Lady Luck

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Lady Luck Page 11

by Kristen Ashley


  Then I stood outside and pounded on the door with my foot, shouting, “Hands full, hubby! Help me out!”

  I waited approximately three point five seconds before the door opened and Ty stood there in faded jeans and nothing else.

  My mouth went dry.

  It was then I realized I should probably have gone back and jumped in the pool and, maybe, stayed there for a decade.

  Visions dancing in my head, by a sheer miracle I pulled it together enough to push through the door and walk by him all the while babbling.

  “I got you a coffee. I need breakfast but before, I need to tell you what went down by the pool and then I need a shower so maybe we should do room service because my hunger is eating through my stomach lining and I could use taking off a couple of pounds but I don’t want my system filled with stomach acid in order to do that.”

  I stopped, turned, dumped everything in my arms on the floor by holding my elbows out to the sides then I shoved a hand his way, offering him a takeaway latte.

  His eyes were on the stuff now scattered on the floor then they moved to the latte.

  “It isn’t fancy,” I declared and his eyes moved from the takeaway cup to mine. “Full fat. Considering the amount of muscle you lug around, your metabolism has to be akin to Superman’s so you can hack full fat. And no syrup because I’ve noticed you have a sweet tooth but I haven’t noticed if you lean toward anything specific, you seem to like it all and you’re a huge badass, I didn’t want to get it wrong and incur disfavor so the basic will just have to do.”

  When I finally quit babbling and he could get a word in edgewise, he asked, “Are you all right?”

  No. No. It was safe to say I was not all right. I’d seen my husband masturbating in the shower, I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life and I was standing in a hotel room probably looking like garbage when he was three feet away from me looking like the definition of male beauty and I had a near overpowering urge to jump him and fuck his brains out.

  So no, I was not all right.

  I didn’t share any of this but I still answered, “No.”

  His hand came up and he took the latte from me ordering, “Talk to me.”

  “I was at the pool,” I told him and then sucked back some of my own latte wondering if Ty would find it amiss if I hit the mini-bar and poured a few of mini-bottles of rum into my coffee. Say, seven of them.

  “Yeah, I know. You left me a note,” Ty prompted when I said no more.

  “A pool, incidentally, that you didn’t join me at.”

  “Lexie, told you, got no need to hang out in the sun.”

  “I know you told me that but there’s a meal to be consumed, it’s called breakfast and it’s the most important meal of the day.”

  “You’re hungry, eat.”

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “They got a counter at the gym. Had a protein shake after I worked out.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You have a phone, you didn’t think to call me and tell me you were covered so I could take care of myself?”

  “No, I didn’t, seein’ as you’re a grown woman. I assumed you could take care of yourself or, say, phone me you wanna know what’s happening, not charge into the room throwing sass.”

  My back went straight.

  “Throwing sass?” I asked.

  “Throwing sass,” he answered.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I snapped and, surprisingly, his brows drew together and he shared a reaction with me and that reaction was puzzlement with an edge of annoyance.

  “It means, you barged in here yammering and then threw a fit about me not joinin’ you at the pool, which I told you I didn’t do, and you bein’ hungry when anyone knows, they’re hungry, they should fuckin’ eat, and not phonin’ you when your phone’s right fuckin’ there,” he pointed to the phone that fell to the ground when I dropped my stuff, “and you got fingers so you can also dial me. That’s throwin’ sass.”

  I glared at him.

  He kept talking. “I also told you this was your vacation day so I got back, saw you were at the pool and left you to it.”

  “You left me to it?”

  “Uh… yeah.”

  “Yeah?” I snapped.

  His eyes changed at my snap and it was new to me but I read it right away.

  Confusion and annoyance gone, now he felt anger.

  He proved that by biting out, “What the fuck’s your problem?”

  “My problem, Ty,” I started, not giving one shit about the fact that this huge man was obviously angry and angry enough to let it penetrate the impenetrable shields he kept up to cover his emotions, “is that I wanted to have breakfast with my husband not be left to it. What, were you gonna leave me out there all day?”

  It was then I noticed his body had gone still but I was still angry. And I knew why I was angry. I was angry because I was reacting to something different, something important, something big and it had nothing to do with breakfast and everything to do with life being total shit and me never being able to latch onto anything good, anything clean, anything right and I sensed, no matter what secrets the man standing in front of me had, he was all three of those things. Therefore right in front of me I had something I wanted and there I was, in a position where I couldn’t let myself have it, not until I knew I was right. But I wanted it, not later, but right then and that pissed me way the hell off and I was taking all that out on him.

  “Hello?” I called. “Did you hear me?”

  Then he spoke and when he did it was soft in a way that made my body go still.

  “You wanted to have breakfast with your husband?”

  “Well, yeah,” I replied. “We did that yesterday. It was nice. I mean, I’m the kind of person who can be alone and I have no problem doing that but why be alone when you can be with someone you like being around? And we’re in Vegas and we have a vacation day. It isn’t often you get to be in Vegas on a vacation day so you should live it up. If you don’t want to hang at the pool, that’s cool. So we have breakfast, go shopping, go to some crazy Vegas museum or do the Star Trek Experience. I heard that’s cool and not just for geeks. But whatever we do, we should do something. And all of this, by the way, was something we could have discussed over,” I leaned in to drive my point home, “breakfast.”

  He stared at me and I let him.

  Then he rocked my world again and he did this be saying in a different kind of soft voice, “Baby, you wanna have breakfast with your husband, all you gotta do is pick up the phone and dial. I’m covered, you eat, I sit with you and drink coffee. But you want me, anytime you want me, that’s all you gotta do.”

  I didn’t speak and again I couldn’t breathe and there were a lot of reasons for that. The first, he called me “baby” which was the second time he did that but the first time he did it without an audience, the first time he did it in that soft voice, the first time he did it just him and me and I felt that word rushing through my blood with a warmth I never wanted to leave. Second, his soft voice was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard in my life. And third, him telling me anytime I wanted him, he was a phone call away was the kind of thing I’d wanted my entire life and never, not ever, had and there he was, giving it to me.

  “Lexie,” he called.

  “Navarro propositioned me at the pool,” I blurted to cover all the profound feelings I couldn’t quite deal with feeling right then and he gave me yet another reaction.

  His torso jerked back, his brows snapped together, his eyes narrowed and his big man energy swelled to fill the room.

  “What the fuck?” he whispered.

  “With Bag of Bones watching,” I went on.

  “What’d he say?” he asked but each word lashed out like a whip.

  “I didn’t let him say much of anything. He said he wanted to talk privately about an offer he’d like to make me. I said I didn’t wish to talk privately with him and reminded him I was married. He did a little pushing. I made it clear I wa
sn’t interested. He gave up and walked away.”

  Ty stared at me.

  “Still,” I continued, “it was an asshole thing to do.”

  Ty kept staring at me but he was doing it like he didn’t see me.

  “Ty?” I called.

  His eyes focused on me.

  “Throwin’ sass,” he muttered.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re not hungry; you got cornered when I wasn’t at your back and that’s why you’re pissed.”

  “Well, no,” I said. “We were in a public place. He didn’t push it and told me he knew the answer I’d give him but it was worth a try. Anyway, I can take care of myself but I thought you should know and I thought you should also know Bag of Bones was part of our audience. I don’t know what’s going down with him but, well… whatever it is, you should know.”

  He stared at me again and I didn’t mind because I was used to that.

  Then he moved straight into rocking my world yet again and I minded that because you never got used to that.

  “It’s good you’re not pissed but I am. I fucked up. I used you last night to help me get somethin’ I needed and doin’ it made you visible which put you where you were this morning. And I don’t like where I put you this morning. That’s on me and I also don’t like that that’s on me. But it happened and right now all I can do is promise you that won’t happen again.”

  It was my turn to stare at him.

  Then I pointed out, “But, isn’t this whole gig for me to be available to –?”

  He shook his head, his arm swung out to the side; he set his coffee down by the TV then crossed his arms on his chest. “I told you when I laid it out for you, none of my shit would blow back on you. This morning, my shit blew back on you.”

  “Ty,” I said gently, “it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

  “It’s good you think that, Lexie, but I don’t agree.”

  I tried to assure him, “He was relatively gentlemanly about it.”

  “I don’t give a shit how he was about it. I don’t like the idea of you bein’ out there alone and a man like Navarro thinkin’ he can get in your space. Your space is your space and you get to decide who’s in it. At the very least, Navarro should think your space is my space and I get to decide who’s in it. Either way, he got in your space, that does not make me happy because him doin’ it means I gave you my word and then I broke it.”

  “You didn’t break it, Ty. You can’t be responsible for his actions.”

  “I tell you to cross your legs often?” he shot back.

  I pressed my lips together.

  “Right,” he clipped.

  I walked the short distance between us and put my hand on his bicep.

  “Honey, you aren’t responsible for his actions.”

  His chin was in his throat as he stared down at me but he didn’t reply.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything,” I muttered, looking away.

  But I looked back and that was because I had no choice but to do so when Ty’s big hand cupped my jaw and forced my face to his.

  “Don’t keep shit from me,” he ordered quietly.

  I nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

  “For however long this lasts, you play wife. That’s all you do. You don’t put up with shit from anyone and especially not because of me.”

  “Ty, guys hit on women they’re wearing wedding rings or not. What he did was the same thing. Who’s to say that, he didn’t see me last night but saw me at the pool, he wouldn’t have done that anyway?”

  “I’m to say it because last night he saw you watchin’ me lose, your face givin’ it away that you didn’t know that was the way I was playin’ it but you still laid your jewelry at my side without hesitation and kissed my jaw before you walked away. He saw a woman take her man’s back. He’s a guy who’s got no shot at findin’ a woman like that because the women that gravitate toward men like him are not your kind of woman. And he wants what I got. And I showed him that. So, he might like what he sees by the pool but he took a shot at it because I showed him what’s behind the tits, ass and legs. He can get tits, ass and legs anytime he wants. What he can’t get is what’s behind yours.”

  There it was again. A Ty-style compliment that couldn’t be beat.

  “Ty,” I whispered.

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “Okay but you need to know, I’m not mad at you for that. I don’t even care about that. I’m not actually mad at you about anything. I really am hungry and wanted to have breakfast with you.”

  “Okay, I know what you need me to know but I need to know you get it that it won’t happen again.”

  Good. Clean. Right.

  Right there. In front of me.

  Shit.

  “I get it,” I said softly.

  His hand dropped.

  I instantly missed it.

  “Okay,” he said and took a step back so my hand had to drop. “Get in the shower. I’ll order room service and get you fed. While you eat, we’ll decide what we’re gonna do on your vacation day.”

  I nodded but asked, “Are you going to let me pick what I want for breakfast?”

  And again, he gave me a gift. His lips tipped up a half a centimeter.

  Then he replied, “You didn’t let me pick my coffee.”

  So maybe he also had a sense of humor.

  Good.

  One step closer to knowing what I thought he was was real. An important one.

  “Fair enough,” I muttered, smiling at my feet and turning to my bag.

  He got on the phone and I gathered my stuff as I listened to him ordering me blueberry pancakes which sounded really good. Then again, I was super hungry so pretty much anything would sound really good.

  Then I went into the bathroom, shut the door and turned on the shower.

  In the shower, I listened and heard the TV even over the water.

  So I knew a door, a wall, a shower and the TV would drown out me doing what I needed to do.

  So I did it.

  After, I felt much better.

  Even so, I knew what would make me feel even better.

  But I wasn’t going to go there.

  Not yet.

  * * * * *

  Ty

  Ty lounged on the bed, eyes on the TV and mind in the shower.

  That was how he heard it when Lexie made herself come. It surprised him, he wasn’t expecting it; the noise was slight but also unmistakable and unbelievably hot.

  He closed his eyes and muttered, “Fuck.”

  Then a knock came at the door.

  His wife’s breakfast.

  Chapter Six

  Amos Moses

  Ty

  “Amie, what you wanna do…”

  The Charger was growling down the highway, the sun shining bright, Lexie sitting beside him, hair flying all around her face, feet to the dash, knees bent near to her chest, heels popping up, legs swaying, hands on her thighs slapping, mouth open singing some hick-ass, country rock song at the top of her lungs which was the only way he could hear her considering that shit coming from her iPod connected to the car stereo was blasting out the speakers.

  It was day two of their road trip and they were two hours out of Carnal. The drive from Vegas was a one day haul but she’d wanted to take a detour and spend the night in Moab.

  And, seeing as he was currently thinking with his dick, he’d given her what she wanted.

  Thinking on it, after she told him she wanted to have breakfast with her husband, he would have given it to her. But after spending her vacation day in Vegas with her, he would have walked to Moab at her side if she’d asked.

  It was official. He was fucked.

  As they talked about what to do while she stuffed her face with blueberry pancakes after her shower, all the shit she wanted to do in Vegas he did not want to do but then she dropped the bomb that she’d never been to Vegas. Then she’d dropped the bomb that, the day before she picked him up from prison
, she’d taken her first trip to a beach. Then she’d dropped the bomb that, although her job took her to LA and NYC for buying trips, she’d had her promotion to head buyer for only a year which was when she started travelling for work, these trips were manic and she had zero time to sightsee. Further, considering she was hooked up with Ronnie, they didn’t enjoy romantic couple’s retreats at exotic locales. Pimps, apparently, didn’t get vacation time. The only other places she’d been were Austin, Texas when she went on a very long joyride in her twenties with Bessie and Atlanta, Georgia where Ronnie’s people were from and where they’d sometimes spend Thanksgiving or Christmas.

  So he’d followed her ass to fucking M&M World and dealt with her crushing disappointment that the Star Trek Experience had closed down. They’d stood in the heat three times to watch the Bellagio fountains spraying to music. They’d toured casino after casino, she’d played kids video games (not adult gambling video games) while he watched, she’d scoured gift shops giggling herself stupid half the time and pretend begging him to buy her tacky crap (and, when she wasn’t looking, he did, buying her a T-shirt at Paris Las Vegas and a snow globe at Treasure Island both of which, he made certain to note for future reference, when he gave them to her, she was more excited about than the diamonds) and they’d walked up one side and down the other of practically the whole fucking Strip after the sun set so she could take in the lights and the sights.

  And as they did this, she opened up and let it all hang out.

  Lexie forgot all about give and take and just gave.

  She did this by telling him about Ella, Bessie and Honey. About her friend Margot. About her other friend Nyssa. Yammering through lunch, through dinner, as they walked only to interrupt herself, point at something and shout, “Ohmigod, look at that!”

  She also did this by holding his hand and when she wasn’t doing that, her fingers would curve around his elbow and hold on. As she walked, she got so close to him, he could feel her skin brushing his. If they were standing, she stood leaned into his side. If they were seated, she sat close. When she talked, she’d touch him, shove his shoulder, grasp his hand, shake his arm, bump her body into his depending on what she wanted, to get his attention, because she was laughing and wanted to share her humor, because she was fake annoyed at him for teasing her or to point something out.

 

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