Sweet Dreams (Vegas Dreams Book 1)

by Bradshaw, Cheryl

  “It doesn’t make it right.”

  “I know. Look Rae, you’ve learned a great deal from me over the last few months, tips to help you achieve what you’re after. You have to remember, though, not everyone has help with these things. I imagine Richard’s muddling through, trying to make the right choices. He’s not perfect. And I doubt he has someone like me whispering in his ear.”

  “Why post a real photo online at all if he wants to be private?”

  “I’d guess he put that last photo up to weed out all the women who’d recognize him. He probably figured they’d say something, and he’d be able to guess their real motivation in wanting to date him. You didn’t know who he was. He gave you the fake name and then waited to see how you’d act when you saw him. I’m sure he studied your face to see if there was any recognition there when he first approached you on your date.”

  “There wasn’t. I couldn’t care less about his money even if I would have known.”

  “Oh, I imagine he knows that now.” She stood. “I think you should do some digging on your own about him. Call it homework.” She picked up the check from the table. “Today was exhilarating. I’m glad you called. Call me after you’ve spoken to him again.”

  It didn’t take long for me to learn more about the real Richard Brannigan. The man was wealthy, and at the ripe old age of thirty-one, he had already retired. According to Wikipedia, his upbringing was a modest one, similar to mine. Two parents, one sister, one brother. At the tender age of sixteen, his only brother died after an accidental drug overdose. One year later, Richard’s parents separated then divorced. Within a year his father left the picture entirely, and Richard’s uncle, Thomas Brannigan, stepped up, taking Richard under his wing and financing his way through college.

  After graduating from Harvard, Richard developed a company called Swipe. It gave people the ability to pay for anything, anywhere with a single click of an app installed on a cell phone. A few short years of stellar sales later, he sold the company, making the Forbes list of the world’s youngest billionaires under forty.

  No wonder Veronica knew who he was.

  I took out my phone and sent him a text: If you’re still interested in talking, I’d be willing to give you another chance to explain. Let me know if you’d like to meet up. He replied within a few minutes. I headed home, changed my clothes, grabbed my swimming attire, and headed to Lake Mead for our “you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine” story swap.

  Forty minutes later, I caught a glimpse of Richard standing inside one of the sexiest boats I’d ever seen. Dressed in nothing but blue and white board shorts, his muscular frame made my heart skip a few beats.

  I smiled and practiced the confidence I’d been working so hard on. “Permission to come aboard?”

  He snatched me by the waist, lifting me beside him before he unexpectedly leaned in, planting his soft lips on mine. “I’ve been waiting to do that since our date. Hope you don’t mind.”

  I grinned, he leaned in for another, and I killed the moment by saying, “I thought we were going to—”

  “Talk first?” he said. “We will.”

  His eyes drifted from my face to the gold, beaded tassels on my see-through cover-up. I looked down, realizing a bit of cleavage was partially busting out of my bikini top. Even with the cover-up, it occurred to me it might be too much. Technically this was only date one-point five. I didn’t want to give him the idea I was trying for one-point hooker.

  “You better keep that on for now,” he laughed. “I get the feeling what’s under there will be too distracting.”

  He stuck the boat key into the hole, and it chugged to life. He motioned for me to move closer to him and then said, “Hang on.”

  We launched forward. I gripped the railing, not expecting to pick up speed so quickly.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked.

  “Anywhere you want.”

  I shrugged. “You decide.”

  He pushed the throttle forward again and we headed out past Hoover Dam. Once we were well past it, he killed the motor, allowing the boat to drift. He grazed my waist with his hand as he slid by me, walking over to a gray cooler.

  “Thirsty?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Water, soda, wine?”

  “You have wine in there?”

  He winked. “Always.”

  He uncorked the bottle, filled a plastic cup, and handed it to me. Classy. He poured himself one and held it out. We tapped plastic.

  “To new beginnings,” he said.

  “What, no glass of water for you today?”

  “Nope. I was just being ... well ... stupid the other night.”

  We sat next to each another.

  “Do you believe my name is Richard now?” he asked.

  I took another sip of wine and nodded. “Why did you feel you needed to lie to me?”

  Even after my conversation with Veronica, and even after coming to terms with what I assumed were his reasons, I still needed needed to hear it from him.

  “How much do you know about me now that you know my real identity?”

  I sat up straight and owned it. “If you’re asking if I Googled, the answer is yes. I did. I wouldn’t have contacted you if I hadn’t.”

  “And?”

  His voice seemed a little on edge.

  “You have a Wikipedia page,” I said. “So now I know a little about your family, where you went to school, that sort of thing.”

  “What else?”

  Geez. Cut to the chase already.

  “I know about your company. The one you sold. I know you’re wealthy, and I know you’re retired.”

  “Then you know what I’m worth.”

  “So what?” I shrugged. “You have money. Good for you. I may not have your kind of money, but I have more than enough to satisfy my lifestyle. That’s not what I want or what I need from you, and it never will be.”

  He stared at me like he was trying to decide whether I meant what I just said.

  “I get the feeling most girls like you,” I continued. “There’s no reason why they wouldn’t. Most of the time, I imagine you feel they like your money even more. It bothers you enough to make you feel like you have to play the fake-name game. And before you say it isn’t a game ... it is.”

  He stared into his cup. “I’ve been hurt before. More than once, actually. Each time seems a bit worse than the last. It’s changed me in ways, made me create scenarios I thought I had to in order to protect myself.”

  “You’ve been hurt by other girls. Regardless of what you might think, I’m not other girls.”

  “I think I knew that the first time I saw you.”

  “Then why not tell me your name when we met, when you introduced yourself?” I asked. “Why the charade?”

  He nodded. “I suppose you’re right. The scruffy clothes, the fake name; if I think about it from your perspective, I’d be mad too. I can’t offer enough apologies. All I can say is I’ve loved women who I thought loved me, and, maybe they did, but they loved my bank account more. It made me realize I needed to protect myself. Not just my money. My heart too.”

  “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and on some level I understand. It doesn’t change the fact that everything I wrote in my chats with you was true. The conversations we had on the phone were also true. Can you say the same? When I think about the man I thought I was getting to know, I don’t know if that’s the real you or if that’s made up too.”

  “All of it. All of it was real. Just not the name. If I had it to do all over again, Rae, I would go about it differently. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve never been as excited to meet a woman as I was to meet you. There’s something about you—you’re different.”

  “Why suggest the restaurant and then get there and say you want to go somewhere else though?”

  “You’d said you liked that restaurant. When I got there I saw Adam. I knew what would happen if he saw me, and I was right.”

  I gazed
across the calm, glassy water. The mesmerizing waves rippled with a gentle ebb and flow. The boat swayed to the rhythm of the tide.

  Richard reached out, folding my hand between his. “I’ll never lie to you again. You have my word. I’d like to start over if you’ll let me. Would you be willing to give us another try?”

  “I’m here, Richard, aren’t I?”

  He apologized again, and I started to think he’d go on like this for the rest of the day if I didn’t do something. While the gesture was appreciated, if we truly were to start again, I needed him to know I could move past it. I stood up, unfastening the tie on my cover-up. I slipped it over my head with the slowest of movements, allowing him a full visual. I’d seen almost all of his body. Why not return the favor? Once the sheer fabric had slipped all the way over my head, I tossed it to the side, discarding it on the seat next to me. I glanced in his direction. It was clear he liked what he saw. Good. Now he could work for it.

  I leaned over the side of the boat, diving head first into the tepid water below. I stayed under as long as I could, bathing in it, allowing the cool sensation to penetrate every inch of my skin. When I sprung back to the surface on the other side, Richard was kneeling, his eyes fixed on the spot where I dove in.

  I whistled. “Over here.”

  He turned, the surprised look on his face hard to discern.

  “What?” I teased. “You thought we needed to sit in the boat all day talking to each other? Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “We talked. I’m good. Are you good?”

  He nodded.

  “What do you say you take a swim with me and we move past it?”

  He shook his head. “Have you always been this confident?”

  “Not always. Let’s just say I found myself recently.”

  He laughed. “You’re unpredictable. I’ll give you that.”

  I formed a V with my hands and splashed water in his direction. “You coming in, or what?”

  “Quit it.”

  “Or ... what?”

  I made the exact same gesture with my hands and pelted him again.

  “You asked for it,” he warned.

  Indeed.

  While he dove in after me, I maneuvered my way back to the other side of the boat. It was a misguided attempt to dodge him. I should have remained where I was. I felt a gentle tug on my foot. I thrashed back and forth, as much as one could in a lake of water, attempting to wiggle it free. It was to no avail. He gripped my calves with both hands, yanking me under.

  When I resurfaced, he assaulted my face with an onslaught of water. I did the only thing I could do; I spun around. If he wanted to drench me, the bulk of his attack would be directed at the back of me.

  “All right, all right, I’m sorry for splashing you,” I said. “I’m throwing up a white flag.”

  The liquid attack ceased, and the water became still again.

  What’s he up to now?

  I could hear him closing in on me from behind, leaving me no time to escape. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath, fearing I was about to go under—again. Instead, he wrapped his hands around my waist and spun me around.

  “Open your eyes, Rae,” he said.

  Not sure what to expect, I lifted one eyelid halfway.

  “Look at me,” he said, “with both eyes.”

  I did what he asked.

  “I’m torn between what I want to do right now, and not making a mistake and screwing up again.”

  “Not a risk-taker then?”

  “Not when it comes to you. I care about you. And ... I like you.”

  “I like you too, Richard. I don’t want to think about what happened when we first met. I want to think about what’s happening now. Now is all that matters, and right now, all I want is for you to kiss me.”

  His mouth enveloped mine, his teeth gently nibbling on my lower lip. I’d kissed plenty of men in my day, most being average at best, but no one had ever kissed me like this. He released me from the kiss, pausing for a moment, and we just floated, our bodies bobbing up and down with the ripple of the lake.

  It was raw. Romantic. Freeing.

  When his hands left my waist, I bit my lip, trying to contain the audible groan inside me. I hadn’t wanted him to let go.

  “You’re shivering,” he said. He tipped his head toward the boat. “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.”

  We swam for the boat. I climbed up the steps, and Richard wrapped a towel around his waist with one hand and yanked his clingy shorts from his body with the other, draping them over the side of the boat. “You may as well take your bikini off. It will dry faster. And you won’t be so cold. I have an extra T-shirt kicking around if you’re interested.”

  I flipped the towel I’d just dried off with on the ground and lowered myself down, staring upward into the fading sun. “I’m all right. I’ll take my chances.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  He refilled my wine, his finger gliding over the top of mine when he offered me the cup. I raised myself onto my elbows, wiggling the cup back and forth in my hand. “Is this your idea of food?”

  “Are you worried I’m trying to get you drunk on an empty stomach?”

  I laughed. “Are you?”

  “Today I’m all gentleman. Can’t say I’ll have this much control tomorrow though.”

  He unzipped an insulated tote and reached inside, handing me a Styrofoam container.

  “What’s this?”

  “Roasted chicken. I thought we could head back to shore, make a fire, toss the food into some foil and heat it up again. I’m sure it’s cold by now.”

  “When did you—”

  “I stopped at Le Sueur on the way here. I remembered you saying in a text that you like their chicken. I thought I’d kick things off with us by doing it right this time.”

  He bent down, planting a single kiss on my forehead.

  Us. It had a nice ring to it.

  Two weeks and several amazing dates later, I was halfway finished applying eye shadow when my phone rang. I glanced at the name on the caller ID, felt the twitch of butterflies in my stomach just by seeing Richard’s name.

  “You free for dinner tonight?” he asked when I answered.

  “Tonight could be arranged.”

  “I was thinking of asking you over to my place,” he said, but I’d rather see yours, unless you don’t feel you know me well enough yet.”

  The butterflies were on the move again.

  I thought about my new place and how I’d always been too nervous at my old one to bring anyone around. Now, I couldn’t wait to show off this side of me. “My place is fine.”

  Sasha called to me from the living room.

  “Company?” he asked. “I heard a woman’s voice.”

  “Yes.” I closed my bedroom door. “My girlfriend, Sasha. She’s going through a tough breakup.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Her husband has been cheating on her for years. I think she’s finally found the strength to confront him and kick him out. I’m trying to help her get up the courage to do it. It hasn’t been easy though.”

  “Why not?”

  “The guy’s a Grade-A jerk.”

  “In what way?”

  “Aside from the cheating, he’s verbally abused her for years. I just want my friend back, the woman she was before they married. She deserves so much better.”

  “Why don’t you go be with her? We can make plans to get together another day when it’s better for you. You say when. I can’t wait to see you.”

  His thoughtful sentiment made me want him all the more.

  “She’s not staying,” I said. “She’s attending an event for her daughter tonight. I’d like to see you too. Eight o’clock?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Hearing my bedroom door open, I swiveled around, fully aware Sasha would be standing there, arms folded, trying to pick up whatever tidbits she could
about my new relationship. I said goodbye to Richard and ended the call.

  “So, have you and this—”

  “Richard,” I replied. “And no, we haven’t. Not yet.”

  “How do you know what I was going to ask?”

  “You want to know if we’ve slept together yet. Am I right?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. You’re seeing him tonight?”

  Although she seemed happy that I was finally headed in the direction of a satisfying relationship. I sensed a sadness too. My life was coming together for once. Hers was crumbling. All I could hear was pain in her voice.

  “He wants to get together, but I’ll call it off if you want to come back later.”

  “No, I want you to see him. You’ve waited a long time to be happy.”

  We walked to the living room, sat down on the couch. “I feel like it’s almost wrong for me to find love when you’re losing it,” I said. “I feel ... I don’t know ... guilty I guess.”

  “You deserve it, Rae. It’s just that, I look at you and think, That will never happen to me again.”

  “You’re just saying that because of where you are in your life right now. It’s not permanent. There are men out there who will treat you better, give you what you deserve.”

  “Who wants an almost-thirty-year-old divorcee with double baggage?”

  “Plenty of guys date women with kids,” I said. “And people of guys are well aware of how common divorce is these days. Men and women both go through it.”

  “Date. Even the word scares me.”

  “Once you get out there again, you won’t be as scared. Trust me. The first few times it’s normal to get all caught up in what to say, what not to say. Then you get used to it.”

  “I, uhh, actually stopped by to tell you I finally confronted Damon about Nikki.”

  I was so happy I wanted to fist-pump the air. I refrained. “What did he say?”

  “Get this—he actually looked me in the eye and swore Nikki had been his one and only infidelity.”

  One of fifty infidelities maybe. “What did you say back to him?”