Page 4 of Castle's Cards

“Huh, you must be special, then.”

Once again, Addy ignores me, and I can’t help but find it endearing. Most women are all over me and it’s easy to charm their pants right off. She seems to want nothing to do with me. I love a challenge.

“Quit leering at me and behave yourself. Now, care to explain why you treat the poker table like a fight club?” Addy asks, pressing a cold pack against my cheek.

“Ow.” I take the ice pack from her, our hands brushing in the process. She pulls her hand away quickly. “I don’t treat it like a fight club. I just like things to be exciting. Don’t you like living on the edge?”

“Of what? My grave? No thanks. I’m good with being boring.”

Addy steps back, I’m assuming to admire her handiwork.

“I bet you’re anything but boring. Beautiful women rarely are.” I smirk. Addy frowns and rolls her eyes.

“The girls here talk about you, you know. You have a reputation. And I do not ever, under any circumstances, fool around with the boss – just so you know – particularly one old enough to be my father.”

“Hey, I’m notthatold. And just what is it the girls here say about me?”

Addy presses gentle fingers against my lip, swiping a balm across the crack there.

“They say you’re charming and that you leave a trail of broken hearts wherever you go. Apparently the trail is a very long one, too.”

“When I meet The One, that trail won’t matter.”

“How will you know when you meet The One if you treat all women the same?

“Who says I treat them all the same?”

“Every woman I’ve talked to has the same story about you: Flirt, dinner, sex, never call again.”

“I don’t appreciate the oversimplification of my romantic life. There’s much more to it than that.”

“Sure there is.”

“Let me take you out sometime and you’ll see.” I let my hand rest on her hip. “I know a great steak place downtown.”

Addy grabs my hand and drops it from where it was resting, but the hint of a smile plays on her lips.

“I don’t think fraternizing with the boss would go over very well with Cassie.”

“Fraternizing is my middle name.”

“Your parents must have hated you.”

She sighs but I can tell I’m making progress, chipping away at her icy exterior. Something about her feels familiar, like I’ve met her before.

“I was the favorite son.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course it is. Just don’t ask my brothers.” A real laugh escapes her this time. It’s warm and vibrant, filling the small space with joy. “What about you? I’m sure your parents loved you.”

“Hmm…I don’t think Tom and Rhonda Hughes had a favorite child.” A sad expression spreads across her face. There’s clearly a story there. What is it?

“Addy Hughes, huh. That’s your name?”

“Yeah, why?” Addy raises her brows.

My eyes roll over her body again, appraising and liking her tall and willowy figure. She notices me do so but doesn’t say anything.

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