Fair Game (The Rules #1) (8 page)

Christ. I may as well just flush my cash down the toilet.

I find a candle store and go inside because hey, she likes candles. What woman doesn’t? My sister Victoria almost burned the house down when one of the curtains in her room caught fire, all from a lit candle that sat on a nearby table. She’d planned to seduce her boyfriend that night and lit up her entire room with a bunch of tiny votives, going for the romantic look.

Yeah. Talk about an epic fail.

The moment I enter the building, I’m assaulted by a variety of scents that makes my nose twitch. One of those table fountains that used to be so popular when I was a little kid sits near the door, the sound of running water pleasant if you like that sort of thing.

Which I guess I do. But my family always took it to the next level. I’ll see your tabletop fountain and create a rock wall water fountain that takes over the entire family room.

True story.

Slowly I move through the store, cracking a smile at the new age-y music playing in the background, the giant baskets set on a glass table at waist level, full of a variety of healing crystals. I’m starting to suspect this place is a front for a medical marijuana facility when I hear a voice ask if I need any help. A very familiar voice that makes my skin prickle and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Whirling around, my suspicions are confirmed.

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Jade mutters, her hands going immediately to her hips.

I grin at her. I can’t help it. This is a lucky streak for sure. “You work here?”

She’s wearing a red T-shirt that says Light My Fire across her chest—the name of the store—and there’s a nametag pinned to her shirt that reads Jade in swirling, feminine handwriting. “Don’t act like you don’t know this. Somehow with all your money and connections, you found out where I work. So creepy. Can’t you just leave this bet thing alone?”

“You think I hired someone to track you down?” Hell, I can’t work that fast. I’ve been sleeping pretty much the entire time since I saw her last and that was only last night.

“How else would you keep popping up where I am? You’ve crossed a line this time though, asshole.” She turns on her heel and starts heading toward the register counter at the back of the store. My gaze drops to her ass, which looks mighty fine in those khaki shorts she’s wearing. And her legs…damn they’re long. “I’m calling the cops.”

“What? No.” I chase after her, grabbing her arm before she can make a grab for the phone on the counter. “I’m not having you followed or whatever you’re accusing me of doing. This is total coincidence. I swear.” Awesome coincidence for me, not so much for her, I guess.

And really, why does she hate me so much? I don’t get it. Any other girl would be falling at my feet, begging me for something. Anything.

Not this one.

She tugs out of my hold and rubs her arm in the exact spot where I touched her. Trying to rub away those sparks? Because yeah, they’re there. My fingers are still tingling. “Please. This is the third day in a row. And I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Really?” I find that hard to believe. I know her boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, whatever she wants to call Joel the Wuss, has definitely gambled at our place before, which means at the very least, she had to have heard about me.

“God, you’re such an egotistical ass.” She waves her fingers at me, as if flicking away an annoying bug. “Get out of here. I’m serious. Before I really do call the cops.”

“But I came in here to buy something.”

She rolls her eyes and flicks her head. Today her hair is in some sort of bun thing on top of her head. She looks like a ballerina minus the tutu. It’s sort of a shame, all of that sexy red hair restrained like it is when it should be wild and free. I prefer it wild and free.

I’d also like to take her somewhere more private and slowly pull every pin out of her hair as it falls past her shoulders, piece by vibrant piece…

“What in the world would you want to buy here?”

“Uh, candles.” I glance around. “We’re surrounded by them, in case you haven’t noticed.”

She ignores my jab. “And who are you buying this candle for?”

“My mother. It’s her birthday in a few days.” I start walking down an aisle, scanning the various candles on display. There’s some nice ones I spot already, candles I know Mom will like but I’m not about to give up my hand too soon. I say I like something, next thing I know Jade’s wrapping it up, I’m signing the credit card receipt and then she’s ushering my ass straight out of here.

Nope. I’m going to savor this. Ask her questions. Make her show me different things before I finally,
finally
make my decision. She’s established this crazy relationship between us from the start.

I’m just trying to keep it afloat while I plot my way into her panties.

Great. I sound like a pervert even in my own head.

“You’re going to buy your mother a candle from Light My Fire for her birthday?” She sounds incredulous. Like I can blame her.

“I am,” I say determinedly, stopping in front of one display in particular. “What the hell is this? Black voodoo magic?”

There’s a hammered silver tray covered in shiny black and silver crystals, with three fat black candles clustered together in the middle. Mom would hate this sort of thing but I have to ask.

“Enid is into all that stuff. The crystals, how they heal and ward off evil spirits and the like.” Jade leans in closer to me, as if imparting a great secret. I catch her scent, sweet and clean and inhale discreetly, trying to keep it together. She is pure temptation and doesn’t have a clue. “I personally don’t believe in any of that but I play along.”

She’s being nice to me. I wonder what’s wrong. “Is this really a medical marijuana store?”

I blew it. Now she looks offended. “Ugh, no. This is a legit candle and crystal store. If you think we’re selling pot brownies in the back, then you’re sadly mistaken.”

Huh. Wonder if she’s ever tried a pot brownie. It might mellow her ass out when I can only figure she prefers being wound up, so I doubt it. “Sorry. My mistake. So…show me your best candle. Or why don’t you show me which one you like best.”

“You’re being serious.”

“As a heart attack.” I nod solemnly, shoving my hands in my pockets before I do something stupid.

Like grab her.

“Because you want to buy a candle.”

“Isn’t that what most people want to do when they come in here?”

She rolls her eyes. If she keeps that up every time she’s with me, she’s going to give herself a headache. “And you’re not following me.”

“I already told you this is all some weird coincidence.” Or fate. I’m not a huge believer in fate but what are the odds? It’s so wild, Jade fully believes I’m stalking her.

“Is everything okay?” A large woman almost as tall as me sweeps down the aisle, coming to a stop directly in front of us. She’s wearing a long black velvet dress dotted with clear rhinestones and flowing sleeves, her pitch black hair pulled back into a low ponytail. She looks like a stereotypical witch. “Jade, are you helping this darling young man?”

Ah, her boss. And an ally. I can sense it. “She’s trying her best,” I say, my voice filled with disappointment.

The look Jade shoots me is the deadliest stare she can muster, which is pretty damn deadly. “I know him,” she mutters.

“Doesn’t mean he should be treated poorly.” The woman makes a tsking noise and holds her hand out toward me, her long pointed nails a sparkly black. “I’m Enid. I own Light My Fire.”

“Shep.” I shake her hand, smiling at her. She smiles in return. Way more friendly than Bitch Face. “I like your store.”

Enid beams. “Thank you. Do you want me to show you around?”

Jade starts backing up, the smug smile on her face telling me she thinks she won.

“Ah, I appreciate the gesture but I’m sure you’re extremely busy, being the owner and all. And Jade’s not that bad. She just likes to give me grief.” I send an innocent smile in Jade’s direction and she gives me the finger. Lucky for her, she’s standing behind her boss who doesn’t even notice.

“Jade, treat this boy right. You hear me?” Enid turns to send Jade a pointed look.

“Of course,” Jade says through clenched teeth. “I’ll give him top notch treatment.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” I say with a wink.

H
e is insufferable. I always thought that word was ridiculous but now? It fits stupid insufferable Shepard Prescott to a T. How the hell did he find me here? I don’t know if I believe him when he says it’s a coincidence. I think he tracked me down. I should find that totally creepy. I should be calling the cops, filing a restraining order, whatever it takes to keep him away from me.

The problem is…I sort of enjoy our banter. The way he smiles at me, his dark, dark eyes full of unspoken promises. Promises I wouldn’t mind exploring. I like how he always seems to find everything amusing. Like life is just one big joke and he’s the only one in on the punch line.

Every time he touches me I feel a spark. A zip of heat just beneath the surface, rumbling under my skin. I tell myself to ignore it. Tell myself it means nothing.

He feels it too though. It’s in the way he pulls his hand away from me like I shocked him. It’s in that subtle smolder of his velvety gaze. He’s aware of it. Just like I’m aware of it.

Chemistry.

Beyond the chemistry bit, which could be totally fleeting, who knows, why would he want to find me? I’m not that special. He could have anyone he wanted. He’ll find out quick I’m a boring lay when he has adventure written all over him. I’m the girl who has performance anxiety. He’s the guy who probably revels in the performance. I’m the one who runs from it.

Clearly, he needs to move on and forget all about me.

“Come on,” I tell him wearily once Enid heads back to her office. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Sorry I’m such a drag,” he drawls, his deep, delicious voice wrapping all around me, making me feel warm. I tell myself to ignore it.

So I do.

I show him a variety of candles, all the while trying my best to deny the tension between us. Our arms brush against each other by accident and it’s like my skin’s been lit on fire. I catch him watching me and I feel my cheeks heat. And when he purposely touches me, his voice close to my ear as he grabs my arm, I want to sag into him. Feel his arm come around my waist, his other hand slip beneath my chin before he lifts my head up so our lips can meet…

“I’ll take this one,” he says firmly, handing me a giant three wick pure white candle. “I think my mother will like the scent.”

“But it’s white.” It’s a gardenia-scented candle, which I love but I always prefer a candle with a little color. White is boring.

“It’s perfect. Everything in their house is white,” he says. “It won’t disrupt her color scheme and trust me, that’ll make her happy.”

Ugh. I bet his parents live in a sterile mansion. I bet they have a ton of servants and the mother never has to leave the house or lift a finger. She probably sits on a pure white velvet couch and lounges with her white dog while eating white chocolate bon bons.

That sounds perfectly awful.

“Where do your parents live?” Okay fine I’m trying to find out information about him because I know next to nothing. And I’m just asking to be polite. That’s what good little sales associates do.

“East coast. Connecticut. In fact, I was wondering if your store ships?” He lifts his brows, his expression almost pleading.

I ignore his question. “You don’t have an accent.”

He lowers his brows into a frown. “Say what?”

“You’re from the east coast? I don’t detect an accent.”

“I went to boarding school for a few years. They beat any and all accents out of their students.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I moved around a lot. I’ve lived in Europe, Manhattan, Los Angeles, Miami…” His voice trails off. “My parents never like to stay in one place for too long.”

I grew up in the same house my entire life. The first time I moved is to come here for school. My hometown is two hours away and it still feels too far. I’m a total homebody, though I would never admit that to anyone. “We ship worldwide,” I tell him, choosing not to acknowledge what sounds like a glamorous—though lonely and unstable—childhood.