoyed the heat of her mouth for a moment longer, basking in the way her body clung to mine, her arms a vise around my neck. I realized distantly I was holding all her weight, and with a great and terrible sense of loss, I set her feet back on the ground and broke the kiss.

Her eyes opened, though her lids were heavy, her lips swollen and red as she looked up at me, dazed. The smudges of pink on her cheeks were so pretty, I cupped her face to thumb one.

The corners of her lips lifted just a touch.

“Think they bought it?” she asked, her voice rough.

“I dunno. Should we try it again for good measure?”

Her laughter filled me up, bottom to top.

I glanced at the bar, my smile falling when I realized that near two dozen of our friends and family were staring at us with their jaws on the floor, scraping sawdust and peanut shells.

To my fucking delight, Henry was livid.

To my dismay, my cousin was about to have an aneurism.

“Uh-oh.”

Jessa turned to the crowd, her mouth stretching into a soft O to match her wide eyes when she saw what we’d done.

Cass marched toward us with murder on her face, scary enough that Jessa backed up until she was leaning into my chest. When she reached us, Cass sucked in a breath like the Big Bad Wolf, but before she could blow us down, Jessa put out her hand.

“Shhh, don’t be mad! Look—it’s just to make Henry jealous!”

Cass blinked so many times, I wondered if she was swearing me out in Morse code. After a second, she grabbed Jessa by the arm and dragged her toward the ladies’ room, leaving me standing stupidly in front of the crowd.

So I did what anybody’d do—I threw on my cockiest smile and sauntered up to the bar, cutting in next to Hank and Annie.

“Heya, Leo—get me a whiskey, neat.”

Leo nodded, smiling like a son of a bitch.

I turned, still leaning on the bar, to face Henry.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked through his teeth.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Hank.” I picked up my drink and raised it in Leo’s direction before knocking the whole thing back.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” he started, standing, nearly dumping Annie on her ass when he did, “but you need to stay away from her.”

I sucked my teeth and set the glass on the bar. “Why? Are you afraid I’ll hurt her?”

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