The Gambler

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Go on.”

  “It’s on the underside of my left breast. A red spot.”

  His gaze dropped to her cleavage. “You know I want proof.”

  “Maybe later.”

  His eyes smoldered with desire. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

  What were they doing? They were ruining everything. “That’s all of them,” she forced out as she slid a shot glass toward him. He removed his hand from her leg to lift it to his lips.

  This is a dangerous game, she thought to herself. But she was tired of fighting the way she felt for him. This wasn’t just untethered lust she felt—she wanted to sleep with him. Alcohol would give her an excuse.

  He downed his shot. “I want a dare.”

  She laughed. “Nope. I get to pick. Truth.”

  His gaze drifted to her lips, making it hard for her to concentrate.

  “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Sixteen, in the back of my car with Penny Lindquist.”

  “Was she your girlfriend?”

  “For about a week. Apparently she had a crush on me, and when she found out I was graduating early to go to college, she propositioned me.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Thus began a long line of women in my life.” For a moment it looked like he was about to say something more, but then he grinned. “My turn.”

  “I have to drink first.” She grabbed a random glass and gulped it down, regretting the move. Vodka.

  Noah turned his smoldering gaze on her. “Dare.”

  “I don’t want a dare.”

  “You get one anyway.” He leaned forward again, his eyes hooded and darker than normal.

  She sucked in a breath, sitting back on her stool. “What is it?”

  “Kiss me.”

  Her gaze landed on his lower lip and her heart pounded against her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this nervous about kissing a man, but this was Noah. There were so many reasons to think this through more, but the alcohol was beginning to cloud her judgment.

  “Are you sure?” she asked him quietly.

  “Very. But only one kiss.”

  Only one? Was he testing her first? Did he want to see if she was a good kisser before deciding whether she was worth the risk?

  Did it matter? She wanted this too, so what was holding her back?

  He sat on his stool, his right forearm draped along the counter. His legs were separated, so she spun to completely face him and tucked her legs between his. She leaned toward him, her face inches from his. “You didn’t say what kind of kiss. How do you know I won’t give you an innocent peck?”

  “I don’t. The anticipation of what you’ll do is part of the thrill.”

  She touched his lower lip with the tip of her finger, skimming it lightly while she held his gaze, their lips inches apart with only her finger separating them. His tongue darted out to lightly lick her finger and an electrical current shot to her core.

  He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertip before pulling it down to his lap. “Are you going to torture me all night, Libby?” he asked, his voice deep and husky. “Or are you going to kiss me?”

  “Is this torture for you, Noah?” she asked in a whisper.

  “You have no idea.”

  She moved her hand to his cheek and lowered her mouth to his, her tongue resuming the path her finger had taken. He gasped into her parted lips before she pulled his bottom lip between hers, raking her top teeth across it. He tasted of beer and vodka and the promise of so much more. His hand was suddenly on her neck, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, and her seductive playfulness vanished, replaced with want and raw need.

  And then he pulled back, his breath coming in quick pants, his eyes wide with wonder. “That was by far the best dare I’ve ever given.”

  She had a new appreciation for the dare aspect of their game too. She picked up a shot glass and held it out to him.

  A grin lit up his face. “We are so going to regret this in the morning.”

  Was he talking about the kiss, the drinking, or both? But they’d just boarded this runaway train, and she didn’t see any way off at this point. “We’ll worry about that tomorrow. I want my twenty-nine years of living to go out in a celebration. Truth.”

  “I want a dare. Just like the one I gave you.”

  “You don’t get to pick either. Truth.”

  His eyes danced with playfulness at her response, relieving her anxiety that he’d be upset with her. “What deep dark secret do you want to know this time?”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  His playfulness faded slightly. “Once.”

  That surprised her. From what he’d told her, he’d never been with a woman long enough to fall in love. “Who was she?”

  He shook his head.

  “You’re not going to tell me? Why not?” Was it Donna? Had he cared for her more than he’d let on?

  He picked up the shot glass. “I haven’t had near enough of these to tell you yet.” He downed the drink, slammed the glass down and pounded the counter, then turned his attention back to Libby. “Have you ever been in love?”

  She didn’t need to consider her answer. She just picked up a glass and downed it. Vodka. There was no way she was admitting she loved him and only him.

  “Damn,” he murmured, his gaze drifting from her mouth down her neck and hovering at her chest. “That bad?”

  “Not enough of these.” She waved the empty glass and set it on the counter.

  The whole thing was making her sad and she didn’t want to be sad. Tomorrow would be sad enough. She tilted her head to the side and grinned. “I think it’s time for a dare.”

  His eyes lit up, which didn’t surprise her. He was more a dare man than a truth man. That thought sobered her. Man after man had lied to her, but she’d always counted on Noah to not be on that list. But what if she’d gotten that wrong too?

  “Do you tell me the truth?” she asked, surprised the words blurted out without a filter. Maybe this drinking game had been a bad idea after all.

  His head jutted back in surprise. “What do you think I’m lying about?”

  She waved her hand wildly. “Nothing. Anything.”

  “So you’re not accusing me of lying about anything in particular, or just in general.”

  She was ruining their fun again, but she had to know. “Everybody lies, Noah. Parents lie to kids—the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus. People tell little white lies to make someone feel better—yes, your singing voice is beautiful. Your baby is the cutest thing ever. But I’m talking big lies.”

  He took her hand in his. “I have never lied to you, Libby. At least not intentionally.”

  That didn’t make her feel any better.

  He grunted and pulled her hand closer. “I told you I was coming to the wedding . . . and then I said I wasn’t. Maybe you saw that as a lie, but it wasn’t. I truly intended to come when I said I would. I simply changed my mind.”

  “Then you changed it back again.”

  “So you could actually say I lied about not coming.”

  She shook her head. This was so confusing. What she really wanted to know was if she could trust him, but she couldn’t ask him that. What was he going to say? No? But he’d always been there for her—the late night calls. The long talks. The encouragement with her photography. Maybe she should just trust the feeling in her gut. The one that told her she could rely on him.

  “What’s the dare?” He took a sip of his beer and then set the glass on the counter, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “I’m ready.”

  She grinned. “You have to stand up and sing.”

  “What?” he said with a laugh. “There’s no music in here, Lib.”

  Her grin turned smug. “You were the one who wanted a dare.”

  He shook his head, took another gulp of beer, and stood.

  “I want you to sing ‘Like a
Virgin,’” she said, laughing.

  “Oh, no.” He rolled back his shoulders, smiling. “You only said to sing. I get to pick.”

  He grabbed his phone and tapped on the screen. “I’m not really an a cappella singer,” he explained, glancing up at her. “Karaoke’s more my style.”

  He leaned over the counter and grabbed an empty glass, then pressed play and tucked the phone into it. She could barely hear the music over the murmur of voices in the bar, but she burst into laughter when she recognized the tune.

  “Dog goes woof. Cat goes meow,” Noah belted out in a loud tenor.

  “Oh, my God,” she said trying to catch her breath. He was singing “What Does the Fox Say?”

  He continued, grinning ear to ear. He nailed most of lyrics in the first stanza and only stumbled over a few animals.

  “I have to admit it frightens me that you know the words!” she shouted at him.

  He just beamed and launched into the chorus. “What does the fox say?” He shimmied his shoulders and his hips and continued to sing.

  Libby could hardly catch her breath from laughing so hard.

  The bartender came over with a frown, shaking his head. “Sir, I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  Libby continued giggling as Noah feigned indignation. “Why? Are the other guests jealous of my performance?”

  The employee’s frown deepened. “There are other places to go if you want that kind of entertainment.” He took Noah’s phone out of the glass and pressed the screen, turning off the music. “The patrons in this lounge prefer a less rambunctious atmosphere.”

  Several couples were shooting them condescending glares, but a few were laughing.

  “Not a problem.” Noah winked at Libby and stuck his phone in his pocket. The bartender brought the bill and Noah signed for it, still grinning. He picked up two shot glasses and handed one to Libby, then clinked it with his. “To getting kicked out of bars.”

  “Hear, hear!” She downed the shot and slid off the stool, nearly falling on her ass. Water.

  Noah grabbed her elbow and pulled her upright. He kept her steady as they walked out of the bar.

  “Let’s go sing karaoke,” Libby said, holding on to his arm.

  Without warning, he leaned over and kissed her, his tongue coaxing her lips open before it plunged into hers. His lips made her almost delirious, and the alcohol only added to the effect.

  When he lifted his head, he looked into her eyes. “Marry me, Lib.”

  Her eyes flew open. “What?”

  “We can go right now. Get married in a chapel. We still have time to do it before your birthday.”

  “Noah . . .” She shook her head. The three rapid shots—or was it four?—were all slamming into her bloodstream at once, making it even harder to focus.

  “Just say yes.”

  There were reasons she shouldn’t, but damned if she could come up with any right now. She’d never had as much fun with a man as she did with him.

  Besides, what if the curse had worked? What if Noah was the man she was supposed to marry? God knew she loved him, but did he love her?

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah.”

  He kissed her again—much shorter this time, but just as passionate—then lifted his head and shouted, “We’re getting married!”

  A few people stopped to stare at them and a group of women in cocktail dresses started clapping. One of them catcalled, “Snatch him up, honey. He’s hot!”

  “Isn’t that sweet?” an older woman asked the man next to her. “A young couple in love.”

  Her husband squinted in disgust. “Them and half the people in this damn town.”

  The crowd added to Libby’s giddiness. This had to be a dream. She was marrying Noah. This was happening.

  “Let’s go get a taxi.”

  He tugged her toward the hotel lobby, but she dug in her feet. “Wait! I need my dress.”

  He stopped and eyed her, his hand skimming from her waist down the curve of her hip. “Why? You look absolutely perfect.”

  “If I’m getting married, I need my wedding dress. I can’t get married in black. It’s bad luck.”

  “The girl needs her dress,” the older woman tsked.

  “Lib, it’s ten-thirty. We’ll have to hurry if we’re going to make it by midnight. And we still have to get a marriage license.”

  “What?” Of course they needed a license. How could she have forgotten that?

  “It’s open late. We can still get it, but we have to hurry.”

  He pulled her down the hall to the elevator bank to their wing.

  She looked up at him, blinking to make him more in focus. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”

  “Neither can I.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Something in the back of Noah’s head told him to slow down and think this through, but the alcohol encouraged him. He loved her. This was what he wanted. Why wait?

  When they got to the room, Noah pushed her against the wall and kissed her again.

  “Maybe we should get married tomorrow,” she said in a breathy voice, bringing him to his senses.

  He took a step back and rubbed the top of his head. “No! We have to do this tonight.” He grabbed the trash bag off the floor and dumped her dress onto the bed. “How do we get this back on you?”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m not putting it on now.”

  He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “You can’t see me in the dress before the wedding. It’s bad luck. I’ll change there.”

  “But I’ve already seen you in it!”

  “You haven’t seen me in it before I walk down the aisle to you!”

  If this was what she wanted, he’d make it happen. “Okay.”

  She started stuffing the dress back into the bag. “Come on. Help me.”

  They crammed it back into the bag and then ran to the elevators. The doors to a car opened and a group of men stared at them, then at the bag in Noah’s hand.

  He lifted it a few inches in greeting. “We’re getting married.”

  It must have been the shocked looks on their faces that made Libby giggle as she leaned against him, resting her head on his upper arm. The love and joy in her eyes sucked his breath away.

  He couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

  A parking attendant greeted them at the entrance of the hotel. “Where to?” Then he looked down at the clear trash bag and his eyebrows lifted in understanding. “Oh. Which chapel?”

  “We don’t know, but we need a marriage license,” Noah said. “And we need to be married before midnight.”

  “Okay. Here’s what you do,” the man said. “You get your license, then you go to Little Heaven. My aunt Angelica owns the place. I’ll tell her you’re coming so they’ll be ready for you. Sound good?”

  Noah looked down at Libby for confirmation. Beaming up at him, she nodded.

  He grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

  The parking attendant nodded and led them to a cab and opened the back door. He leaned his head into the open front passenger window. “This young couple needs to get a marriage license. Take care of them for me, will you?”

  “Sure thing, Ned.”

  Noah helped Libby into the backseat and climbed in beside her.

  “But stick around and wait for them. They’re on a tight deadline. They need to go to Little Heaven afterward. They have to make it before midnight, capiche?”

  “Got it.”

  The bag was still outside the car, but when Noah tried pulling it in, he couldn’t fit it through the door. He gave it a tug, then fell backward, his head on Libby’s lap. He looked up into her surprised eyes. “Your wedding dress is kind of a bitch.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “Here, let me take that,” Ned, the Caesar’s employee, said, unprying the bag from the door.

  “We need that!” Libb
y shouted, shoving Noah off her lap.

  He righted himself before he fell to the floorboards.

  The man leaned over and grinned. “I’m only putting it onto the front seat, miss. My friend Paul here will make sure nothing happens to it, right, Paul?”

  “You got it, miss.”

  Ned shut both doors and banged on the roof.

  The taxi driver pulled out of the circle drive and headed toward the strip. “Where are you kids from?”

  “Seattle.”

  “Kansas City,” Libby said, “but I’m moving . . . to Seattle.”

  “Aww . . .” he chuckled. “A long-distance relationship. How long you two been together?”

  “Five months,” she said. “But I was with another guy until last weekend.”

  The driver shrugged. “Hey, this is Vegas. You wouldn’t be the first cheaters to get married.”

  “Oh, no,” Libby protested. “I didn’t cheat. We were just friends.” She turned to Noah. “You wouldn’t cheat on me, would you?”

  His eyebrows rose in shock. “Cheat on you? God, no, Lib. Never. I respect you too much to hurt you like that.”

  “Are you going to ask me the same question?” she asked.

  He slowly shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. “I already know the answer.”

  “Hey, no worries,” the driver said. “No judgment from me. I’ve seen crazier things happen in this city.” He handed them a bottle of water and winked. “You kids look a little thirsty.”

  Noah screwed off the cap and handed the bottle to Libby, watching her mouth as she drank down several gulps. He was still in shock that she’d kissed him. He’d kissed her and it was even better than he could have hoped. How much better would the rest be?

  The ride to the courthouse was faster than Noah expected, but they’d finished the water as Paul pulled up to the curb. He glanced at his phone to check the time. 11:05 and he’d a missed text from Gram.

  Oh, shit. He’d forgotten all about the dinner reservation.

  He helped Libby out of the car and quickly called Gram.

  “I’ll be waiting right here,” the cab driver said, starting to pull away.

  “My dress!” Libby shouted.

  Noah lowered the phone from his ear. “We’re not getting married here, Lib. Just picking up the license.”