Читать онлайн книгу «Her Sexy Vegas Cowboy» автора Ali Olson

Her Sexy Vegas Cowboy
Ali Olson
Sin in a Stetson…For most women, going to a friend's bachelorette party in Vegas is the ultimate gals' weekend. Jessica Gainey is not most women. An introverted worrywart, Sunset Strip is not her idea of a good time. But, it's rodeo weekend, and the town is crawling with seriously hot cowboys…none more wickedly sexy than Aaron Weathers.He's Texas. She's New York. Still, Jessica can't stop fantasizing about that ripped cowboy bod. So for one weekend, she throws caution to the wind to be a wild and daring version of herself before returning to a life where men can't be trusted and love is a four-letter word. Except that in Vegas, even the greatest odds can have unbelievable—and thoroughly satisfying—payouts!


Sin in a Stetson...
For most women, going to a friend’s bachelorette party in Vegas is the ultimate gals’ weekend. Jessica Gainey is not most women. She’s an introverted worrywart, and the Sunset Strip is not her idea of a good time. But it’s rodeo weekend, and the town is crawling with seriously hot cowboys...none more wickedly sexy than Aaron Weathers.
He’s Texas. She’s New York. Still, Jessica can’t stop fantasizing about that ripped cowboy bod. So for one weekend, she throws caution to the wind to be a wild and daring version of herself before returning to a life where men can’t be trusted and love is a four-letter word. Except that in Vegas, even the greatest odds can have unbelievable—and thoroughly satisfying—payouts!
Jessica kissed Aaron, deeply and hungrily.
Her skin was so sensitive that every movement caused tremors of excitement to flow through her. She could feel that his body was rock hard against her.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, but as she began to pull away to exit, the arm wrapped around her waist tightened and held her against him, her feet hovering above the floor, his lips still on her. He had lifted her enough so he could kiss along her jawline and her neck, and stepped off the elevator with her in his arms, making her feel as though tiny explosions were going off in her brain.
“What room?” he growled into her neck, letting loose waves of electricity in the spots warmed by his breath.
A tingle went down her spine as she heard the complete abandon in his voice.
He wasn’t in control of himself, and she had the feeling it wasn’t something that happened to him very often.
And, oh, she liked it...
Dear Reader (#ulink_327f19eb-fa93-539f-a222-d9b9654bd07d),
This book was a work of pure enjoyment for me. I never thought I’d actually write a book, but after living in Vegas for so many years, the idea of writing about this unique city and the people who travel here became an itch I finally decided to scratch. As a local, the tourism of Las Vegas is a wonderful opportunity for people watching and story invention, and I constantly find myself wondering about the backgrounds and futures of the people who breeze in and out for a few days of fun.
Writing about the rodeo in particular seemed like the perfect topic, with the annual influx of attractive cowboys. On our nightly walks during that unique week, my husband and I found ourselves passing hundreds of cowboys, and I couldn’t help but create stories about what they would do while visiting Sin City, and who they might meet along the way. The seed of an idea was born. It was an exciting moment, the first day I sat down with my laptop and began Her Sexy Vegas Cowboy.
I hope you enjoy reading about Aaron and Jessica. I loved writing about them, and about this wonderful city that so few have the opportunity to truly explore.
Cheers,
Ali Olson
Her Sexy Vegas Cowboy
Ali Olson


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ALI OLSON is a longtime resident of Las Vegas, Nevada, where she has been teaching English at the high school and college level for the past seven years. Ali has found a passion for writing sexy romance novels, both contemporary and historical, and is enthusiastic about her newly discovered career. She loves reading, writing and traveling with her husband and constant companion, Joe. She appreciates hearing from readers. Write to her at authoraliolson.com (http://authoraliolson.com/).
To get the inside scoop on Harlequin Blaze and its talented writers, be sure to check out BlazeAuthors.com (http://www.blazeauthors.com).
All backlist available in ebook format.
For Mary, who has been my biggest fan as long as I can remember and supported me in every endeavor. Thank you for always believing so strongly in my abilities.
And Joe, thank you for always being so sure I was a brilliant writer and would be successful. Life with you is the best adventure.
Contents
Cover (#u2bd6cfc9-9624-5a6d-86f8-3c21aa46d6b5)
Back Cover Text (#u78d68eb6-1232-5059-b13c-02c361969e4b)
Introduction (#u3aa17a8f-1b18-5457-9105-3bf7142eeda7)
Dear Reader (#ulink_a0375ec5-204e-5688-848d-ab7fbd6e3171)
Title Page (#uef93c65e-cd4c-58a5-ac67-4edfdde17963)
About the Author (#ude2f1e84-843e-5540-aab8-5d29ac22fe3f)
Dedication (#u322b2410-1878-51e3-a2fd-0990ac96ea86)
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Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
1 (#ulink_5fff2bf3-29d2-5701-ad2e-b6f00b351ae3)
JESSICA GAINEY LEANED against the window of the airplane, watching the ground as they slowly descended into Las Vegas. She’d been to the city before, but had never flown over it at night, when Vegas was a bright spot of lights and civilization surrounded on all sides by a sea of blackness. On every side, the desert hemmed in the oasis of streetlights and hotels.
Along the famous Strip, Las Vegas Boulevard, she recognized some of the big casinos and icons like the Stratosphere and Luxor pyramid with its bright light shooting up into space and wondered at the changes in the constantly shifting city. There was a huge Ferris wheel lit up in bright colors. Since when did Vegas have a Ferris wheel?
As she continued to soak up the sight of the bright city, the plane touched down at McCarran Airport, which seemed to be right in the middle of it all. She settled back into her seat for the slow taxi to the terminal, closing her eyes and enjoying the last few moments before the insanity would begin.
The flight had been relatively quiet, since she’d purchased a coach ticket despite Cindy’s willingness to pay the extra costs so she could sit in first class with the rest of the party. It had actually been a perfect time for her to get a little work done before the long weekend, which she was fairly sure would include out-of-control partying by the large group of former sorority sisters currently sitting together in the front of the plane. She was already exhausted at the idea and nothing had happened yet.
She pushed her worries away, turned on her phone’s Wi-Fi, and quickly scanned her emails and texts. She knew there would be no messages from Russ, but she still hadn’t broken the habit of looking for them. When they were together, he’d always write little love notes to her while she was flying, making her phone ping with joy when she turned it on after landing. It had been such a sweet gesture and she hadn’t flown enough since then to adjust to its absence.
Those messages had caused the ending of their relationship, but she definitely didn’t want to think about that. She’d spent enough time in the past few months reliving the moment when she opened his phone to see the exact wording of a recent text from Russ that she’d accidentally deleted, only to find messages to other women alongside hers.
Jessica breathed in deeply and tried to let go of those negative thoughts, but the memories of that day were still impossible to banish completely. The best she could do was ignore them and focus on more important things. The texts on her phone were all from her family now.
Her mom saying, “Your dad will be fine. Have fun!”
Her sister telling her, “Relax. I know you freak out. Don’t freak out.”
And finally one from her father. “Love you, Jess. Do something crazy for a change!”
As if that would happen.
She’d told herself to relax, make this a fun weekend, hundreds of times throughout the flight, but nothing would ever completely stop her anxiety. She always felt as though disaster would occur the minute she left the state.
This weekend was for Cindy, not her, and Cindy had done enough for her that she wasn’t about to ruin this trip with all her negative thoughts. If Cindy hadn’t taken her in and given her a place to stay, who knew where she would have lived the past three months? So here she was, in Las Vegas for her best friend’s party, and she would try to enjoy it even if it killed her.
When the seat belt light turned off, Jessica grabbed her purse from beneath the seat, shoved herself into the crush of passengers waiting to get off and pulled down her carry-on bag. She could pretend to be a party girl for a few days and take a break from real life. She’d try, at least.
In the terminal, it was easy to find Cindy, since she was the only one surrounded by a small crowd of women in their midtwenties, all of whom were giggling like teenagers as they plastered Cindy with bachelorette paraphernalia, including a plastic tiara and a sash, all pink and covered in rhinestones.
Cindy smiled and struck a pose, the rhinestones catching the light. “How do I look?”
Jessica gave her a quick appraisal. “It’s bachelorette-party chic, all right. You look like a woman who’s going to be given a lot of free drinks.”
Cindy looked ecstatic. “Perfect! Then let’s get going!”
One woman in the party, a raven-haired beauty whose name Jessica couldn’t for the life of her remember, piped up. “Before we hit baggage claim, I want to stop at the bathroom and fix my makeup. I’m sure I look awful.”
As the other women assured their friend that she was beautiful and started to search out a bathroom, Jessica looked over the group. They all looked ready for a night on the town in their high heels and makeup and styled hair, still perfectly coiffed even after the long flight. She tugged at her long unruly hair, hoping it looked more or less acceptable. She thought of herself as decently pretty, but compared to them, she probably did look awful.
Jessica had known she would be an outsider as the only nonsorority sister there. She had hoped college was far enough in the past to make the difference less noticeable, but it was just as pronounced as it had ever been back then. She joined them, trying to make herself feel a part of this group.
The women trooped into the bathroom, but Cindy walked up to Jessica and wrapped an arm around her friend. “Thanks again for coming this weekend.”
“It’ll be fun.”
Cindy snorted. “You’re away from your family with a bunch of my sorority sisters in Las Vegas, where we’ll be going to bars and clubs way past your bedtime. I think I know you well enough to say that this isn’t your idea of fun. But thanks for coming anyway.”
Jessica couldn’t help smiling at that. Cindy knew her too well. “You make me sound like a grandma.”
“Not a grandma, just a slightly agoraphobic, introverted worrywart.”
“Because that’s so much better?”
“Try to enjoy this weekend a little bit is all I’m saying.”
Jessica looked at her friend, properly decorated for her weekend of debauchery, giving her begging eyes. Jessica did not want to be the reason Cindy wasn’t happy on her big weekend. “I’ll have fun, I promise. We’re celebrating your wedding, after all. You only have two weeks left of the single life, so we better make the most of it.”
“Thirteen days, seventeen hours and ten minutes, but who’s counting?” Cindy said, grinning.
Jessica was happy her friend had found the love of her life. She really was. But that didn’t stop her from feeling a twinge of jealousy. She wasn’t anywhere close to that, and nothing made that stand out starker than her best friend’s bliss.
The group reassembled and turned toward baggage claim, making their way through the maze of the airport. Jessica followed along, wheeling her small bag behind her, falling to the back of the crowd as they all chatted. For a few minutes, she tried to remember the names Cindy had thrown at her before they left.
“We have got the best weekend planned for you, Cindy. Just you wait!” gushed a gorgeous brunette. Alexis, probably. Jessica was pretty sure Cindy had mentioned an Alexis.
“It’s going to be way better than that time we went to DC. There’s no rain in Vegas,” another woman said, and the rest agreed.
Jessica didn’t know that woman’s name, either, but she thought Cindy had told her something about her being in pageants. Miss New York and crazy titles like that. She was beautiful enough for it to be believable. In fact, they were all beautiful. What was the deal with that?
While she let her mind wander, the topic had drifted to their adventures in DC. Jessica didn’t have any idea when that had happened. It must’ve been at some point during college, when she and Cindy drifted apart for a while. Cindy had done the sorority thing and the friends thing. Jessica had done the study and work-menial-jobs thing.
It struck Jessica that she and Cindy had led very different lives for quite a long time, and their circles of friends were incredibly different. Cindy was surrounded by laughing beautiful women who loved her. Jessica had Cindy, a few acquaintances and her family. Who on earth would be invited to her bachelorette party?
Not that she was anywhere close to getting married, and even if she was, she doubted she’d even have a party. Not her style. Still, the answer to that question was rather depressing. She tried to focus on anything else as she tagged along with the group.
People-watching was always something she enjoyed, inventing stories for the various individuals as they passed in and out of her life. It was a good way to quiet unpleasant thoughts. Jessica concentrated her attention on the groups of people arriving from around the country to spend a few days in this crazy city, wondering what their stories were.
As they walked through the airport, Jessica began to notice something odd. Not the people sitting at slot machines—though those were unusual for any other airport, they only seemed fitting here. No, this was something she’d never expected to see in Sin City: there were cowboys. Like, a lot of them.
Had Vegas turned in its strip clubs and casinos for ranches and horses or something?
She sped up slightly so she could catch up to the brunette—the others called her Anna, not Alexis. “Do you know why it looks like we’re on the film set of a spaghetti Western?”
“Oh yeah, there’s supposed to be a rodeo in town. I saw it on the hotel websites. Apparently it’s this big deal, like the World Series of Rodeos or something,” Anna responded.
Jessica allowed herself to drift to the back of the group again. A rodeo in Vegas. What a strange concept.
As she walked, she continued to stare at the mob of cowboys. She just couldn’t help herself—it was such an odd sight. Then her eyes landed on a muscled, sun-browned man with blond hair falling into his incredibly blue eyes. He was putting on his own cowboy hat as he left the gate of his just-arrived airplane only a few feet away from her. Jessica couldn’t help staring at him, the epitome of strength and ruggedness.
He really did seem as if he should be in a Western film. He was more than just attractive; he was swoon-worthy, knight-in-shining-armor hot.
Then he looked right at her and their eyes locked. She’d been caught red-handed, practically drooling over him. She froze like a deer in headlights.
The glance lasted only a couple of seconds, but Jessica would have sworn it was far longer. The thrill of heat that rushed through her as the stranger met her eyes made her heart miss a beat—and the heel of her shoe slip sideways.
Her attention rudely brought back to reality, she wobbled uncertainly for a moment, but managed to regain her balance instead of falling over completely. Her slightly twisted ankle sent a small jab of pain up her leg as she stepped down, angry at her inattention. She stepped on it more gingerly, glad her loose hair had fallen in front of her face and hidden the blush that came from realizing she’d been caught gawking at this stranger, and then nearly fallen over to top it all off.
“Are you okay?”
She looked up, praying it wasn’t the handsome cowboy who had asked.
Of course, it was the handsome cowboy. And now he was even closer, practically touching her, with a smirk of amusement on his face. This couldn’t get any worse. Adrenaline pumped through her, making her skin prickle—or maybe that was just her reaction to the man standing in front of her, his eyes burning into hers.
Then his smile widened, as if she had made some sort of joke. Or been the butt of a joke. It was probably the latter, since nothing seemed amusing about this situation.
He raised his eyebrows. “So, you’re okay?”
He’d been waiting for her to answer. And instead she had stared at him like an idiot. If the power to become invisible could be summoned through wishes, she would have disappeared.
She was still very much visible, though. Jessica looked down at her feet, hoping he thought she was examining her ankle, but mostly to keep herself from losing herself in his eyes again. “I’m fine,” she squeaked, her voice an entire octave above normal.
Well, it was better than absolute silence, at any rate.
The rumble of his laughter rolled through her. “How about I give you a ride to your hotel? Save you the taxi fare.”
Part of Jessica—the pit of her stomach and her tingling fingers—wanted to take the sexy cowboy’s offer, but most of her only wanted to get away as quickly as she could. She looked up and realized that Cindy and the rest of the women were far ahead. Apparently none of them had nearly fallen all over themselves over any attractive cowboys. “I’m with a group. In fact, I should go catch up to them.”
Before she could move away, though, he pulled a pen and a thick book out of the pocket of his bag, took a torn piece of paper out of it that he was clearly using for a bookmark and started writing on it. “Well, if you find yourself with some free time this weekend, call me. We can have dinner.”
She said the only coherent thing her brain could muster. “That was your bookmark.”
He handed it to her, smiling. “Yep. Lost my place. Worth it if you call.”
Jessica was having difficulty breathing. If she didn’t get away from this man immediately, she might jump on him right there and make a scene for the entire airport. She shoved the paper into her pants pocket, mostly to keep herself from opening it to check that there was, in fact, a phone number written on it.
Without looking at him again, she turned to search for her glittery mob of women, purposely keeping her eyes averted. His eyes were still on her, though—she could feel them boring into her. Her group, far ahead, was still walking toward the exit. They hadn’t seemed to notice her disappearance. A quickly mumbled “Thanks” was all she could manage, along with one last peek into his eyes, which were still focused on her.
Adjusting her grip on her suitcase handle, she rushed to catch up to Cindy and her friends, limping slightly. She did not turn to look at the stranger again, though a part of her wanted to get just one more glance before he disappeared from her life, if only to make sure he was as handsome as she thought. A picture of him would be nice. Maybe a kiss, too.
Jessica was shocked at the thoughts that were running through her head. It had been some time since she was with a man—she hadn’t dated at all since Russ—and this was the first time she felt anything close to desire in three months. And it had knocked her flat. She could picture the cowboy’s eyes looking back at her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist...
She shook her head slightly, trying to get back under control. She would never see him again, so there was no point fantasizing about him. There was absolutely no way she would be meeting a stranger for dinner, even if he was incredibly handsome and had a voice that sent shivers snaking down her spine.
If her crazy attraction toward this stranger was any indication of how she would be feeling over the weekend, it was going to be worse than she thought. Drooling over strippers and then going back to a lonely hotel room didn’t exactly sound appealing.
She finally managed to make it to the rest of the group. Cindy caught her eye and dropped back until she was walking beside Jessica.
“What happened? I was about to send out search parties. Did you get trapped in a sea of cowboys?” she asked, gesturing toward a nearby bunch of men, all of whom fit the description.
She wasn’t that far off.
Jessica said, “I stepped wrong and twisted my ankle. I’m all right,” she added quickly, seeing that Cindy was about to take on a mother-hen role, “but I did kind of have a little encounter with a hot guy.”
Cindy’s expression turned from worried caregiver to giggly teenager in two seconds flat. “Seriously? That’s awesome! Did he catch you as you fell, and then you shared a kiss before you rushed off into the crowd, leaving him brokenhearted?”
That sounded way better than what had actually happened. “You watch way too many movies. He just asked if I was okay.”
Cindy’s face fell a little. Jessica couldn’t let her friend look so disappointed. “And then he gave me his phone number.”
Cindy stopped dead in her tracks. “Are you kidding? That’s amazing!”
Jessica could hear the emphasis of the last word. Cindy would probably have written it with five exclamation points. And all of the exclamation points would have little hearts instead of dots. Jessica laughed.
Cindy put a hand on her hip. “I’ve been telling you to go out on a date for weeks now. Here’s your chance! And by date, I absolutely mean crazy sex with a random stranger. We’re in Vegas, after all.”
Jessica tugged at her friend’s sleeve, trying to catch up with Cindy’s friends. The other women had just turned a corner, and getting lost in the airport would be a less-than-perfect start to this weekend. “I’m not going to call him, Cindy.”
Cindy started walking but kept her eyes firmly fixed on Jessica. “Why not? You have to follow up on this.”
“With the stranger who I met for two seconds in an airport in Vegas? That doesn’t sound like the start of a lasting relationship.”
Cindy was unperturbed. “Who said anything about a lasting relationship? I just want you to hook up with this guy. You are totally allowed to bail on my bachelorette party if you’re hooking up with a guy.”
Jessica held up a finger. “One—you’re just all excited about this because you’re happy and in love and therefore like to set people up.” She put up a second finger. “And two—this is exactly the kind of situation where the girl ends up going out on a date with a murderer and her friends all say, ‘It was so unlike her to go out with total strangers, but we convinced her it would be a good idea and now she’s dead.’ No, thank you.”
Cindy raised one eyebrow, giving her friend her patented “I’m not convinced” look before rolling her eyes. “Fine, come up with all the excuses you want about why you won’t call him. You liked what you saw and that terrified you. I get it.”
Cindy stopped and crossed her arms, as if waiting for Jessica to take the bait. Jessica knew her friend wanted her to argue with her, but she also had been around Cindy long enough that she didn’t need to rise to the occasion and defend her actions. Especially because what she said was probably true.
Jessica shrugged and kept walking, and Cindy had no choice but to keep up.
Together they found the baggage claim area. Everyone but Jessica had brought giant suitcases that needed to be picked up. As they stepped off the last escalator, Jessica spotted a man in a suit with a driver’s hat holding a sign that read Mrs. Cynthia Frederickson. She elbowed Cindy. “Looks like you have a chauffeur, Mrs. Frederickson.”
Cindy squealed in delight at seeing her future married name. “This is so much fun! I need to have a bachelorette party at least once a year from now on.”
Jessica shook her head as Cindy ran over to the man, bewildering him with her enthusiasm. Cindy was unlike anyone else Jessica had ever met, and she loved her for it.
The group of women followed in Cindy’s wake, and once again Jessica found herself trailing behind. The chauffer gathered their luggage—no easy feat, since all the bags were giant and seemed very heavy—and led the women outside to the largest and most garish limo Jessica had ever seen. It was basically a very long SUV with flashing LED lights all over it.
The women around her laughed and screeched with pleasure. “I love this city!” Cindy cried in delight.
Miss New York started singing “Viva Las Vegas” and a few others joined in as they hauled themselves up the steps into the back of the outrageous vehicle. Jessica had to laugh at how ridiculous it all was. Normally she would roll her eyes if she saw that monstrosity rolling down the street—and probably make some comment about consumerism or the environment—but for this moment, this weekend, she was just going to go with it.
She ducked into the dark, laughter-filled limo. She was in Las Vegas and was getting on board, both literally and metaphorically.
* * *
AARON WEATHERS HEADED toward the private car he’d arranged weeks in advance. Normally it would seem silly to get a private car for a five-minute drive, but he’d learned long ago that the expense was worth it if it meant he didn’t have to wait in the soul-crushing taxi line at the airport.
This time, however, he lingered an extra few seconds before getting in, taking one last look while his friend Jeremiah walked around and got in the other side. Maybe he could get another glimpse of the girl from the terminal before he left.
Unfortunately there was a gargantuan SUV limo in the way of the baggage claim area, so he couldn’t see much. As it took off, he ducked into the backseat of the town car.
It had been quick, a couple of minutes at the most, that they had stood together, and he wanted to see her again, even if just for a second to make sure she was real. It had been the strangest thing. He’d turned his head and there she was, staring at him with deep green eyes that hooked him somehow. He’d been close enough to see the flecks of gold in them. Her long flowing hair, dark red and curling lightly at the edges, made his fingers ache to slide through it.
Aaron had liked everything about her. The eyes, the hair, the small dusting of freckles, her height. She was taller than most of the men around her, even in her low-heeled boots. Which weren’t quite low enough, he thought with a smile.
The moment she had started to fall, he instinctively jumped forward. She had caught herself in time, but if she had actually fallen, he would have been there to save her. In a way, he regretted that it was unnecessary because then perhaps she would feel more reason to call the stranger who had given her his number.
She had left so quickly the story felt incomplete. He had no way of contacting her. He half wished he had run after her, tried to get her name and number, but that seemed like the move a crazy person would make, which wasn’t exactly the impression he wanted to leave on her. If there was any possibility she might call, chasing her down would most likely be a deal-breaker. Besides, he couldn’t ditch Jeremiah like that.
He wished he’d gotten her name, though.
She intrigued him, and he wanted to see her again. If she didn’t get in touch, what chance would he ever have of finding her again? Based on her clothes and the heavy jacket slung over her arm, it was apparent she came from some cold city and he highly doubted she was in town for the rodeo.
What if he never saw her again, and that was all there was to it?
2 (#ulink_96ac28f4-09e0-5bf7-87d0-2f9b4a8aec73)
AARON LEANED BACK against the supple leather of his seat and pictured the woman from the airport, imagining her walking toward him and giving him a sexy smile. She hadn’t given him one, but he knew it was there, hiding, waiting for the right moment. He only pulled out of his reverie when he noticed Jeremiah leaning against the car door and staring at him, his arms crossed.
“What are you thinking about? Did you hear anything I was saying?”
Aaron had been so absorbed in his fantasy he hadn’t even realized his friend was talking. After a pause, he admitted, “I—was thinking about this woman I just met in the airport.”
“You met a girl? Already? Where was I?”
“It was when we were leaving the gate, so I’m guessing you were still flirting with the flight attendant.”
Jeremiah nodded his agreement. “I love flight attendants.”
“You have never managed to get one to go out with you. Not once. You know that, right?”
Jeremiah shrugged. “Well, sure, but if I keep trying, one of them is bound to think I’m adorable one of these days.”
Jeremiah linked his fingers behind his head and leaned back, completely content in his failure. Even after being friends for pretty much their entire lives, Jeremiah’s tenacity and good humor never ceased to amaze Aaron.
After a few seconds of quiet reverie, Jeremiah turned his attention back to Aaron. “So, this girl you met. Hot?”
Aaron nodded. That didn’t even begin to describe her.
“Did you set something up with her? Get her name and number?”
If only.
“I managed to give her mine before she took off, but I didn’t get hers. I don’t think she’ll call, though.”
Jeremiah shrugged again. “If she calls, great. If she doesn’t, no big loss.”
He was always so accepting of any situation, Aaron never quite knew if it was admirable or annoying.
Jeremiah continued, “We’ve been in Vegas for ten minutes and you already found a girl, and she definitely won’t be the only beautiful lady you see this weekend. We’ll find some chicks that make her look like Mrs. Jessup in comparison, no matter how pretty she was.”
Aaron seriously doubted that, but he didn’t attempt to explain it. He vividly remembered Mrs. Jessup, their seventh grade teacher, and the woman in the airport would never look anything like that, no matter what supermodel she was standing next to.
He couldn’t describe how he felt to his friend, but it wasn’t just that the woman from the airport was attractive. She was, but that wasn’t all there was to this—this whatever it was. He’d seen plenty of beautiful women in his life, but none of them had struck him the way she did. None of them made his blood light on fire just by looking at him. There was something about the way she carried herself, something about the discerning look in her eyes.
There was no way to say any of that to Jeremiah, and it didn’t matter, anyway. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do to make her call him. She had run away so quickly after he gave her his number, and now the moment and the woman had disappeared. Normally he would’ve been more eloquent, more convincing, but she had made it hard to think straight.
He tried to shift his thinking to focus on the rodeo and the other women he’d meet. He even tried to picture Olivia, who he’d met up with every year and was expecting to see at the big team roping event on Saturday. She was an amazing blonde, voluptuous in all the right places and always willing to spend an evening at his side. But his thoughts kept straying back to the woman from the airport.
The car slid through the airport traffic, passing by the rodeo venue on its way to the hotel. The entire thing was covered in banners with pictures of horses and National Finals Rodeo written everywhere in huge letters. Jeremiah bounced in his seat. “Man, I love rodeo weekend!”
Aaron chuckled. “I know. You’ve said that about thirty times since we left this morning.”
“But it’s true! The NFR is awesome. Great events, Vegas, beautiful women everywhere and this year, my team is going to kill it. But mostly the women.”
They arrived at the hotel before the two men had even sunk fully into the plush leather seats. They were staying at the Hard Rock Hotel, a mile or so from the airport and within walking distance of the rodeo venue, making it the perfect location.
As taxis full of cowboys headed toward Las Vegas Boulevard, Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “Why does anyone stay on the Strip?”
When Aaron and Jeremiah went to the NFR years ago for the first time as single adults without supervision, they’d stayed in the Bellagio, a grandiose affair, thinking it would put them in the middle of the party. They’d realized quickly that it just put them in the middle of Las Vegas Boulevard traffic. The surroundings didn’t make up for the inconvenient distance they had to travel each day, which had to be driven through at a crawl.
They grabbed their bags and walked into the darkened casino.
Hard Rock, though off-Strip, was still iconic and interesting enough for Aaron’s taste, and he’d found the suites to be perfectly satisfying, to put it mildly. Walking the short distance with his arm wrapped around a woman’s waist and leading her into his room never went wrong.
He couldn’t help wondering, though, if the woman he’d seen would be in one of the big hotels on the Strip, and that maybe he should’ve gotten a room there instead. If she didn’t call, at least there would still be a possibility he could spot her again walking through one of the casinos.
Practically rolling his eyes at his own thoughts, he gave himself a mental shake. It was time to stop focusing on this one woman. If she called, she called. He couldn’t let something as little as a chance meeting of eyes disrupt his entire weekend, even if picturing her sent a strange new thrill through his chest...and elsewhere.
Aaron promised himself he wouldn’t think of her again for the rest of the weekend.
They entered the casino and dodged through tourists and gamblers until they stood in front of the reception desk, where a pretty, young hotel clerk waved them over. Jeremiah leaned in, whispering frantically before they got within earshot of her, “You already got a girl. This one’s mine.”
Aaron had absolutely no problem with that. Jeremiah was usually the one going for strange women he had zero chance with, not Aaron. Once in a day was enough for him.
Jeremiah rested his arms on the counter, taking up all the space available, leaving Aaron standing behind him, glad to have a good view of what he was sure would be quite the interaction. Jeremiah leaned in slightly toward the clerk, and Aaron could tell he was trying to read her name tag. “Hi, Lucy. How are you on this beautiful evening?”
The woman gave him a polite smile. “Fine, sir. What name is the reservation under?”
“Aaron Weathers,” Aaron called over Jeremiah’s shoulder.
As usual, he’d reserved both his and Jeremiah’s rooms, since his friend hated the idea of paying for a luxury suite and had tried a few times to get them some basic rooms to cut down on costs. Aaron’s ranch was working smoothly, his inheritance was well invested and dropping a couple grand on some hotel rooms was worth it if it could give them an amazing weekend.
As the woman typed in the information, Jeremiah tilted his head toward Aaron. “That’s my friend. I’m Jeremiah. We’re here for the rodeo. Have you ever been to the rodeo?”
“No, sir, I haven’t. Mr. Weathers, we have you two down for a suite, is that correct?”
Jeremiah jumped in quickly. “Suites, with an S. Two separate suites. We won’t be staying together.”
Aaron stepped up and slapped his friend on the back. “I think she gets it, Jeremiah,” he said as he handed the woman his ID and credit card.
As they left the counter with the key cards, Aaron studied the indomitable Jeremiah. He seemed just as happy as ever, despite being completely dismissed by the pretty clerk. Aaron wondered for the first time if Jeremiah purposely flirted with women he couldn’t possibly get.
It was an interesting thought, but he dismissed it. Jeremiah was just so unstoppably optimistic that he had to assume every girl wanted him, despite whatever evidence he was faced with.
They maneuvered through the casino to the elevators and made their way to the top floor. The suite was as spectacular as Aaron remembered, with a private bar area and separate rooms. The Las Vegas Strip shimmered from the huge windows. Jeremiah turned to him. “Okay, so we have about two hours before we need to leave for dinner. The girls are going to meet us there. Quick nap, and then we meet up? If things go according to plan, it’s going to be a long night.” Jeremiah seemed giddy at the prospect.
Aaron nodded, but couldn’t summon his usual enthusiasm, even with Jeremiah practically dancing with excitement. By the time he was in his room, he was so frustrated at his inability to focus his mind away from his airport mystery woman that he simply gave up; he fell asleep imagining her walking up to him, sliding her arm around his neck and pulling him in for a long, deep kiss.
* * *
JESSICA LEANED BACK in the limo as it slowly wound through the city. She had assumed they would be heading to the hotel and crashing for the night—after all, it was nearly ten and they’d just gotten off a long flight—but apparently she’d been wrong. They were stopping at the Palazzo, one of the glitzy casinos on the Strip, just long enough to drop off their bags and change, which for the rest of the girls seemed to mean slipping into shorter skirts and higher heels and throwing on some more makeup.
Jessica opened her small bag and looked at her two dresses folded next to her jeans and T-shirts. The jeans looked so comfortable, but she could just imagine Cindy’s reaction if she even tried to put them on and grabbed a dress instead. It was a purple lacy thing that went to her knees—she had purchased it for a cousin’s summer wedding the year before. It wasn’t as comfortable as her jeans but was as close as a dress could get.
As she held it up to see how wrinkled it was, Cindy spoke up behind her. “No. Jessica, you are not wearing your purple ‘wedding guest’ dress. It’s not a clubbing dress!”
“I don’t have clubbing dresses. You know that,” Jessica reminded her friend, hoping Cindy would accept it and let her slip it on.
Cindy gave her a triumphant smile, and Jessica waited for whatever disaster it foreshadowed. Cindy said, “It just so happens that I was very aware of that and took the liberty to pack a few dresses for you. And shoes that match so you don’t try to wear those boots or whatever ridiculous shoes you brought.”
Jessica almost said something about the difference in what she and Cindy considered to be ridiculous footwear, but she kept her mouth shut. It was her friend’s weekend—she could suffer through a few uncomfortable nights. She shrugged. “Whatever you say, boss. It’s your weekend.”
Cindy’s grin widened. “I was really hoping you would say that. Ladies, Jessica needs help with her hair and makeup. Hurry! We have dinner reservations.”
In less than a minute, Jessica found herself sitting on the edge of the hotel room’s bathtub, her eyes closed, with Cindy and Alexis or whoever tugging at her hair, the one who was either Marilyn or Arely brushing eye shadow across her eyelids, and somebody else scraping at her lips with a lipstick pencil thing.
“This color is perfect on you,” one of them said. Jessica couldn’t move her mouth to respond or open her eyes to see who it was.
She had been Cindy’s guinea pig enough times to not move unless she wanted a burn from a curling iron or a stab in the eye, so she just stayed still until they moved away, satisfied.
“You look so pretty!” Cindy exclaimed. “And don’t you dare tuck your hair behind your ears.”
Jessica glanced in the mirror. Actually she did look pretty good. Her hair curled over her shoulders in a way it never did for her, and her eyes looked big and greener than usual.
“We need to get going,” Cindy called out to the women as they rushed around making last-minute adjustments to themselves.
Jessica had just realized she was still wearing her button-down shirt and yoga pants from the flight when a small red bundle of fabric hit her arm. She looked to see who had thrown it.
Cindy smiled at her. “Put it on and don’t complain. We have to go!”
The moment she unrolled the dress, Jessica could see why Cindy had waited until the last minute to give it to her. “Cindy, this is going to be way too short on me. I can’t wear this.”
Cindy didn’t even turn around. “Don’t care. You said I’m the boss. It’ll be fun!”
Jessica bit back her grumbling and slid into the dress. Her legs stuck out of it like flagpoles, and if she pulled it down another inch, the top would reveal enough to get her arrested for public indecency. What was Cindy thinking?
But there was nothing to be done. She slipped into the four-inch heels that Cindy had set beside her, a pair Cindy had tried to get her to borrow at least a dozen times and had now finally succeeded in foisting upon her, and left the hotel room without looking in the mirror. She didn’t want to know how awkward and gangly she looked.
She felt as if she was towering over everyone else, but there was nothing she could do about it. They were already on their way, off for dinner and clubs and who knew what else?
Before walking out the door, though, she rushed back to her pants and pulled a slip of paper out of the pocket. She folded it carefully and slid it into the tiny purse Cindy had lent her. Not that she would call him, of course. It simply felt better to have it with her. Just in case.
Back in the limousine, Jessica felt like leaning her head against the window, but forced herself to sit upright. It had been a long day, and all the excitement left Jessica feeling worn down, her nerves frayed from the constant chatter. And it had hardly begun.
But she was determined to stay optimistic. It could end up being a fun evening if she managed to stay awake past her ten-thirty bedtime. Besides, there was a possibility she could meet Aaron the cowboy again, magically solving her dilemma about whether or not to call him. It wasn’t too far beyond the realm of reason, and even if it was, a girl could dream, couldn’t she?
Jessica would have slapped her own forehead in annoyance if she was sure Cindy wouldn’t yell at her for messing with her makeup.
Jessica watched as Cindy and her friends danced to the loud music thumping through the speakers she had somehow managed to block out—it was some song she’d never heard but they all seemed to know—and they were laughing and shouting unintelligibly at each other.
She smiled at them, glad they were enjoying themselves, but she couldn’t help feeling incredibly out of place. Again.
It would take a lot of liquor to get her even half as comfortable and free as these women were at the moment, despite being stone sober. Why couldn’t she just let loose and dance and giggle like them?
It was as if she were a scientific observer watching a unique species and trying to understand them. She was near the women, but that didn’t make her one of them.
Luckily nobody seemed to notice that she wasn’t bumping along, so she kept that smile plastered on her face and tried to look as though she was enjoying herself.
“We’re here!” Cindy suddenly called out.
Their first stop was Firefly, a Spanish tapas restaurant off Las Vegas Boulevard. Jessica took a deep breath, trying to clear out the crazy idea that she would somehow spot Aaron here.
If she didn’t let that idea go, it was going to spoil her whole weekend. She could either call him or not, but thinking random chance would throw them together was beyond idiotic.
She walked down the steps of the SUV limo carefully, very aware that another near spill like in the airport when this high up would probably end with a trip to the hospital. She wasn’t exactly confident in the heels she was wearing, and was relieved and quite proud of herself when her feet were on asphalt.
Marilyn/Arely—their names were way too similar—followed her out and took a deep breath. “Don’t you love Vegas? This is their December weather!”
Jessica couldn’t agree more. The night air was cool, but not cold enough to cause discomfort despite the thin fabric of her dress, and the air smelled deliciously of spices and seafood. Vegas had a few things going for it, that was for sure. Early December in New York involved biting winds and the musty smell of melting snow mixed in with the garbage. This was much better.
Once all the women successfully climbed out of their outlandish vehicle, they strolled into the restaurant as one mass of femininity. They were seated at a private booth, and several waiters descended on them.
“Hello, ladies,” one began as the other placed pitchers of sangria on the table. “Welcome to Firefly. We will bring out a variety of tapas for you to enjoy once you are settled. Please enjoy your meal and let us know if there is anything we can do to make your evening more pleasant.”
Cindy had told Jessica that the first night’s dinner was all part of whatever package her sorority sisters had picked out for her, but she’d had no idea it would be quite like this. Within minutes, dozens of plates filled with bite-size delicious morsels were spread across the table and her glass was filled with sangria, fruit floating around in it cheerfully. How much had the sorority sisters spent on this? She felt bad for Lacy, the one who had been unable to come and whose place she was currently filling.
These girls all seemed to really love Cindy.
The alcohol was a welcome addition to the evening, and Jessica drank a large glassful to steady herself and throw off her discomfort, and then another to try and help her forget the blue eyes that kept swimming to the front of her consciousness.
By the time they left, she was full and had downed enough sangria to help the next hour or two pass in a blur. She even danced with the other women at some very dark, very loud nightclub. She laughed and shouted with them, just one of the girls. This wasn’t college anymore, where she’d been too tall and awkward, too much of a homebody to let loose like this.
As they made it to their last stop of the evening, however, the alcohol was wearing off and she’d begun to get back to her old self, and her old self was very uncomfortable with the fact that she was walking into a strip club.
She would have fun, though. How bad could it be?
As she was ushered along into the side of the Sapphire Club designated for female clientele, her mind began to recoil at the mostly nude women leading the way to the other section of the club. Not because they were nearly naked—that could’ve been even a bit exciting if her drinks weren’t wearing off. It was because they were not the sexy alluring women she’d expected. Instead they looked like any other bored women stuck at work. With the exception of their clothing, of course.
The men were worse. They were handsome, to an extent, and all had some pretty impressive abs, but as soon as the show began, Jessica knew she was not where she wanted to be. Something about it bothered her, and though she knew it was supposed to be fun to ogle the strippers, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
After a few minutes, she made a decision. She walked over to Cindy, who was surrounded by giggling friends and dancing men in their underwear. Leaning in to her friend’s ear, Jessica pressed on Cindy’s arm to get her attention. “I’m going outside for some fresh air. It’s okay, I’m having fun,” she continued quickly, seeing that her friend was about to scold. “I just need to take a walk. Enjoy yourself and I’ll see you in a little bit!”
She smiled as she walked away to show Cindy that everything was fine, then turned around and got out of there as quickly as she could.
Outside, the air was fresh and clean. She took deep breaths of it, enjoying the sensation as it ran through her, just cold enough to tickle her lungs. She moved away from the door and began strolling, slightly unsteadily in her too-tall shoes, around the parking lot. She considered taking them off and walking barefoot, but she didn’t want to even imagine what kind of diseases she could catch if she stepped on something.
She was a little disappointed in herself at first, thinking she should have stuck it out and tried to enjoy the show.
When she thought about it, though, she knew it wouldn’t have worked. All the other women seemed to think those men grinding against them was fantastic, but it just wasn’t in her nature. She was only attracted to guys who were intelligent, never wasting time drooling over handsome men she didn’t know.
Well, except for the one.
Jessica pulled the folded paper from her purse, looking again at the blocky writing. She wanted to tell herself that he seemed smart, though she had no idea how she could’ve decided that in the few seconds of their interaction—he’d used a bookmark to give her his number, after all. Not that she had any idea what book it had been, but it seemed thick enough to be important and literary.
It seemed much more likely that she was just as shallow as everyone else and swooned the moment she saw a sexy cowboy. That had to be all it was, which was a relief, in a way, because that would make him easier to forget.
Jessica kept walking, considering for the thousandth time whether or not to call him. Then she had the urge to call her family and check on them, at least as a way to occupy her mind and stop herself from doing something incredibly foolish. But it was past four in the morning in New York, far too late at night to call without a very good reason.
Her mom would kill her if she called that late, but it didn’t stop Jessica from wanting to feel near them. Since her father’s diagnosis a year ago, she had seen her family nearly every day, and even if it was a burden sometimes, the distance now clawed at her nerves.
Not being around for four days, not helping with medicine, driving to the doctor visits and helping her mom and sister seemed an impossibly long time. What if something happened? She hadn’t been away more than two days at a time in the past year, and his six months to live had come and gone. He was still battling away, but she knew what could happen.
When Jessica was asked to take Lacy’s place on the Vegas trip, her father was the one who did most of the convincing. He had squeezed her hand and said, “You need a vacation. Enjoy yourself for a few days just this once.”
And now here she was, wandering through a strip club parking lot in the early hours of the morning. She doubted this was what he’d had in mind.
Jessica finished her circuit of the lot and was beginning another when a small mob of people stumbled out of the entrance, laughing loudly and chattering at the top of their lungs. They had to be absolutely smashed. She glanced at the party to see if any of Cindy’s friends needed to be rescued, but none of them were in the group. There was someone she did recognize, though, and the sight stopped her in her tracks. She couldn’t have been more shocked if someone walked up and slapped her in the face.
It was him. Straight out of her fairy tale and back into the real world, only not like her fairy tale at all. Aaron.
At first she couldn’t believe it, but it was definitely Aaron from the airport. The same man, this time with his muscular arms wrapped around two women who were wearing little more than the strippers, and he was laughing and joking while staring down the too-low top of the girl on his right.
3 (#ulink_a895eb71-46d4-514c-906d-7cb182fae7ab)
APPARENTLY HER IMAGINED version of him was not quite true to life.
Judging by the cowboy’s ogling, he wasn’t the kind of guy to walk up and whisper words of love unless they were helping him get into a woman’s pants. It seemed pretty clear that he hadn’t given her his number because of some special magical connection. He just saw a girl who was obviously attracted to him and he thought she’d be an easy lay.
If only her body would get the message and stop tingling.
She had pictured seeing him again in some strange happenstance, only now that it had happened, she was forced to abandon her fantasy world for harsh reality.
That was when Jessica realized she was standing in a pool of light from a streetlamp and staring bug-eyed at the group, and that he’d notice her any second if she didn’t do something about it. She turned away, looking desperately for a place to hide before she was spotted.
“Hey! Airport girl!”
Too late.
She abandoned her attempt to retreat and turned back toward the strip club and her drunk fantasy man, trying to throw as much scorn into her expression as she could to hide her embarrassment. He had been so attractive, was still so attractive, but now she knew exactly what kind of man he was. Not the kind she’d ever waste her time on.
Still, her heart betrayed her, jumping at the fact that he recognized her so quickly, as if she was special. What a dumb thought. She had misjudged the situation, that was all, and she was annoyed at herself for her lack of insight. Being annoyed was much better than being hurt—there was no reason she should feel hurt, anyway.
“Airport girl! It’s you!”
“My name’s Jessica, not Airport Girl,” she responded, hoping he would hear the tone in her voice and back off.
She wasn’t going to give this guy an opportunity to make her suffer, despite the attraction she felt for him. At least this time she could see the semitruck of heartbreak coming a mile away and could get out of the way before she got flattened.
“Jessica! That’s your name! Great. You want to go for a drink?”
His words slurred together a bit when he spoke, but she was able to figure out what he was saying. “It seems like you’ve probably had enough,” she stated coldly as he stumbled toward her.
When he closed the gap between them, she backed up until she was pressing her shoulder blade into the light pole behind her. He leaned forward, putting his arm on the metal post and leaving only a gap of inches between her face and his. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but she could also smell his cologne and the musky odor of his skin. The nerves in her fingers fired sensations through her. He was so near and her breath hitched as she imagined herself pressing herself against him, fusing her body with his, lips meeting. Warmth pooled low in her belly.
But her brain managed to stop her, pressing the panic button until the rest of her paid attention. This man was far too close to her and she needed to get away from him, regardless of how enticing the other option might be.
He leaned in another half inch and stared directly into her eyes, and she couldn’t help looking back. The warm blue had turned dark from desire, and his voice was pitched soft and low when he spoke, rumbling through her like shock waves. “Do you want to go to my room?”
Yes! her body screamed out. No! Run! Her brain shouted back. Lucky for her sanity, he didn’t move any closer.
After a deep, shuddering breath, she managed to sidestep out from under his powerful presence and get herself into clear space. As she did so, some other guy who was standing with the women near the front of the club called out, “Aaron, let’s go! I don’t want to stand here all night, and neither do these lovely ladies,” as he leaned over to one and kissed her on the cheek.
One of the girls joined in, beckoning to Aaron as if she were getting a German shepherd to heel. “Come on!”
It was very clear to Jessica that her stranger had plenty of company for the evening already. With as much force as she could muster, she said, “You need to leave me alone. Go back to your friends.”
And she spun away from him, marching toward the waiting limo.
As she stormed toward the vehicle and climbed in, her head was a flurry of thoughts, and she couldn’t stop them from rushing one after another. What an idiot. God, he smelled amazing. Another asshole. I should’ve known. I swear, I hate men. I wish my hands would stop tingling like that. Why do I only seem to like terrible men? He had amazing arms. Maybe I should have kissed him. No, that would’ve been the worst thing I have ever done. Dammit, I’m crying. I hope he didn’t see that.
As soon as she was safely hidden away from peering eyes with the door closed, Jessica allowed a few tears to slip down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure exactly why she was crying over a man she didn’t even know, a lost opportunity that had never been an opportunity at all. She just felt very, very alone.
Jessica wiped at her face, only to notice she had something in her hand. It was the paper Aaron had given her a few hours before, his phone number. She had taken it out while she was walking, wondering whether or not she should call him. But that was before she knew the kind of person he was.
Jessica stared at it for a moment—how could she have been so stupid as to even consider calling the number of a complete stranger?—and then crumpled it in her fist and threw it into the tiny trash can beneath the limo’s bar.
After a few minutes of quiet weeping, she wiped her eyes on the corner of her dress. She had to hike it up above her waist to do so and left makeup smudges on the hemline, but it made her face look a little more presentable when she looked at her reflection in the window. She shifted her gaze to the dark street and empty parking lot beyond the glass. The group was gone. Aaron was gone.
She curled against the cushions of the spacious interior and closed her eyes, exhausted from the day.
* * *
THE SOUND OF the door opening woke her, and the rest of the bachelorette party filed in, loud and raucous and discussing the different men they’d ogled.
A few were giggling like schoolgirls about “the other side of the club,” the part with the female strippers, and the customers over there who had bought them drinks and flirted.
“Marilyn even got a phone number from some random guy!” the black-haired one—Anna, her name was Anna—gushed.
Marilyn shrugged, as if this was an everyday occurrence. “Did you see how hot he was? Of course I got his number. I’m going to call him tomorrow and get him to hang out with us. I even like his name. Jeremiah. It rolls nicely off the tongue. I probably would have taken him back to the room tonight if he hadn’t disappeared when we went back to check on Cindy.”
Jessica turned her attention to her friend, whose head was resting on her knees. Jessica had never seen her that drunk. From the way the other girls looked at her, a mixture of amusement and pity, it was clear she’d spent a decent amount of time throwing up in the bathroom.
Jessica squeezed Cindy’s hand, but her friend was already half-asleep.
The conversations washed over Jessica as she attempted to listen and be a part of the group. She was still groggy from sangria and sleep, still feeling gloomy, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. Thankfully the limousine started to pull away from the strip club and turned toward the hotel.
She grabbed her phone and turned on the screen, the bright light stinging her eyes. It was nearly four in the morning.
* * *
AARON LOOKED AT the clock on the bedside table of his suite, and four o’clock glared back at him. But he wasn’t feeling tired. He felt sick and annoyed at himself. The room was dark, the large bed unpleasantly empty. He went back through his choices of the evening, unable to get over the level of idiocy.
After sleeping for a couple of hours and getting ready, he and Jeremiah had headed out to dinner at Bouchon, one of the top restaurants in Vegas, where they were joined by a few “friends” they’d met in Vegas in the past few years. He and Jeremiah had organized this dinner weeks before, trying to get their long weekend started off right, but once they’d arrived, Aaron’s heart hadn’t been in it.
The women were gorgeous and throwing themselves at him, and they had grown up on farms and ranches as he did. All the things that would normally have made his evening buzz with excitement, but he just couldn’t stay interested. Much of the meal was spent picturing his mystery girl, then trying to figure out what the people around him had said, usually responding with a very clever “Hmm.”
He kept looking around for her, even though the likelihood of seeing her again was so minuscule. A scan of the room, then the realization that Jeremiah and the girls were waiting for an answer from him. “Hmm.”
It was not going well.
With nothing better to do, and to try to help him focus on the moment at hand, he drank more ridiculously priced whiskey than he would normally allow himself.
He kept checking his phone, on the off chance the woman had called or messaged him, but there was nothing.
After dinner, thoroughly smashed, he had followed Jeremiah and the women, none of whom were much more sober than he was, to a club. Then Jeremiah, his eyes glinting, said, “I have an idea...”
Things were fuzzy there—he was pretty sure he’d called his voice mail just in case he had gotten a call—but during that time, his friend had somehow talked the girls into going to a strip club. Something had been said about being in Vegas, after all.
By the time they’d gotten to Sapphire, Aaron was starting to feel sober again, and he wasn’t happy about it. He’d been to strip clubs before—he was a guy, and a friend of Jeremiah’s. It came with the territory.
But he’d never really seen the appeal, in truth. If he wanted a naked woman rubbing against him, he preferred not to be paying her.
This time, though, he couldn’t even pretend he wanted to be there, but he didn’t want to be alone in his suite, either. And for some stupid reason he couldn’t get his fantasy of the airport girl out of his head enough to want to be back at his hotel with the women standing around him, even though they seemed more than willing to keep him company.
While Jeremiah had a great time staring at the women on the stage and flirting with any female in his vicinity, Aaron sat at the bar and had another drink. And another.
When Jeremiah and his entourage of women came to get Aaron so they could leave, he was unsteady on his feet and his mouth had felt too unwieldy to form words properly. Two ladies, both of whom he’d spent nights with on other rodeo weekends, pulled his arms around their shoulders and led him out, laughing and chatting.
He had tried to join in but was captivated by the voluptuous and prominently displayed breasts of the woman on his left. He thought she was named Laura, but he had trouble focusing enough to be sure. In his state, he couldn’t help staring, and as he did so, he wondered what the airport girl’s breasts looked like. He’d bet they were beautiful.
That was when he looked up, and there she was, as if materialized from his fantasy. She was turning away from him and several yards away, but even then he could see that the dress she was wearing revealed the tops of the luscious breasts he’d just been imagining, and the short skirt and tall heels showed off her impossibly long legs. Even drunk, he was clearheaded enough to see that shifting the dress just a few inches in either direction would serve up some amazing views.
If he’d been sober, he would’ve tried to be a little more suave, though with the way she made the bottom drop out of his stomach, he wasn’t so sure it would have worked, anyway. He might have sounded like a blathering idiot when attempting to talk to her at the best of times, but the alcohol made it worse. Worse than he could have imagined.
He sat up in the giant bed, turned the light on and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until it hurt. The pain was a welcome relief; it distracted him from his thoughts and how awful the entire evening had gone.
It seemed pretty certain that she wouldn’t be calling him. His stupid choices made any chance of him getting her into his bed impossible. He wanted her like crazy, and he maybe even had a chance at her, and he’d blown it.
She’d stormed away from him, and she might have even been crying. That didn’t make any sense, though. He’d been an ass, but could it have been awful enough to make her cry? The thought made his stomach twist unpleasantly.
After she left, he’d been so irritated at himself and everyone who had dragged him around all evening that he took a separate cab back to the hotel, leaving Jeremiah to deal with the women whatever way he wanted. They had protested when he left, but he just told them he wasn’t feeling well and got out of there as quickly as he could.
The ride to the hotel had been a blur of lights and frustration, and he had rushed up to his room as quickly as he could, only to sit there, alone in the dark, and replay the evening over again. Not only had he not forgotten about the woman from the airport; he had screwed things up with her, quite possibly with his best friend, and with a couple of other women he normally would have loved to have alone in a room with him.
What a start to the weekend.
He sighed and shook his head, but that only made him feel nauseated. The alcohol hadn’t worn off yet, but he was sober enough to realize that he was in for an ugly morning.
He turned off the light and lay back again, trying unsuccessfully to coax his mind into quieting enough for sleep.
After hours of tossing around on the bed, he finally got up and opened the shades, revealing the floor-to-ceiling window that took up an entire wall of the room. The bright sunlight of the morning was blinding, but his view of Las Vegas, with the desert mountains as a backdrop to the iconic cityscape, was beautiful. He sat on the wide leather couch in his boxers, his feet up on the elegant glass coffee table, and stared out at the majesty of it all.
It was a new day, and he was going to stop the nonsense from the night before and get himself back to normal. After a few minutes of looking at the view, he felt a little more serene, though his dissatisfaction from the previous night was still roiling inside him.
He and Jeremiah were supposed to meet up with their teams at two in preparation for the evening’s events, which meant he had a few hours to get himself back to some semblance of normal. Aaron could miss it if he wanted, since there wasn’t much for him to do, but he knew Jeremiah thought it was important, and Aaron wanted to support his friend.
If Jeremiah wasn’t too pissed at him for abandoning him and being a jackass, of course.
He had to get some air if he was going to make it through the day. Throwing on some workout clothes and running a few miles wouldn’t make up for tossing and turning alone all night instead of sleeping curled around the luscious redhead, but it was the best he could think of to get his head right.
Working on his ranch was plenty of exercise, but he had found that running was a great way to clear his head and improve his mood, so he usually ended up going out for a jog several days a week. It was the one thing that might get him back on track.
He hated running on treadmills, so he bypassed the hotel’s gym and instead made his way through the casino, heading for the exit. After stepping out the front door and into the mild sunshine of winter in Vegas, he turned toward the Strip, figuring it would be more pedestrian friendly than regular streets.
As he jogged, the fresh air against his cheeks and his shoes slapping against the pavement, he started to feel better. By the time he made it to the Flamingo Hotel, he felt halfway normal, and most of the nausea and headache had dissipated.
Aaron continued on his way north, passing several ornate casinos, finally making it to the Venetian and Palazzo hotels. He decided to run a little farther before heading back the way he had come. There were a surprising number of tourists on the streets despite the fact that it was early for vacationers to be up, not even ten, but he managed to move through them without breaking pace.
* * *
JESSICA STOOD OUTSIDE the Venetian, leaning against the railing of one of the bridges that arched over the fake canal running in front of the casino doors. As she looked around and soaked in the oddity of the oasis in the middle of the desert and the pedestrians walking by with large Eiffel Tower–shaped alcoholic drinks at barely ten in the morning, she saw a man jog past and instantly realized who it was. The shock and thrill of seeing Aaron once again, this time in basketball shorts and with only a thin white T-shirt on, ran through her body like a jolt of adrenaline.
It had been so difficult to get him off her mind all morning that she wondered if she had somehow deluded herself into thinking it was him, but no. It was definitely the man who had been starring in her imagination since their encounter at the airport.
Before she could do anything stupid like call out to him, he was out of sight, hidden by people and the decorative hedges that lined the Venetian’s walkway. The breath she dragged in shakily after he was gone felt like ice in her lungs, despite the relative warmth of the air.
She bit the inside of her lip, frustrated at her reaction. She knew that she would never feel his body tight against hers, so why did she torture herself with images of him? Erotic thoughts flooded her, but that was enough in itself to make her keep her distance. Trying to start a relationship with this guy would only leave her sitting on a plane home, frustrated with herself for making a choice she knew was bad before it even happened.
There was another option, though. She’d never truly considered having a fling—it wasn’t in her nature—but that didn’t mean she couldn’t. She was always careful around men, distant, thoughtful. In fact, she hadn’t admitted it to anyone but Cindy, but Russ had been her first and only, and that was only after months and months of dating.
Still, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t let go once and enjoy herself without it meaning anything more. Women had no-strings-attached sex all the time. It was the twenty-first century. She could do that.
Hell, maybe it’d be good for her. She had spent so much time anxious about her dad or unhappy about her failed relationship that perhaps a little time feeling sexy and passionate for once in her life would be a welcome change of pace. She didn’t need to be methodical and sensible all the time.
Except she had thrown out Aaron’s number, so even if she decided to change her stripes and enjoy a wild night with an irresponsible man, she had no way to contact the particular man who sent fire through her veins. She was never going to see him again. Even with how crappy she had felt the night before, the loss of the possibility made her sad.
Throughout her musings, she continued to stare at the place where he’d disappeared. When he ran into view again going the opposite direction—as she’d secretly hoped he might—she allowed herself to bask in her attraction, knowing she was safely hidden from his eyes by the crowd.
As he disappeared from view yet again, she came to a decision: if she ever saw him again, she’d consider it a sign and think about doing something about those feelings and being deliciously illogical for a change. As it was, she would let herself fantasize about him, guilt free. She leaned against the railing for a few more minutes before turning around and heading back into the casino, laughing at her agreement with herself.
As if there was any chance she’d ever see him again.
* * *
ONCE AARON MADE it back to the hotel, he jumped into the shower for a long, hot rinse to help clear his head. As the water splashed over his skin, his mind wandered once again to his fantasy woman, now with her name attached. He pictured Jessica, and what it would be like to touch her smooth skin, share a shower with her, rubbing her slick body, his hands in her long dark hair. He let himself revel in the scene. He’d have to content himself with his imagination, since the real thing was long gone.
After his shower, he ate and dressed in his jeans, a blue button-down shirt and his cowboy hat, the perfect attire for a day at the rodeo. It was the reason he was in Vegas, after all. By that time, he felt decent enough to try and fix a few of his mistakes from the night before, starting with Jeremiah.
As for Jessica, he doubted he would ever see her again, but if the universe aligned somehow, he wouldn’t mess it up. A third chance seemed impossible, but he would definitely keep watch for her.
He thought ahead through his day. It seemed unlikely she would be at the rodeo, but maybe he would get lucky. Then he thought of the women he was sure to run into during the day’s events, and he balked at the idea of spending his time with them.
How long had it been since he actually enjoyed the company of any of those buckle bunnies? Why had he thought hooking up with them was so great, and when had he stopped feeling that way?
He’d never before felt that fire and heat course through him the way it had done when he was just looking at Jessica.
He repeated her name to himself: Jessica. Anything less than that sensation seemed pointless when he knew that it was out there.
Even if he never met her again, maybe he’d find that feeling somewhere else, though he wasn’t sure about that. He’d never seen eyes like hers before. Or legs.
He needed help.
He heard his phone buzz, bringing him back to reality. Vegas was not the place to start rethinking your outlook on life. Aaron picked it up and glanced at the screen.
Jeremiah had texted Hey. Come over whenever you’re ready to go.
Aaron felt a little uncertain about going over to his friend’s suite. Would he be pissed about him disappearing the night before?
He tapped out a quick I’ll be right over, put on his boots and walked down the hall to the next suite.
As soon as he knocked, his friend opened the door, smiling the widest smile Aaron had ever seen. Jeremiah had barely waved him in before he began telling the story of his night. “Man, last night was awesome! Sorry you weren’t feeling great. You really missed out. Those two hanging all over you were pretty disappointed. I bet you could’ve gotten both of them. You hear what I’m saying? Both of them.
“Anyway, I dropped them off at the Bellagio on the way back here. You know Vanessa, right? The brunette with really short hair. She came back here with me. Just left a few minutes ago. You wouldn’t believe what happened if I told you. Are you feeling better? You must be hungover like crazy.”
Aaron barely had time to register what his friend was saying as Jeremiah wandered around the room, picking up his scattered clothing and gesturing wildly. Aaron was relieved his behavior hadn’t bothered Jeremiah. In fact, Jeremiah hadn’t seemed to register anything odd about his conversation with Jessica or any of the events of last night.
Aaron said, “Yeah, I felt pretty awful this morning, but I’m better now.”
It was somewhat true—he no longer felt like throwing up, at least.
Jeremiah snatched up his phone and room key card and walked back to Aaron, who was still standing near the door. Aaron considered trying to say something to Jeremiah about the night before, but decided against it. No point bringing him down.
As they exited the room, Jeremiah started talking again, giving Aaron even more reason to keep his mouth shut. “Tonight we’re having dinner with a bachelorette party, by the way. I met this sexy chick at the strip club who was there with a big group of them, but I managed to pull her aside and get her number. Her name was Marlene. No, that wasn’t it. Marilyn. Anyway, there are, like, seven of them besides the bride, and the ones I saw were all crazy hot. They’re from back East and in town for a long weekend, so I’m thinking we can get one of them to break away from the pack for you. Marilyn was all over me, so I think I won’t have a problem there—”

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