“To pop your slot cherry”—he wiggled his dark eyebrows at her—“you have to play this beauty.”
“Wow. I didn’t know they made these things that big.” She pulled out her card from her pocket.
“Wait.” He stopped her, then leaned in and kissed her. “For luck,” he said.
She swiped her card and pulled the lever. The dials rolled around; the first one landed on a one bar, and she felt her heart skip a beat. Then the second landed on a two bar, and her hopes fell. The third landed in between a one bar and a two. A loss.
“We still have all night.” He stepped next to her. “What shall we do now?”
“How about those?” She nodded to the smaller quarter machines down the aisle.
For the next few hours, they sat side by side as they spent their money at the quarter slot machines and drank complimentary drinks.
“How much do you have left?” he asked.
“About two dollars. You?” She could tell he hadn’t wanted to admit anything. “What?” She tried to glance at the machine he had been playing.
“I hit a jackpot of sorts and won eight hundred,” he finally said.
“What? You did not.” She pushed him playfully. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t a real jackpot—just a small one. This machine pays out up to five hundred thousand.”
“What?” She surveyed her own machine with a frown. “I didn’t know they paid out that much.”
“They do if you win the right way.” He rubbed her hand. “How about we head out and grab some dinner. Then we can come back and try our hands at the tables?”
She tucked her two-dollar credit card into her pocket and strolled down the Strip with him to a barbecue place he’d talked about.
They listened to a band play and sat out on a patio as they ate ribs and sipped cold beer. They hit the card tables next, and she was happily surprised that she won her first hand at blackjack.
“Looks like you’re good at this,” Dylan said, tossing in a few more chips for the next round.
When she won the next hand, Dylan sat out on the next one. “It’s obvious you’re lucky at cards. How about a drink?”
“I could do with something sweet and strong.” She smiled up at him and thought that description fit him perfectly as well.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
By the time Dylan came back, a small crowd had gathered around her table to watch her.
“Looks like you’re doing well.” Dylan ruffled the stack of chips in front of her.
She was up by almost $200. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and set her drink down.
Yet this time, she lost both hands. Glancing up, she decided she needed to stretch her legs and make a bathroom run.
Some folks took her spot at the table after she turned in the chips to the dealer and received a receipt in their place.
“Smart.” She tucked the receipt into her front pocket. “I was beginning to wonder how I was going to carry all of those chips around with me.”
He chuckled and took her hand. “Need some fresh air?”
“I could use some.” They made their way toward the doors.
Stepping out, she was thankful the evening had cooled off some. They strolled around the fountains once more.
“What’s going to happen if you don’t find your dad?” she finally asked, figuring since she was on a roll, she could gamble by asking him the questions she needed to ask.
He turned his eyes toward her. “We’re not sure.”
“Will your business suffer?”
“It could.” He stopped, and she stood next to him. “I’d hate to think that what your dad went through could happen to us. I mean, as far as the business sliding. We need the income; not to mention, we were all looking forward to someday taking over the business together.”
“But you don’t currently work there?” she asked.
“No, which was a dumb move for us.” She could see the frustration in his eyes as he reached down and took her hand in his. “Hindsight.”
“The business relies on him that much?”
“No”—he angled his head toward her face—“but we relied on him. How about we get some gelato?” He drew her to a halt in front of a small shop.
She knew he was trying to avoid the topic. But later, as she stood in front of the fountains, eating her raspberry gelato with his arms around her, she could only think it felt so good, so right. When she turned to wrap her arms around him in turn, the slow kiss was just what she needed.
“I know you probably want to head back in and double your winnings, but . . .” He kissed her again. “I want you so bad.” He rested his forehead on hers. “I’ve wanted you all day long.”
“Take me upstairs.” She reached for his hand. “I want to get lucky. Finally.” He joined her in a laugh and started pulling her toward the doors.
They remained silent as they made it to the elevators, then stood back as several others exited on different floors.
When they were the last ones in the elevator, he moved to her, held her against the wall, and kissed her until her toes went numb.
Then he pulled her out as they made their way to the room.
When the door shut behind her, he pounced again, this time pinning her to the door and kissing her until she hoisted herself up, wrapping her legs around his hips.
“Dylan, I need . . .” she said against his lips.
“Yeah.” He walked them backward and almost fell. Laughing, she held on to him as he carted her into the room and playfully tossed her down on the bed.
“Get down here.” She motioned with her finger.
He smiled down at her and pulled his shirt over his head, then reached for hers. Sitting up, she allowed him to tug off her shirt and jeans.
“God, I could get used to spending my nights like this.” He moved between her spread legs.
“Me too.” She held on to him as he kissed her until her head spun.
When he slid into her, she felt her chest contract while all the emotions of the last two days rolled out of her. She used the energy to take what she wanted from him.
When she knew she couldn’t hold back any longer, she arched and cried out his name.
She surfaced again when their bodies had cooled off, to the point that she tugged on the blankets and crawled under them. He followed her, and she wrapped herself around him.
She rested her head on his chest and smiled as she rose and fell with each of his breaths.
“Yeah, I could get used to this.” She drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dylan couldn’t help feeling a little guilty as he listened to Zoey breathing as they lay there. Guilty for using her the way he had that night. But his mind kept justifying it, telling him that she had wanted him too.
He ran a hand over her bare shoulder and closed his eyes at the wonderful feeling of her lying next to him. What was he going to do when they went back to the camp? How was he going to sleep without her in his bed? He knew that, with him bunking with his brothers and her with her sister, they wouldn’t be able to be together at night.
His mind turned to their conversation over the past two days. They had talked about family. His and hers. It was strange how similar the last few years of their lives had been. All except for the fact that Zoey and Scarlett had been lucky enough to have Kimberly.
Did she know how lucky they were to have their mother?
It wasn’t as if he’d lacked anything growing up. Their father had been very hands on when they had been younger.
He had been at every soccer or football game, not to mention every swim meet he’d had. Anything the three of them had asked for, they had been given.
Much like her father, his father had started acting up shortly after Liam’s eighteenth birthday. He still found it hard to believe that it had been more than six months since he’d talked to his dad.
It would have been different if
there had been a fight or an argument with any of them. Instead, one day he’d gotten a call from Owen.
“Dad’s gone,” Owen had said.
“Gone?” Dylan had instantly thought his brother had meant dead, and he’d swallowed hard.
“He packed a bag and left,” Owen clarified, and Dylan relaxed. He was in the car and had almost jerked the wheel off the road when he’d heard the worry in his brother’s voice.
“He’s done that before.”
“Yeah, but it’s been two months,” Owen added.
“Two months?” Dylan searched his memory for the last time he’d talked to his father. “How do you know it’s been two months?”
“Because I’m the one who drove him to the bank.”
“The . . . what? I lost you.” He pulled into his condo parking lot.
“Dad asked me to drop him off at the bank. I thought it was for a meeting.”
“And what? He wandered out of the bank?” he asked.
“Not before pulling everything out of the account and closing it.”
“What? He closed—”
“I didn’t realize he was gone until I stopped off at his place. Joel’s been there, watching over the place. Dad asked him to.”
“For how long?”
“Hello, McFly—two whole fucking months.” His brother sounded irritated.
“Well, shit. Have you tried calling him?” He parked.
“Yeah, his cell has been disconnected.”
“That can’t be right,” he answered. “I’m heading into my place. I’ll call you when I’m upstairs.”
“Better yet, meet me over at Dad’s place. I called Liam,” Owen had added.
Dylan had backed the car out. “See you in ten.” He’d hung up.
That had been the first of many meetings between the brothers.
It had taken them almost a full month to find the calendar with Elle’s name scratched in it. Another week to figure out who she was, and almost another full month to come up with the plan to pose as workers at the camp.
Dylan shifted and looked down at Zoey sleeping peacefully in his arms. He had lied to her, and for the first time since meeting her, it was eating at him.
He placed a soft kiss on her forehead and vowed to tell her everything when they returned to the camp, after he talked to his brothers.
The next morning, they woke early. They checked out of the hotel and drove down the street to eat breakfast.
He tried to keep the mood light, since he knew that the trip had been a tough one for her already. He had to admit it to himself: this had been the best trip he’d ever been on.
Of course, he’d never traveled with a woman before, but he had at one point had a live-in girlfriend. Which had turned out to be one of the worst ideas he’d ever had.
One day he’d come home from a short trip, and it had been apparent that his ex had thrown a party while he’d been gone. He’d been pissed and prepared to kick her out; then he’d walked into his bedroom to find her in bed with not one but two other guys, and a girl.
He’d taken a deep breath, woken the group up, and asked them all to leave.
After she’d moved out, he’d donated and replaced all his furniture in the condo. Hearing about the orgy at River Camp hadn’t been shocking to him—not after what Amelia had done to him.
When he and Zoey arrived back at the airport, he ran through his preflight checks as she strapped into the copilot seat.
“Ready?” he asked as he looked over at her. Once again, she was gripping the armrests. “Do you want to sit in the back for this part?”
“No.” She took a deep breath. “I mean, yes and then no. I trust you. Take us home.”
After waiting in the long line, they were cleared for takeoff. Once they hit cruising altitude, he watched her relax slightly. Then they hit the Rockies, and things grew bumpy. He’d handled turbulence before, but holding on to the wheel now took all his concentration.
So when he happened to have a second to glance over at Zoey, he knew she wasn’t going to make it unless he talked to her.
“Hey,” he shouted through the headset, “it’s just air.” Seeing her glare in his direction, he sighed. “Okay, hot air with bubbles of chilled air. Remember, heat rises?”
“Yes.” Her grip relaxed slightly.
“Good.” He continued to tell her about the science of turbulence and what it did to the plane.
By the time the plane had smoothed out, she was a little more relaxed than before.
“I think we’re out of the worst of it. Why don’t you head back, grab a bite to eat?” he asked.
“I’m not leaving you . . .” she started.
“Hey.” He spoke softly to her. “I’m kind of wanting a drink and a sandwich. Besides, I bet it would help to stretch your legs. I’ll keep my hands here, if you help me out.”
She nodded and got up, then disappeared into the back. He relaxed even more when she came back in with a sandwich and a soda.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m fine. How are you?” He hit the autopilot but stayed where he was just in case they happened to hit any more turbulence.
“I’m”—she looked like she was quickly assessing herself—“better. Thanks.”
“Why don’t you go back, enjoy the ride?” he suggested as he sipped the soda.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ll keep you company this time.” She strapped in again and watched him. “Talking to you helps.”
The rest of the flight home, they chatted about school, then about the camp. She told him about the last year, getting everything ready for opening day.
“We were building the first of the new cabins . . .”
She had finished off her own sandwich, and they were almost halfway home, when he noted that she looked calm. She chuckled suddenly. “Elle and I had walked out one evening to go check it out. We had taken the flood flashlights so that we could see the place. When we got there, the construction door was locked. Elle had a set of keys, and when we opened the door, a large raccoon rushed out of the building. It scared us so bad we both screamed, and we swore they would be able to hear us back in the main building.” She laughed.
“How did he get locked in the building?”
“Apparently, the little guy had climbed down the hole in the roof where the gas fireplace vent was going to be. It hadn’t been installed yet, and he was looking for a nice place to nest for the winter.”
“It must have taken a lot of funding to fix the place up. I saw pictures of how it was before . . .” He waited.
She was leaning back in the seat, watching the sky outside.
“Elle’s the one who managed all of us coming together. We’ve all put everything we have into this place.” She sighed. “God, I hope it stays this busy.”
“It should,” he said. “I mean, it’s a great business plan.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What exactly do you do for your family’s business?”
He shrugged and avoided her gaze, embarrassed at how little he did around the company to earn multiple digits beyond what he earned at the camp handling zip-lining. “Whatever they need me to. Sometimes it’s just to be the face; others it’s to meet with potential clients.”
“Your family’s business is investments. Like my father’s was, correct?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I mean, yes, to some degree.” He wished they would change the subject but knew he couldn’t at this point without causing red flags.
“R&R Enterprises purchased defunct commercial buildings and turned them around, or tore them down, and built something else that would make a profit. What does Paradise Investments do?”
He glanced down at the screen and gauged that they were almost an hour away from Destin.
“They purchase buildings.”
“Dylan . . .” Her voice made his ears prick up.
“Most of the large condo buildings you see along the Emerald Coast are ours.”
; She remained quiet for almost a full minute.
“What kind of people invest in property that big?” she asked. “I would think that the business would hold its own.”
“It does,” he admitted. “But there’s always more land and more buildings to put up.”
“And you use investors?” she asked.
“Sometimes,” he said. “If we want to stay on top of things, we use investors to purchase land along the coast. Or we buy the land from other investors by brokering deals.” She fell silent again. “You don’t have to sell your shares in your father’s business.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, but I’m not holding on to them. Besides, I’ve heard the business is struggling. It’s a good idea to get out now.”
He thought about what his father would do if any of them sold the family business. Then again, Zoey hadn’t been raised to take over after her father passed away. The three of the brothers had been, with Owen acting as head.
If anything ever did happen to their old man, Dylan had no doubt that his brother would step into their father’s role. As he already had.
“What now?” He started their descent.
“Now”—she shifted in her seat—“I let Dad’s lawyer sell off his shares and put what money he had into the camp.”
“So, you’re here to stay?” he asked.
“Yes.” She beamed. “I may not always live on site, but for now . . .”
He had to reply to the tower, then glanced over at her. “For me for now, I’ll keep showing people a good time while flying through the trees. Ready to land this bird?” He turned the plane and lined it up with the runway.
“Oh god,” he thought he heard her say as her fingers dug into the armrests again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She realized quickly how great it was to be back on the ground as the plane came to a stop. When they pulled into the camp’s parking area late Wednesday evening, she smiled when she noticed that her friends were waiting for them.
“So?” Elle asked after hugging her. “How did it go?”
“I’m tired.” She twisted to crack her back.
“We hit some turbulence on the way home,” Dylan supplied.
Summer Nights Page 17