As she got out of the car, sending him a casual wave, he could’ve sworn that she looked an extra second at the hair on his dashboard. And then, with a slam of his door, she was gone.
The valet came to his window, and Cash rolled it down so he could let the uniformed kid know that he wouldn’t be staying. But then he glimpsed Molly walking toward the marble steps that led to the casino, her hips encased by that conservative skirt, her beautiful ass swaying back and forth.
She’d felt so good under his hands with all that soft, fragrant skin.
The valet spoke. “How’re you doing tonight, sir?”
Impulsively, Cash took out his money clip and opened the car door, going outside. “Doing great but not staying long. Keys are in the ignition.”
“Yes, sir.” The kid wrote out a ticket as Cash gave him a tip. The valet smiled and held up the twenty-dollar bill. “Thank you very much.”
After grabbing the ticket, Cash was out of there, taking long steps toward the casino, where Molly had already disappeared behind the tinted doors.
In the foyer, a blast from the air conditioner hit him, and a bronze statue of Caesar raised its hand, attracting tourists who rubbed its skin for luck. But Cash’s gaze was far beyond that. He’d spotted Molly breezing past a row of gaming tables on the floor ahead.
Was this a good idea? To chase her down like a desperate man and . . . do what? Ask her for another hour?
All he knew was that he couldn’t let her go—not yet—and he pursued her to the floor, catching up to her as she was passing the cashier’s cage, matching her stride.
It took her a second to realize someone was next to her, and she did a double take at him. She was crossing her arms in front of her chest, no doubt because he’d taken her bra and she wanted to make up for the thinness of her blouse.
“What’re you doing here?” she asked.
“The least I can do is make sure you get to your room safely. I never leave my dates hanging.”
Lame. But it was the only excuse he could think of.
She slowed down, the clang of slot machines in the background, the smell of chlorine from fountains and smoke all around them. “It’s perfectly safe in here—much safer than in your car. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Hey, what kind of date would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?”
“Oh my God,” she said under her breath as she took off again, past some restaurants and toward a bunch of conventioneers who were coming from the business area. “You’re acting as if there’s still some debt to pay off for Arden.”
“Nope, no debt. Can’t I just be a nice guy?”
“I don’t know. Is that what you’re built to be?”
Good question, but it wasn’t like he was chasing a long-term thing here. There were plenty of kinky spots in this place for one last quickie, and being nice about it wasn’t really the point.
When he didn’t answer her, she kept heading through a hallway with specialty clothing and gift shops for people who’d struck it big and had the spending bug. But when he didn’t quit, she came to a full stop, watching a crowd of businesswomen as they passed them, waiting until they were gone before she spoke.
“I thought guys like you toss out their ladies after they’re done with them, Cash, and believe me, the truth doesn’t offend me. I went into this knowing full well that what happened in the Thunderbird stays in the Thunderbird.”
She was only jumping to a conclusion he couldn’t blame her for. “I’ve never treated a woman like trash—that’d be a slam to my own tastes, which aren’t all that bad since they happen to include you. Besides, women have never complained to me about the morning after.”
“That’s because you’re already speeding down the road from them and you’re too far away to hear.”
They were standing in the middle of the marbled passage, and he moved to the side so others could pass. Molly did the same, keeping her arms over her chest.
Her skin was creamy, and he gave into temptation, skimming a finger down her arm. Goose bumps followed his touch. Looked like Molly hadn’t gotten enough of him, either. He’d been right about how attracted she was to him all along. So much for her being just a tease.
“If I didn’t know any better,” he said, “I’d say my persistence does something for you.”
“Right, it makes me think you’re a dog who’s after more bone. Didn’t your friend Gideon the cowboy call you a hound at the saloon?”
“He might’ve insinuated it.”
With the lightest of caresses, he brought his fingers back up her arm. The fine hairs on her skin stood at attention.
“Stop that,” she said.
“What? Getting you horny again?”
She glanced around, even though his voice hadn’t been that loud.
He continued. “Just admit it. You want more, too. The night didn’t last long enough.”
When she opened her mouth to sass him, nothing came out. Then she tried again. “This night lasted way too long. Just ask my friends, who are, by the way, waiting for me.”
“They’ve been admirably patient. And they can be even more patient if we . . .”
“What? Go for it in the dressing room of one of these stores?” She gestured toward a display of designer cocktail gowns in one of the windows. “Or maybe we could duck behind a statue of a naked god and make like an orgy. How about that?”
He laughed. She had a way of putting things.
“It’s not funny, Cash.”
“I like how you say my name, especially the way you did back in the Thunderbird when you were—”
“I remember.” She calmed herself. “Tonight wasn’t . . . I mean, I wasn’t even calling out your real name. I don’t even know who you are, and I’m sure that’s fine with some girls who’re used to one-night stands, but . . .” She looked around again, but there was a lull in the traffic. “I’m not those girls. At least, I don’t plan to be again.”
So she was having postcoital guilt. Her superiority to “those girls” was crumbling, but she’d get over the second thoughts about what they’d done. He knew a lot of ways to help her.
He lowered his voice, getting closer to her. “You’re definitely not like most girls, Molly. Also, you damned well know my name. I wrote it out on that napkin.”
“Beauregard Campbell.”
He shrugged it off. “Nobody’s called me that since . . .”
Since the last and only woman he’d cared about. But mainly since he was young enough to have people use his full name to yell at him whenever he got in trouble. Foster moms, foster dads . . . The only authority figures he’d never heard that name from were his real parents, who’d given him up when he was barely a few months old.
Screw them.
Molly had tilted her head, giving him a strange look, a curious one, like she was wondering why he’d shifted moods. Like she was actually interested.
He chuffed. “Don’t waste your time.”
“About what?”
About thinking he was interesting.
Her phone rang, and he was saved by the pop-song ringtone. She glanced at the screen. His time had obviously run out, and he couldn’t buy any more like he had at the poker table today.
As her phone rang again, he realized that she belonged in places he didn’t, with people who wanted to bring her back into their own world now.
She looked at him one more time with that same curious, interested expression, and he wondered if he’d given away too much on his face. And when she took a halting step toward him, then stood on her toes, his heartbeat suspended.
She pressed a soft kiss on his lips, then backed away, leaving his mouth tingling.
“I really did have fun,” she said, crossing her arms over her blouse again.
Then, after an awkward beat, she was off, leaving him with
a memory of tonight and the few souvenirs she’d left in his car.
And a craving that wasn’t going away.
***
The next morning, Molly found herself at the quietest breakfast table in the whole town.
It wasn’t because she’d decided that she wouldn’t be giving Arden and Sofia every detail about the date last night, either. No, long before Arden had brought Molly and Sofia across the boulevard to Harrah’s for this comped meal, things had definitely not been chatty in general, especially after Sofia and Molly had woken up to find Arden gone from the room at 6AM.
When they’d gotten her on the phone, it turned out she’d only been downstairs on a video poker machine, but the news had made Sofia go quiet, probably because she thought Arden had done enough gambling for all of them. Molly had asked Sof for more of an explanation, but she’d merely gone in the shower and said that she was only “overreacting” and not to pay any attention to her moodiness. It was just that yesterday had stressed her out.
Strangeness was definitely afoot, but Molly had thought it was mainly because she’d avoided filling them in on everything that’d happened on her date with Cash. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed for losing her control with him—well, maybe she was—but it was her secret, and hers alone, for now.
There was a chance neither of them would understand anyway. Sofia, in particular, would only ask things like How could you? and Why did you? and, Oh my God, did he wear a condom? Arden could go either way, but Molly just wanted to revel in the fantasy a little bit longer before her friends could bring her back to reality.
Yet that wasn’t all . . . It was hard for Molly to explain, but it was as if this erotic secret gave her even more power than she’d felt last night . . . or ever. The same went for the moment when Cash had followed her inside the casino. Even now her pulse went wacky thinking about it, but that paled next to how she’d become one big, banging heartbeat when she’d realized that he hadn’t been able to let her go without giving her one last try.
Knowing she’d been good enough at sex to have a man chasing her down had been heady, especially since every guy she’d been with hadn’t exactly praised her bang-bang skills. Actually, she’d always believed she wasn’t that great at sex, so last night had been a revelation of sorts. So had the moment when she’d asked Cash about his real name and he’d gotten a look on his face that had gripped a soft spot in her chest. Almost a haunted expression that’d made his green eyes darken.
That was the reason she’d kissed him—because something about that look had spoken to her louder than any words ever could. It’d been loneliness, and before she’d met Arden and Sofia in college, Molly had been an expert when it came to that.
How could she tell all this to her friends, though? Would they believe Cash was actually more than a sex-crazed hunk? Hell, she could hardly even believe that was the case, and she didn’t want to hear their opinions on it. All she wanted to do was hold on to the afterglow a little longer.
Just a tad.
So she kept quiet as she and her friends ate at the buffet. She’d selected the healthiest food possible, like steamed vegetables, lots of fruit, and hydrating nutrition that would make up for her whisky binge yesterday. And as she ate, she noticed Sofia and Arden giving her the detective eye. Had they read her face while she’d been thinking of Cash?
She sighed. “You guys are still bent out of shape about last night, aren’t you?”
Sofia, looking fresh and perky with her side ponytail and forever-twenty-one-even-if-I’m-thirty sundress, stirred sugar into her coffee. “We’re not mad at you. It’s only that details about the hell-date were a letdown. I can’t help thinking that there’s something you’re not telling us, Mol.”
“Molly’s not so much a kisser and teller,” Arden said. “Never has been.”
“But this is different.” Sofia put down her stirring stick. “All we got out of Molly last night was, ‘He paraded me around the saloon, I watched him pick up on other girls, and then it was over.’”
Okay, so she’d lied a touch. It was so much easier than trying to explain how she’d gone randy in the Thunderbird.
Arden, with her short red hair gelled back for the wet look, seemed detached from the conversation, but Sofia followed up.
“Molly, you did spend an awful lot of time on such an uneventful date.”
“I told you guys,” she said. “Traffic was worse than we thought on the way back and—”
Arden mixed her food around on her plate while Sofia laughed.
“Excuses, excuses,” she said. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this, just wait and see.”
Molly decided to push the spotlight off her while getting to the bottom of what was up with Arden.
“Are you okay?” she asked her.
“Sure.” She stabbed at a watermelon chunk, but in spite of her assurance, her shoulders sank. She hesitated, then tripped ahead. “Just having a run of bad luck, that’s all. I should’ve walked away from my machine last night when I was way up. That’s why Sof and I went to the room early, because an on-demand movie was way cheaper than those slots.”
Sofia put down her coffee, and Molly could tell she wanted to ask a tough question.
“Ard . . . since you lost your play money last night, what were you betting this morning?”
Something had gone down between Sofia and Arden, and neither was talking, and Molly felt sort of lost. Left out. But why not when she’d been on her own adventure and was keeping secrets about it, too?
Arden had set down her fork and leaned back in their booth. Were those tears in her eyes? Oh, crap.
“Arden?” Sofia said, sliding over to her, putting an arm around her shoulders.
Molly did the same. “What’s going on?”
“I’m so screwed,” Arden said.
Molly and Sofia exchanged doom glances. What now?
She gulped. “Don’t kill me. You promise?”
Molly nodded slowly. After a second, so did Sofia.
Arden gripped the napkin on her lap. “I took an out an advance on my credit card. Not a ton of money,” she said when Sofia stopped hugging her, “but enough so that I could try to make back what I lost last night.”
“But,” Sofia said, “last night was money you won because of your free play dollars. It was icing on the cake. Why would you need to make up for that?”
No answer.
“Arden?” Molly asked.
Her eyes were glassy. “I didn’t try to mess up so hard, you guys. But I bet on a Yankees game yesterday. They were supposed to win, and . . .”
“Arden.” Sofia was like a rag doll on the cushions now.
All of them held their tongues as their server checked in with them, pouring Molly more water, then disappearing.
Sofia sat up, making a play for optimism. “So you lost more money to the casino. It’s not like you owe someone like Cash a debt again.”
Arden sank lower in her seat.
This time Molly was the one with the, “Arden!”
Sofia acted like she was opening a door to a mysterious room, not wanting to see what was on the other side, but needing to.
“Who do you owe?” she whispered so no one at the other tables could hear. “A bookie? When the heck did you meet one of those?”
“It happened at the saloon,” Arden said.
Molly squeezed shut her eyes. The Rough & Tumble just wouldn’t go away.
But with thoughts of the bar came thoughts of Cash, and she held back a totally inappropriate, naked thrill. Nice.
“What happened at the saloon?” Molly asked slowly.
“You guys were at a table and I was at the bar, chatting with those tourists and the weekend-warrior bikers. Except one of them wasn’t exactly a ‘bike enthusiast.’ He was kind of the real thing.”
Molly gasped. �
�Are you talking about the man with the dirty beard and shirt who came in right before you went to play poker? Blue bandana on his head and sunglasses?” The guy at the R&T last night who’d been attached to a biker chick with her hand down his pants in public?
As Arden nodded, Sofia went as pale as her skin tone would allow.
“His name’s Jimmy Beetles,” Molly said. “He was at the saloon last night and I recognized him from earlier in the day. Cash didn’t seem to want to introduce me, and I got the impression he might be someone to stay away from.”
“He seemed friendly enough,” Arden said. “And I had a little booze in me, so when we started talking baseball, it seemed perfectly natural to place a friendly wager.”
Molly narrowed her eyes. “Arden, what did you bet?”
“Luckily, not you.” She pushed her plate away. “Just . . . well, just seven.”
Sofia hadn’t moved. “Please tell me that by ‘seven,’ you mean ‘seven hundred.’”
Arden paled now.
Sofia and Molly both whispered, “Shit.”
Arden waved around her hands. “I’d be in good shape if the Yankees had won. Or if I’d scored in the backroom poker game.”
Out of the frying pan and into the fire, Molly thought.
Sofia had gotten out of the booth, wadding up her napkin and tossing it on the seat. “So that was why you wouldn’t stop playing at the Rough and Tumble game, because you wanted to at least cover your bet with this Jimmy Beetles, which is a name that reminds me of the mob, by the way. Jeez, Arden.”
“Wait,” Molly said. “Did you give Beetles any personal information? Like your phone number or where we’re staying?”
Arden frowned. “Yeah, and he already texted me about settling up. I texted back that I’d have the money to him by tonight.”
Sofia gritted her teeth. “If you don’t come through, he might just come here. I think everyone in the Rough and Tumble, and maybe the entire universe, knew we were going to Caesars, thanks to the town crier.”
“Jimmy Beetles knows Cash,” Molly said softly. Her blood gave a leap in her veins, her pulse blipping.
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