Page 19 of The Wild Card


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She smiles tenderly at me. “Love ya, butthead.”

“Love ya, bird brains,” I say in response.

We say our goodbyes just as I see Nadia emerge from the washroom.

Just like that, my conversation with my sister is forgotten. One good look at Nadia and my balls go tight.

Now, she’s dressed in one of those sexy business outfits she looks so good in. Goddamn—she’s gorgeous.

Our eyes meet briefly and she looks away like she’s trying to avoid conversation. Too bad. Because without thinking, I hop up to my feet. “Hey, let me walk you out.”

She gives me a wary look then clears her throat. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to.” I paste on a medal-winning smile. But it doesn’t impress her.

She pauses and examines my face.

I keep smiling. Like a dimwit.

“Thank you for the offer, but my car’s parked right near the entrance,” she tells me. “I’ll be fine.”

At that moment, a toothless demon pops through an open doorway. The kid’s got his arms in the air and he’s shrieking as a sticky-faced girl with lopsided pigtails chases him down the hallway.

With my lightning fast pro-athlete reflexes, I loop an arm around Nadia’s waist and pull her into my side, out of harm’s way.

Her manicured fingers clutch the front of my sweatshirt as she watches after the kids with startled eyes.

She’s in my arms again. Mmm. She feels good. I’m starting to think she belongs here.

When her stare shifts back to me, I tilt my head to the side and smirk. “Again—can I walk you out?” I repeat.

With a long sigh and a resigned look, she gives in. “Fine.”

Biting back my smile, I dare to set a palm at the small of her back just long enough to steer her toward the exit. We stroll side by side through the halls of the community center, energetic little kids dodging around us.

The expression Nadia’s wearing tells me she’s not exactly elated to have me escorting her but she’s not particularly in the mood to argue with me, either.

I’ll take it.

“So, off to work?” I ask her.

“Yeah.” She nods, distractedly buttoning up the front of her tweed coat. “I’m running a bit late today since I had to come and make sure everything is set up for the seniors’ French class. But I’ll catch up by staying late at the office tonight.” She tugs a pair of brown leather gloves onto her dainty hands.

“Damn, that’s a shame.” Her gaze shifts to me and I grin. “I was planning on asking you to grab a drink with me later on.”

A cautious look slips over her face. I feel her put another inch between us as we stroll.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I press on, holding the door open for her and allowing a gust of cold wind to sweep into the building.

“Work,” she clips out, stepping out into the overcast morning and gingerly descending the concrete stairs into the open parking lot.

“And after?” I insist.

“I’ve got a few errands to run with my grandmother.”

“I’ll come with you,” I offer, zipping up the front of my hoodie. It’s cold as balls out here.

She gives me a pointed look. “You want to go underwear shopping with my Granny and me?” Shaking her head, she stares at me like I’m nothing but a big dork.

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