Nothing Stays in Vegas

by Moira McTark

  Cal stared at her, hurt and disappointment painted thick across his face. He raked his fingers through his hair and, taking a step back, nodded once. “Okay, Lara. If that’s what you need, then…okay.”

  Chapter Five

  It was already nine when Cal dragged his ass out of bed, got showered and made his way downstairs. After his make-out session and subsequent dumping by Lara the night before, sleep hadn’t come easy. And, contrary to what he’d said in the kitchen, letting her go was not okay.

  Their chemistry was too strong, their connection too intense—he couldn’t believe they were the same people who blew it so royally in Vegas. Granted, the hook up in Sin City was preceded by Cal’s consumption of alcohol in quantities that would have been deadly if not for the indelible base consumed at a three-dollar buffet around the corner from the hotel. Just the memory made him want to hug a toilet.

  As far as he could tell, Lara had been throwing back the drinks just as fast. They’d both been bitter and resentful, coming off recent break-ups. Neither of them had given a crap about who the warm body they found was, and their time together reflected that. They were uncomfortable and awkward.

  The kissing had been so bad they’d given it up completely after the first try. And the sex—he cringed thinking about the sex. Tell me I’m pretty, she’d demanded, bouncing painfully over his cock. Tell me I’m beautiful, every way you can think of, I want to hear how hot you think I am while I come. Tell me how fucking hot I am.

  Maybe the guy who dumped her had done a number on her ego and her demands were simply in response to shaky self-esteem. Maybe. Whatever it was, it had been truly, horrifically bad stuff.

  But after last night’s incredible, wet, sultry kiss, after the way their bodies moved in such sync that it physically hurt to stop touching, Cal was ready to laugh about their past in Vegas and start their future now. They were right together, he felt it in his gut. The way they’d gotten lost in conversation for hours when they’d begun emailing was evidence their personalities clicked, and after last night, he knew their bodies would too if he got another shot. He couldn’t blow a second chance.

  A round of giggles erupted from the dining room a few feet away.

  “Lara, please,” one girlish voice begged. “Do ‘Dette’ again. It’s so funny.”

  “No way.”

  Cal rounded the corner, anxious to see whatever Lara “did” that had the girl pleading. But that clearly wasn’t going to happen when Lara blanched, seeing him at the doorway. Not a good sign as far as second chances went.

  “But Nan says you’ve been doing it all—”

  “Sandra, cool it.” Lara said with a stern glance.

  The younger girl bowed her head in sulky defeat. “Sorry, Lara.”

  The rest of the girls seated around the table fell into a new conversation about some hunk on a television show. Lara put a soothing hand on Sandra’s shoulder, bringing a smile to the girl’s face before she walked over to the buffet against the far wall.

  Cal grabbed a brownie off one of the tables bordering the formal room and, looking for an open chair, took a bite. Groaning around the chocolate gluttony covering his tongue, he glanced over at the fiftyish woman in the gray uniform with silver streaked hair worn in a tight bun standing at the end of the buffet. She had puffy ankles and a crooked nose but, if she had baked the brownies, he might have to marry her.

  Finding himself an open chair at the end of the table, he poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe closest to his seat. “Morning, ladies.”

  There were a few nods from around the table but, for the most part, they were lost in conversation amongst themselves. Cal felt a little conspicuous, apparently having missed the memo about where all the guys were meeting, but he had nieces and sisters of his own, so the debate over the TV characters taking place around him wasn’t completely foreign. “You girls are way off base. Jake is playing Diana. She should get with Vince again. He still loves her.”

  Heads turned, eyes bugged wide, and when Cal winked down the table at them, wild laughter took over. The look on Lara’s face was priceless. Utter disbelief, blatant suspicion, possible entertainment.

  Cal took a sip of coffee and leaned back. “What? You think I don’t have a television?”

  Just like his nieces, the younger girls twittered with glee, asking him question after question to see if he really watched. He answered with total confidence, getting every detail wrong but refusing to accept defeat.

  Facing each challenge, Cal goofed around with the cousins, keeping one eye on Lara all the while. She looked good, more natural today with her dark, red-brown curls pulled back in a ponytail, white cotton shorts, which highlighted her long, toned legs, and a pale yellow linen shirt that buttoned down the front. She scooped a pile of scrambled eggs from a silver chafing dish then moved down the buffet to grab bacon, sausage links, pancakes, syrup, and a muffin. Cal caught himself grinning at the evidence of her excess hunger and wondered how often she indulged. It couldn’t be much, based on her tight little body.

  Licking a bit of syrup off her thumb, Lara sat down and dug into her plate of heart attack food. “Wow, this is so good. Mary, have I ever missed your breakfasts.”

  Mary was the name of Cal’s future brownie-baking bride. She arranged the serving spoons, smiling and rolling her eyes. “Really, Lara dear, I never would have guessed with that paltry helping you served yourself. I don’t know what you survive on in that tiny apartment of yours but, when you come home, Mary makes sure you eat right.”

  Cal chuckled to himself and then stopped, coffee cup halted halfway to his mouth. He looked down at Lara. “I thought you lived here.”

  “What?” she snorted, with a look of disbelief. “I’ve been on my own since college.”

  He was certain in Vegas she’d announced she lived in her parents’ house with a “what of it?” attitude. Thinking back to her emails, he was sure she’d referred to the Cape as her home too. Though, that might have been like the way he lived in Los Angeles for the past ten years but still referred to Oregon as home. “But you said…”

  Lara flinched and took two large gulps from her coffee. That didn’t look good.

  “Um, Cal, can I speak to you out on the balcony for a moment? Privately.” Her steely glare stalled the conversation around the table.

  So much for the second chance. Maybe he would have to work on a third.

  Lara paced across the balcony, the heavy gray clouds over the water reflecting her threatening mood. This was a disaster. Why couldn’t she just think before she opened her mouth? For all she actually knew about what was discussed in Vegas, she shouldn’t say a word at all.

  Blood rushed her face with a fresh wave of biting jealousy as she thought about Dette’s less than helpful account of her time with Cal. Except for announcing that she’d been on top—because she liked it best that way—Dette had been worthless filling her in on the details. Lara wanted to scream from the frustration of being put in such an impossible position. She hated to lie, to deceive. Hated that one intimate detail of Cal’s time with Dette was enough to spur fantasies about seating chart sabotage. But more than anything, she hated feeling like her sister had stolen something from her, when it just wasn’t the case.

  Cal walked out through the French doors and stood next to her. His hand cupped her elbow. “About last night—”

  She jerked her arm away. There wasn’t going to be a discussion about last night. It was time to commit. “Cal, let me be clear about this. Forget everything I told you in Vegas. Not one damn thing was true. I lied about who I was. I lied about where I live, how I live, what I like, how I act, who I am. I went there to get away from my life and my reality. Maybe I went too far, but that’s what happened. I never thought I’d see you again. So stop questioning, stop challenging every damn thing that comes out of my mouth.” She was panting by the time she’d finished. Her chest was tight, her face burned.

  She was behaving like a lunatic. There was no way he
would let her get away with that kind of unmerited tirade. He’d asked her one stinking question and she’d gone psycho to get him to back off. All to cover Dette’s dirty little on-top-because-she-liked-it-that-way secret.

  He was staring at her. “I’m not sure we ever talked about where you were from in the email. I’ve been assuming it was here for three weeks.”

  God, was it even possible that they hadn’t discussed where they lived in all that time, all those discussions? Maybe. She was acting like a complete bitch and she should apologize. No man would take that kind of unwarranted abuse.

  Cal rubbed his hands over his face. He was totally going to let her have it.

  “You’re right. I’m out of line and I apologize.”

  What the hell? “Really?”

  One brow quirked at her in a sort of sexy, disarming kind of way. “Yeah, really. I shouldn’t be throwing Vegas in your face all the time. It’s easy to see it wasn’t the real you. Did you expect me to give you a hard time?”

  “I don’t know you. I don’t know what to expect.”

  Cal stared at her for a moment, his eyes turbulent like the water beyond. He took a step closer, invading her space to the point where she could feel the heat of his skin, the charged air sparking between them. “You know me.”

  She swallowed hard at his proximity, at the memory of what happened last night. At the sense of gravity pulling her closer to him.

  Breaking the spell, he looked at the sky and shook his head—amused, frustrated maybe. Finally, he smiled down at her and jutted his chin back toward the dining room. “But, for the sake of peace, how about we go back in and act like perfect strangers while we finish breakfast?”

  Lara tried to curb the smile that fought its way free. There he was again, saying just the right thing. “That sounds good.”

  Chapter Six

  Cal headed down the hall toward the front door. Passing the living room, he saw Adam kicked back against the corner of the leather sectional with a MacBook in his lap. “Hey, man, you seen Lara? Dette told me to find her.”

  Adam looked up from his laptop and nodded toward the window. “Dette sent her to the dock, it’s just around the bend down the beach. You’re supposed to go and help.”

  Cal looked out the window at the darkening sky and choppy water. This might be perfect. With the weather starting to turn, the kids wouldn’t be after beach time. Maybe he’d be able to catch Lara alone.

  “The dock, okay, got it.” He started to head for the back of the house, when he stopped and looked back into the living room. “What gives, how’d you get out of Dette detail?”

  “I’m inept. My delicate bride won’t have me ‘fucking up’ any more of the arrangements.”

  Cal’s lips pulled back in a grimace. It was either a brilliant play by Adam to get out of the tedious crap Dette had scheduled for everyone this week, or a sad start to a marriage. Regardless, right then he could have kissed Dette. She’d given him exactly what he wanted—a solid excuse to be with Lara.

  Jogging from the house, Cal made it to the beach before he could see the dock and boathouse a hundred yards or so down the sand. He paused, a frown settling on his face at the sight of Lara hunched down on her hands and knees at the end of the wood planks. What the hell was she doing?

  Suddenly, she hurled forward. Her arm flailed and caught the post at her side, stopping her from falling forward into the water. Cal took off at a run for the dock, kicking up sand as he went.

  She must have seen him because she cried out for his help. “Hurry, please, I can’t hold on much longer. Grab me!”

  Cal shot down the wood planks and, panting as he got to her, stalled for a fraction of a second, unsure of what the problem was or exactly how he should grab her. With Lara on her knees, bent over the end of the dock, one white-knuckled hand gripping the wood of the post and the other over the front of the dock, he didn’t have much of a choice so he set his hands on either side of her hips. “What, what is it?”

  Lara shook her head. “Fucking Dette.”

  “What? Dette’s under there?” he pulled Lara back, trying to get over her to help.

  “No.” It came out as choked laughter. “We should be so lucky. Dette sent me down here to test out this damn floating sign that spells out their names—shit—I told her it was too rough…” she adjusted her grip, groaning as she pulled, “…with the bad weather blowing in and she started to scream. So here I am, with this damn sign half sinking, the netting stuck around the end of the dock. What are you doing down here?”

  “Dette told me to come find you.”

  Lara’s head snapped back, a look of confusion on her face. “She sent you? But—” Her grip slipped and she swore under her breath, making Cal smile.

  She rocked back, letting out a long breath. “It was calmer a half hour ago, but I think Dette made this thing herself… The floatation supports fell off…. Washed away the second it hit the water. Crap!” She jerked forward again. “I’ve been trying to drag this…thing back in ever since.”

  Looking over her shoulder at him, her resentment was evident. “I’ll never hear the end of it if I let the sign go and ‘ruin her wedding’. My fingers are about to be severed by the netting. It’s too heavy… I’m about to fall in. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let this bitch of a sign go. Pull me, so I don’t go over.”

  He shook his head, processing the trivial nature of their crisis but, in reality, if he didn’t help, she would be going head first off the dock. One knee bent, he wrapped his arms around her waist and tried to pull her back against him. It should have been easy, she couldn’t be more than one hundred and twenty-five pounds, but as he pulled against her, he almost stumbled forward himself. “Jesus, it’s too heavy. Let it go.”

  “No way, you know what she’s like. I’m not letting it go.”

  “Look, I barely know your sister, but I’m sure she’ll understand if—”

  “That’s right, you just met. Okay, it’s what you know about me at my worst, only worse than that.”

  Cal grimaced. He pressed forward with his feet, tucking Lara into his waist…and froze. She was pressed against his cock, which had gone half-hard watching her bent over the dock. What the hell was wrong with him? This was an emergency.

  “Harder…” she moaned, sending the wrong kind of signals racing south through his body. “It’s almost there, just pull me a little further.”

  Her hands hung forward over the edge of the dock and her ass was pulled snug into his groin. It was unconscionable that he was getting stiff, but he couldn’t help it.

  “Oh yeah, that’s it, just a little bit more…just like that…just li—what the hell is that?”

  Oh shit. He struggled to keep her from pitching into the water. “I swear, I’m sorry, I can’t help it. Let go of the net and I can put you down—”

  “What? The net’s stuck on a nail. My arms aren’t long enough to reach.”

  Thank God she was more focused on the net than on him. “Okay, just let go and I’ll get it.”

  Cal loosened his hold around Lara’s waist. She leaned back against him and for the first time seemed to notice the erection pressing against her.

  Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder at him. Her face flushed, eyes smoky, she blinked slowly as if unable to decide what to do next. Cal felt his tensed fists relax and open over her hips, the unconscious motion drawing her against him. Her teeth grazed her bottom lip and—she jerked forward out of his lap and off the dock with a scream.

  “Lara!” Cal leapt forward, jumping into the water after her. It was deep enough that his feet didn’t hit bottom when he went in, but the chill of the water took his breath away. Kicking to break the surface, his foot snagged on something. He tried to sweep it off but the other foot got caught in the motion. The damn netting.

  Pulling with his arms, his head bobbed up and he sucked in a lung full of wet salty air. “Lara!” He spun around in place finally catching sight of her beneath the surface
a few feet away.

  He dove towards her, caught her arm with his hand and, with one heave, pulled her head above the water. “Let go of the damn net, Lara!”

  She gasped for breath, her hair stuck in streaks down her face. Nodding, she held onto him as he pulled with one arm through the choppy waves to get back to the dock. She grabbed onto the ladder and tried to climb, but stopped. “It’s stuck around my leg.”

  Cal ducked under the surface to her leg. He worked the netting off her sneaker and then freed his own legs as well. “Climb out, your teeth are chattering.”

  Lara went up the ladder ahead of him, her small, round ass rocking from side to side as she pulled past each rung. And as if that wasn’t enough, her soaked clothing was completely transparent. He could see her pink thong and what looked like a matching pink bra like they were all she had on. He wanted to pull her back down and press her against the ladder, grind between her legs—

  “Are you coming?” She stood a step from the edge of the dock, her arms locked around her waist leaving a clear view of her perfect tits with their marble hard nipples poking through two layers of sodden fabric at him.

  He didn’t remember her nipples being so big, or ever looking that hard. Her shorts were bunched tight between her legs, providing a spectacular view of her little lace-covered pussy. Even with the cold water assault on his skin, his cock pressed painfully against the front of his shorts and suddenly he realized this little show went both ways. Clearing his throat, he said, “Head on in to the boathouse. I’ll be right there.”

  Lara looked over her shoulder and then back down at him, confused.

  “Go ahead, grab some towels if you’ve got some. I’m coming.”

  “Okay.” She nodded and turned to go, leaving him at least the walk in to get his dick under control.

  Hoisting the blasted pile of netting over his shoulder, he climbed the ladder and followed the alluring sway of hips and muscle into the boathouse.

  Chapter Seven