Vegas, Baby: Complete Series

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Vegas, Baby: Complete Series Page 7

by Fiona Davenport


  “This place is exactly what you’re looking for, right?” He followed us out to the back porch and walked over to the outdoor kitchen and peered inside the pizza oven. “Like I said on the phone yesterday, I knew I had to get you in here before anyone else had the chance to see this house. It isn’t going to be on the market for long.”

  Drew snorted and shook his head. “The market for ten-million-dollar homes isn’t that big. I doubt we’ll have a lot of competition for whichever house we decide to purchase.”

  Steven’s confidence didn’t seem to be dimmed by Drew’s bluntness. “After you see the views of the valley and strip from the rooftop deck, I have a hunch that you’ll be ready to put in an offer on this one. It’s what sets this house apart from everything else on the market.”

  After we took the elevator up to the deck, I had to agree with him. The views were great, there was enough room for us to have the whole crew over, and the glass walls were safe for the kids and they could still see everything.

  When we finished the tour and were back in the front foyer, I was just getting ready to tell Drew that this was the house I wanted when Steven proved that he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. He made the fatal mistake of assuming that Drew wasn’t paying attention when his gaze dropped to my chest and stayed there. I was pregnant, wearing a diamond on my finger that could probably be seen from the sun, and my husband wasn’t shy about public displays of affection. It should have been more than obvious that staring at my boobs, no matter how big they were right now, was going to lose him more than three hundred thousand dollars in commissions.

  “We’re not interested,” Drew growled as he placed his palm on my lower back to lead me out to the car without another word. He didn’t even pause when Steven followed after us and tried to ask what we didn’t like so he could find something else.

  “It’s really too bad,” I sighed as Drew pulled around the circular driveway.

  He turned onto the street before asking, “What’s too bad, sunshine?”

  I twisted my neck to look over my shoulder and rolled my eyes when I saw Steven kicking one of the tires on his car. “I really loved that house.”

  “I know you do.” He stretched his arm out to squeeze my thigh. “That’s why we’re buying it.”

  My brow drew together in confusion. “But you just told him we weren’t interested in the house.”

  “No, I didn’t specify what we weren’t interested in.” He flashed me a mischievous grin. “The house is perfect, but I wouldn’t trust Steven to negotiate the purchase of a doll house. After that shit he pulled in there, I won’t feel an ounce of guilt using someone else for the deal.”

  “Can we buy a house he showed us through another agent?” All I’d had to do last time was sign all the paperwork, so I wasn’t sure what the rules were.

  I should’ve known better, though. Drew hadn’t become a billionaire by coloring between the lines. My husband made his own rules. “We can do whatever the fuck we want, sunshine. Don’t worry. We’ll be moved into that house before the twins are here.”

  Bet Me, Baby

  As a professional poker player, Lia Carrington is used to taking risks...except when it comes to men.

  From the moment Becket Parker spotted the gorgeous gambler at his table, he knew she was meant to be his.

  Now he's just got to convince her that he's a bet worth taking.

  Chapter 1

  Lia

  Poker players were notorious for being superstitious, and I certainly wasn’t the exception. There were plenty of rituals I’d developed since I’d made poker my profession two years ago. One of my little quirks was the reason why I was bored out of my mind and trying to figure out how to pass the time until the tournament I was playing in kicked off in a few days. It was a constant issue for me since one of my pre-tournament habits was to fly into town days before it started.

  You’d think I’d just spend those extra days playing poker since I was in Vegas at a five-star hotel with a world-renowned casino. But nope—that was out of the question because my absolute worst tournament performance was when I came in second to last after I’d spent the days leading up to it in the casino. From that point on, I avoided poker tables like the plague unless I was sitting in a tournament or was at home gearing up for one. Unfortunately, it only took a few more trips to Vegas for me to hit up all the touristy hot spots, which left me in my current predicament.

  Wandering through the casino on my way from the elevators to the little bakery café near the lobby, my attention was drawn to a blackjack table on my right. It had a fifty dollar minimum and there were three players seated at it. One of them hooted and hollered, presumably after a big win. It looked like a hot table, but that wasn’t what drew me over. The dealer did.

  He was tall, with dark hair that was short on the sides and longer on top. The scruff on his face made me think he’d forgotten to shave for at least a few mornings. His skin was a couple of shades paler than mine, which was funny since he lived in the hot climate of Vegas while I only visited from my home base of Minneapolis several times a year. All of that combined together into a super attractive package, but it was the way his dark eyes twinkled as he joked with the gamblers at his table that had me joining them.

  Blackjack was a completely different game from poker, so I figured it couldn’t hurt my luck in the tournament to play a few hands. And since a smart player has an almost even chance of winning against the house, odds were good that I’d be able to walk away without losing anything. Plus, sitting directly across from the dealer meant that the view while I was playing was sure to leave me in a good mood, at least.

  As I slid ten, one-hundred dollar bills and my player’s card across the table, my gaze dropped to the name tag pinned to his black, button-down shirt. Becket. His name was just as appealing as the man.

  “How do you want that broken down, sweetheart?”

  “Fives, twenty-fives, and fifties please.”

  “How come you haven’t been calling me ‘sweetheart’?” the guy to my right jokingly complained.

  Becket’s dark gaze drifted over my face and what he could see of my body, and he winked at me as he answered, “Because your legs wouldn’t look nearly as good as hers do in the skirt and heels she’s wearing.”

  “Fair enough,” the guy chuckled while nodding his head.

  “That doesn’t explain why he didn’t use a cute nickname with me,” the woman on the other side of him grumbled.

  “That’s because he knows you’re with me, darlin’.” The guy flung his arm over the woman’s shoulder and pulled her close. “And he’s a smart boy. He knows better than to flirt with my woman.”

  I laughed lightly at the description because there wasn’t anything boyish about Becket. From what I’d seen so far, he was all man.

  When he pushed my chips over to me, I untangled a lock of my long, light brown hair from one of my dangly earrings and tucked it behind my ear. He paused, his dark eyes locked on the pulse at the base of my neck, before he reminded me to place my bet. I dropped a fifty-dollar chip onto the betting circle in front of me, and watched while he dealt the cards.

  He had great hands; big with long fingers that moved quickly and with great dexterity while he worked. I couldn’t help but wonder what else he could do with those fingers...to my body. As several ideas came to mind, my cheeks filled with heat. Feeling fidgety, I crossed and uncrossed my legs a few times before Becket’s attention returned to me after the two players to my right had waved him off.

  Since I had a pair of Jacks, I split my cards and placed another fifty-dollar chip above my hand. When Becket dealt me an Ace and another Jack, everyone around me cheered. While he paid out my Blackjack, I split my Jacks again. With the nine and Queen he gave me going up against the eight showing for his hand, I stayed. The guy to my left signaled for a hit and busted when the eight he was dealt brought him to twenty-two. Becket flipped over his face down card, and I grinned at the eight he turned
up.

  He paid out my remaining two bets, and the woman’s to my right. Since I’d already won one hundred and seventy-five dollars on my first round, I doubled my original bet before he dealt the next hand. My luck held, and I got a ten followed by an Ace. When he paid me out one hundred and fifty dollars, I added another fifty to my opening bet for the next round. About an hour into playing, I was up to two hundred and fifty dollars a hand and had won almost ten thousand dollars.

  “Damn, girl. You’re on fire!” the guy to my right cheered. He was loud enough to draw the pit boss’s attention, and he wandered over to the table to watch the next few hands. I wasn’t surprised when he signaled a new dealer over and informed Becket that he was close enough to the end of his shift to be done for the day. If I wasn’t familiar with how casinos operated, I would’ve been worried that I got the hot dealer into trouble. But it wasn’t unusual to swap out dealers when a table was running hot, in an attempt to slow down play until things shifted back into the casino’s favor.

  I tossed a one-hundred-dollar chip in Becket’s direction before he left, and the other players followed suit with tips of varying denominations. He accepted everyone else’s tip with a nod and smile, but his eyes darkened and darted towards the pit boss when he picked mine up. I wasn’t sure what that was all about, but I wasn’t going to ask with his supervisor standing right there.

  The mood of the table changed with the new dealer. Even though I won both of them, I only lasted a couple of hands before I collected my chips and wandered away. None of the other tables called to me, so I headed in the direction of the cage to cash out my chips. I was about halfway there when someone tapped me on the shoulder and said, “This belongs to you, Miss Carrington.”

  “Lia,” I corrected automatically, before I realized who was trying to get my attention. Turning around, I found Becket standing in front of me, his long fingers holding out the one-hundred-dollar chip I’d given him.

  “Lia,” he echoed. “You like the shortened version better than Cornelia?”

  “Yeah, but should I be worried about how you know my name? And how you’ll make a living if you give back all of your tips?”

  The grin he flashed me sent shivers down my spine. “Your name is attached to your player’s card profile, which I swiped at my table for you.”

  “Ah, that makes sense.” I pointed at the chip in his hand. “And this?”

  “The only way you’re going to be able to talk me out of giving this back to you is if you let me take you out for some ridiculously expensive drinks.”

  “Hmm.” I tapped my finger against my chin while I pretended to consider his offer. “That waitress never did come back with my second drink, and I am thirsty.”

  “I’m going to take that as a yes.” He tucked my arm into the crook of his and started to lead me to the entrance of the hotel.

  “I’m pretty sure they serve ridiculously expensive drinks in all of the bars and restaurants here at the Lennox.”

  He pulled me a little bit closer, almost as though he thought I was going to try to get away from him. “That’s a bet I wouldn’t take since you’d be right.”

  “Then where are you taking me?”

  “I’d prefer to have you all to myself, without any audience, so I was thinking of someplace where my co-workers aren’t the ones serving us. Does that work for you?”

  Oh, yes. His take-charge attitude more than worked for me.

  Chapter 2

  Becket

  Lia gestured towards the exit with an inviting smile. “Lead the way.”

  Part of me wanted to encourage her to walk in front of me so I could get a better look at the fantastic ass I’d only glimpsed before she turned around. One glance around the room shot that idea to shit. I wrapped my arm around her and glared at every son of a bitch leering at her. Her skirt was hot as fuck, but I found myself wishing she was wearing pants so that nobody got to ogle her gorgeous legs but me.

  We stepped out into the hot summer night where the glittery lights of the strip bathed everything in a soft glow. It surrounded Lia, giving her an almost ethereal look and for a second, I wondered if she was even real. Then, I remembered the punch to the gut I’d felt when I first saw her. As well as the brick wall of lust that had almost knocked me the fuck over. I’d never seen a more beautiful woman. Her gray eyes and red lips were intoxicating. But then she’d sucked me in even more with her wit and skill.

  There was a small, quiet restaurant in the casino next to the Lennox and I liked the idea of being able to talk, as well as the seclusion the booths offered. When we arrived, the young, female hostess snottily informed me that they were booked months in advance and could not possibly fit us in.

  Lia shrugged and started to turn away, but I grabbed her hand and kept her at my side. “Becket Parker,” I told the girl. “Check your list.” She huffed but tapped a few keys on her iPad, her gaze skeptical. Then she stiffened, and her head whipped up. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Parker. Right this way.” She grabbed two menus and led the way through the dining area to the private booths at the back.

  Lia raised a brow and looked at me expectantly. I chuckled and pulled her close so I could whisper in her ear, “The owner of the hotel restaurant is a…friend of mine”—I winked at her—"Actually, he owns the hotel, so don’t mention this to my boss.”

  “Frenemies?” she asked with a laugh.

  I grinned and helped her slide onto the blue velvet seat of the semi-circle booth. “Something like that.” I scooted right in next to her, rather than sitting across from her.

  The hostess laid the menus on the table and batted her eyelashes at me. It was likely that she thought it was a seductive move, but she couldn’t have been more than eighteen and it reminded me of when, Delia, my ten-year-old niece, begged me to buy her candy.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Parker. I’m new. Can I get you anything?”

  My eyes narrowed at the way she was ignoring Lia and focusing solely on me. I turned away from her, giving my woman all of my attention. “Sweetheart? What can she get for you?”

  Lia’s eyes sparkled, turning them almost silver, as she pinched her lips, holding back her laughter. She coughed a little to hide it when she opened her mouth to speak. “Chardonnay,” she requested.

  “Um,” the girl shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll find your server.” That confirmed my suspicion that she wasn’t old enough to serve alcohol.

  “That would be great. Thanks”—I glanced at her name tag—"Kimberly.” I smiled but didn’t wait to see if she left before facing Lia again.

  “Aww, I think you broke the poor girl’s heart,” she teased.

  “She’s young, she’ll forget all about me when the next mildly attractive, older man comes in.”

  Our banter was cut off when a waiter arrived with a tray holding Lia’s Chardonnay and a tumbler of Scotch for me. “Good to see you, Becket,” he greeted as he set the drinks in front of us.

  “Evan,” I said with a chin lift. “What’s with the teeny-bopper up front? Is my brother looking to replace his ex with jailbait?”

  Evan chuckled but didn’t get a word out before another man walked up. “Fuck off, Becket.” I grinned at Zack, my brother, as he glared down at me. He gave Evan a look, causing him to scurry off to another table.

  “Still a tyrant, I see.”

  He rolled his eyes. “She’s Deke’s granddaughter,” he explained absently as his eyes landed curiously on Lia.

  I put my arm around her and plastered her up against my side, giving him a warning glance. He smirked when he clocked my expression and plopped down into the booth opposite of us. I had a sudden urge to erase the features that made us look like brothers with my fist.

  “Deke is the head chef,” he told Lia. “Despite what Drew Lennox or his asshole employees”—he tilted his head meaningfully in my direction—"say, he’s the best around. So, Kimberly is here until she gives me a reason to fire her that won’t mean losing Deke.”

  He smiled charm
ingly at Lia. “So, why would a beautiful woman like you be sitting here with an idiot like my brother?”

  Lia laughed, and I got lost in the sound for a moment, the melody zinging straight to my dick. I cleared my throat and scowled at Zack. “Well, it was nice talking to you, bro. Give Delia a kiss from me.”

  He grinned and glanced between us before standing up. “As much as I’d love to flirt with you just to piss off my little brother, I’m confident he’ll blow this date all on his own. Seeing as how I can’t remember the last time he was even on one.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I griped. “Thanks for the ringing endorsement, jackass.” Zack winked at Lia and then strode away, chuckling.

  I smiled sheepishly at Lia and shook my head. “Sorry, maybe coming here was a stupid idea. I didn’t think my brother would be here.”

  Lia took a taste of her wine and cocked her head to the side. “You didn’t want to be served by your co-workers, so instead, you took me to a place obviously owned by your brother where the wait staff probably knows you even better,” she summed up thoughtfully, her eyes twinkling with merriment.

  “They’re a lot more discreet and know how to make themselves scarce here, particularly when serving one of the owners,” I clarified distractedly. I was too busy staring at her lips as she sipped, and down the long column of her throat as she swallowed. How did she manage to make drinking wine look so fucking sexy?

  When I lifted my gaze and our eyes met, I saw the heat I was feeling reflected in her gray orbs. There was also surprise, and I inwardly groaned when I remembered what I’d said. I hadn’t meant to spring that on her like that.

  “Didn’t you say the owner of the restaurant also owned the hotel?”

 

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