"My grandmother is a floozy and a drunk," Maggie said taking the proffered glass. "And she’s getting hitched to Elvis."
"She’s just..." began Alex. Maggie looked at him, waiting for the words of comfort that would make her feel better. He shrugged. "She’s just...going through a stage."
Alex seemed pleased with his reasoning, but Maggie didn’t feel better. She finished the rum, liking the nice warm feeling in her tummy, then sighed. "It’s a little late for her to experience a mid-life crisis. Grandpa’s probably rolling over in his grave."
"Johnny’s laughing his ass off," interrupted Gran as she exited the bathroom, fully dressed, purse in hand. "And I’ll thank you not to discuss my business, young lady." Alex received a glare, too, and he finished the rum in a guilty swallow.
Maggie and Alex were forced to follow Gran as she crossed the room. They stepped out from the hotel room and Gran shut the door, then marched to the elevators.
"So you hit Elvis Presley," ventured Maggie, shooting a she’s-finally-gone-over-the-edge look at Alex. "Elvis Presley is dead. I punched an Elvis impersonator in the chops." The old woman stopped in at the elevators, pushed the down button, and waved her hand imperiously. "C’mon, you ninnies. We gotta get to a wedding."
***
The limo cruised Las Vegas Boulevard as Maggie and Alex tried to figured out what had happened with Gran, Betty Lee, and Elvis.
"So Betty Lee wanted to marry Elvis, and you protested this by smacking him with his own toupee?" Maggie rubbed her temples as she tried to understand Gran’s convoluted and strange story. Her only relief stemmed from the fact that Gran wasn’t the one getting married.
"No, I smacked him with thepreacher’s toupee. It had fallen on the floor after he was knocked unconsciousness from the flying cherub statue."
"You struck a man of God with a stone cherub?"
"Of course not! Elvis’ former fiancée did that. She stormed into the chapel, heaved the thing right off the stand, and threw it at Howard. He ducked...well, you can guess the rest."
"And Howard had you thrown in jail for hitting him with some fake hair?" Maggie turned and looked at Alex, who sat next to her. He was having a difficult time maintaining his composure. His cheeks kept puffing out as he held his laughter in check, then he’d choke it all down. Tears were trickling out of his eyes.
"Well, he sort of tripped over my foot," admitted Gran. "It was an accident, but he wailed like a newborn baby when he went down. Come up cussing because he broke a cap. Apparently Elvis impersonators are very picky about having perfect choppers."
Maggie closed her eyes, took a fortifying breath, then opened her eyes again. "Why would Betty Lee marry a man she barely knows?"
"Honey, when you get old, you never know how long you got. If she thinks this guy makes her heart go pitty-pat and she wants some happiness, who am I to burst her balloon?"
"You’re the woman who hit her fiancé, remember?"
"I already told you that I didn’t know Howard’s perverted friend had pinched my behind. Howard was standing next to me and the other old coot had high-tailed to the end of the bench. Mind you, this was in the middle of Howard’s ex-girlfriend’s hissy fit." Gran sniffed. "It was a little mistake on my part."
"Where-- " Alex wiped his eyes. "Did they go?"
"Cupid’s Wedding Chapel," said Gran.
Alex told the limo driver to go to Cupid’s. Strip traffic was heavy, but the limo finally made it to the downtown chapel.
The wedding was almost anti-climatic, for which Maggie was grateful. She expected a fire-breathing ex-fiancé and flying cherub statues to burst out of the walls any moment, but nothing untoward happened, and the couple was pronounced man and wife. Betty Lee did seem happy, though Howard the Elvis impersonator was a withered old man in white bejeweled bell-bottoms and thick, diamond-studded glasses. He sang a warbly, if not heartfelt, Elvis tune after the ceremony.
"It’s so late, we might as well get a hotel room," whispered Alex as they waited for Gran to say a tearful good-bye to her best friend.
"We can stay with Gran," said Maggie.
"No, you can’t," said Gran as she joined them. "If anyone stays in my hotel room, he’ll be a stud muffin I pick up at the blackjack table."
Irritation pricked Maggie. Elvis, tequila, and now blackjack. Was there no end to her grandmother’s vices? "I flew 1200 miles on a borrowed plane to get your butt out of jail and ended up at a wedding. I’m not happy with you, Gran."
"I’m sorry," said Gran. "I really am. I didn’t know Howard would drop the charges. He was pretty upset about the tooth." She smiled and chucked Maggie under the chin. "You’re here now, dear, and you got a few hours to have some fun before you go back to the boring life you like so much. Go act like you’re young instead of my age, okay?"
***
Alex had took Gran’s advice on Maggie’s behalf and she found herself ensconced in a luxurious suite at the Mirage. The sweet smell of fresh-cut flowers infiltrated her senses as she admired the plush surroundings, marble floors, and--she walked into the bedroom--the mirrored ceiling above the king-sized bed.
"Zowie."
Alex came up behind her, trailing his fingers up her arms. "How about a warm bath." He kissed lifted her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. "A back rub." His hand coasted down to her thigh. "And...me."
She laughed, turned in his arms, and gave him a toe-curling kiss. She leaned back. "I can’t believe we’re in Las Vegas. I can’t believe we’re in this...beautiful room. And we’re alone."
Maggie stepped back. Then, with her gaze on Alex’s face, she unbuttoned the front of her dress. It fell open, revealing her black lace bra. Hunger licked her when she saw Alex’s gaze darken and his hands clench into fists. She cupped her breasts, pinching her own nipples, watching Alex’s reaction as she stroked her own body. The evidence of his desire strained against his jeans.
"Wait, Maggie." Alex licked his lips. "I have to tell you something. It’s important."
"More important than this?" She slid her hands down her abdomen, to her center, pausing, stroking a little, savoring Alex’s groans.
She slipped out of the dress. It pooled on the floor with a soft slish.
"Garters?" asked Alex in a tense voice.
She only smiled, then unclasped the garters, slowly rolling down the stockings. She felt so brazen and wild and free. The intensity of her desire, of her need for Alex, for this moment so long-awaited caused her to tremble. Wiggling out of her panties and removing the garters, she unhooked her bra, relishing Alex’s harsh breath when her breasts were freed.
"Did you say something about a bath and a back rub?"
Alex growled, took one long stride, and pulled her into his embrace, rubbing his hardness against her throbbing sex. The roughness of his jeans sent off tiny sparks. "Later."
He cupped her breasts, bending to grasp a turgid nipple in his mouth. His warm tongue laved and suckled and Maggie felt an almost painful pleasure, then he gave the same treatment to the other nipple.
"God, you taste good," he said against her skin, licking the flesh between her breasts, trailing his eager tongue to her collarbone. He lifted her and walked until the wall stopped his progress. His hands supported her buttocks as she locked her legs around his waist. Maggie’s lips found the shell of his ear, the strong column of his neck, the underside of his jaw. She practically ripped his shirt so she could feel his skin on hers.
In one swift motion, he pulled off the shirt and unzipped his jeans. Maggie tugged them down and grasped the hard length of him; Alex pressed against her, nestling inside her curls, moving against the nub hiding there. She gasped, grabbing his shoulders, and moving against Alex’s hardness. The pressure built, her pleasure swirling and sparkling.
"Oh no you don’t, Maggie, love," whispered Alex. "I want to feel you."
He slipped inside her and stroked until she went flying over the edge, crying out. Alex shuddered, then followed her into ecstasy.
***<
br />
The next morning, they enjoyed a leisurely breakfast from room service. Alex insisted they stay in bed, and he served her from the loaded plates of food. As Maggie sipped her orange juice, she took in the opulent surroundings, no longer able to ignore the questions niggling her.
"Don’t tell me your friend has his own suite here, and just happens to let you use it," she said in a teasing voice, although her gut had condensed into a tight ball.
"I paid for it," said Alex. "And I don’t want to hear about splitting bills. You deserve the best, Maggie Lynn, and I want to give it to you."
"But I don’t need fancy things or places."
Maggie watched Alex get raspberry jam from one of the jars on the serving table next to the bed. To her delighted shock, he spooned some onto her exposed breast, then proceeded to lick the sticky stuff off in a tortuously slow way that made her loose-limbed and tongue-tied.
She attempted to wiggle out of his embrace, but he took both her wrists in one hand and place them above her head. He raised above her, his grin wicked.
"Don’t just lay there," she said, pressing against the hardness between her thighs. "Do something."
And he did.
* * *
Chapter Ten
Alex tightened the bolt, then flipped over the metal part. He’d been working steadily since dawn because it’d been impossible to sleep. He hadn’t seen Maggie much during the last week because of her new job. And their wild trip to Las Vegas seemed like a dream.
Alex had been unable to properly murder his brother and sister-in-law for their interference because Danielle had gone into labor and had produced his beautiful niece. And named her Alexandria. Probably out of sense of guilt. It was difficult to harbor bad feelings toward the parents of a little girl who shared his name.
What was a proud uncle to do?
He missed Maggie. Since it was Saturday, he’d hoped they’d be able to spend some time together. He still hadn’t figured a way out of the fiasco created by his well-meaning brother.
Someone knocked on the door and his heart thumped in anticipation. Maggie! Alex yelled, "Come in." Maggie entered, looking scrumptious in a pair of pink sweats and a white half-top. When she moved forward, the top revealed an enticing view of smooth skin. Her feet were bare and her hair was pulled into a ponytail.
She hesitated in the doorway and looked at him. "Hi."
He scooted away from the worktable and walked to her. She looked cool and fresh, her face scrubbed of make-up, her eyes wide as she watched him. He leaned down and kissed her. Her arms crept around his neck and pulled him close.
Alex’s body reacted immediately. He deepened the kiss, drinking in her essence, pouring out the emotions she invoked in him. She tasted like mint toothpaste and vanilla coffee. He could not resist touching the skin of her midriff. She felt warm and soft. He stroked her stomach, then slid his hands around her back, and pressed her close. He wanted her to feel his desire, to know how much he wanted her.
She pulled away, gasping, and looked at him. He kept her in his embrace and grinned. "Hi."
He took satisfaction in her dazed look. Her eyes were glazed and her lips swollen. "Wh-what are you doing?"
"Kissing you."
Her gaze went to the table. "I meant what on you working on? What are all those machine parts?"
Tell her now,the stern voice of his conscience demanded. Get it over with.Alex reluctantly moved away and went to the table. "This stuff? It’s just...you see, I’m an inventor."
Okay, good start. Now he needed to tell her the rest. He opened his mouth, but Maggie said, "Isn’t that interesting? The president of Convenience Unlimited is an inventor, too. Simon McCormick is his brother." She looked at him. "He was the one who hired me, remember? He said his brother was doing research and would be back in the office in a few weeks. I’d like to meet him."
Nervousness knotted his stomach. "Why?"
"Because he got me the job. Mr. McCormick--Simon--made a big deal out of letting me know that the president had taken a personal interest in my well being. Apparently, he’d heard all kinds of good things from business associates, but something bothers me about the whole thing."
Alex resumed plans to kill his brother. "What bothers you?"
"I don’t know how the man found out about me. I’m sure I never sent Convenience Unlimited a resume." She shrugged. "It doesn’t really matter, though, because however it happened, I have a job."
Her words gave him pause. "I know you had a bad experience with Harrison. But would you...I mean what if you, um, what if your boss at your new job asked you out?"
She stared at him as if he’d just announced he was from the planet Jupiter. "Simon is married--very happily if the way he talks about his wife is any indication. And they just had a baby."
"I meant his brother. The president." God, he was botching this up.
"What are you talking about? Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"No!" He rubbed his jaw, noting he’d forgotten to shave this morning. It was becoming a habit. "It’s just a hypothetical question."
"I would never put myself in another situation like that again."
A point he’d never before considered occurred to him. Harrison had fired Maggie after he’d left her at the altar. Which made the guy despicable. But was it possible she had wanted to marry the boss as a career move? Maybe she was only upset about Harrison’s duplicity because it deprived her of money and prestige. The night of their picnic, she’d spoken of home and family and love with sincerity and hope...had she said the same things to Harrison?
Alex wanted to dismiss this line of reasoning as absurd because he knew Maggie wasn’t that cold-blooded. But he’d known too many sweet, pliable women who turned from purring kittens into vicious tigers when they realized he wouldn’t walk them down the aisle. What would Maggie do if she found out he was the president of Convenience Unlimited? Suddenly, he didn’t want to know. What if, instead of rejecting him as he deserved, she cozied up to him? Forgave him without so much as a slap to the face?
"Have I dropped into an episode of theTwilight Zone ?" asked Maggie.
Alex shook away his thoughts. "Sorry. I woke up too early. I think my brain’s turned to mush."
"I brewed some coffee. Maybe that’ll help." She studied the parts and picked up the flat piece of metal he’d been working on. "What’s this?"
"I’m trying to make a conveyor belt."
"Why?"
He could, at least, be honest with her about this. "I was trying to figure out a way to build a moving shelf."
She put down the metal and picked up a bolt. "So if you flipped a switch, whatever was on the shelf would come to you?"
"Something like that. I’m not sure a conveyor belt would work though. Stuff falls off."
"Why don’t you make clips or fitted holes?"
Alex looked at her in amazement. Why hadn’t he thought of that? "Great idea."
"Gran doesn’t like to admit it, but bending and stretching to get things hurts her. She likes to think she’s invincible. It would be a big help if she had moving shelves."
He nodded. "Exactly. Think of the possibilities for people like Gran--or people who are physically challenged."
"What about the switch, though? Maybe a remote control...or voice commands."
Alex grinned. "You mean like--come here, sit, stay?"
"Yes. ‘Bring me that plate, shelf,’" she intoned, then laughed. "It’s almost sci-fi."
"It’d be sci-fi if the shelf talked back."
"Alex, is this what you’ve been trying to tell me? You’re not really a handyman, are you? You just do odd jobs because you want to be an inventor?"
Alex didn’t like the light in her eyes. It was as if this new comprehension melted the lingering doubts she had about him. She thought she understood his motives for being a handyman. She thought he was pursuing a dream and he knew pursuing a dream was something she understood very well.
Ah hell.
"Sort of. But the idea hasn’t really gelled yet. I’m still working on it."
"I’ll help you," she said. She hugged him. "I’m so glad you finally trusted me enough to share what you’re doing."
"Maggie--"
She withdrew, her gaze filled with excitement. "If you can make this work, I’ll approach Simon with it. He’s very nice and open to new ideas. Just think--you have a real chance at selling this!"
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