“Enough already. You don’t have time to overanalyze all this,” she muttered to herself. “Just get your butt in the shower.”
It’d all work out. Whatever fate intended. Brandy pulled off her shirt and climbed into the stall. She tilted her head and pursed her lips. Then again, maybe people created their own fate.
“A buffet?”
“I’m starving.” Marco grinned and gestured for her to go into the restaurant first. “I tend to avoid the Strip at all costs. But if I’m coming down here anyway and plan to eat, I occasionally swing by one.”
He gave the cashier his credit card and ignored Brandy’s protests. Maybe she did have money, but that didn’t mean he’d let her pick up the tab when they went out.
“I’m buying next time,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
“Deal.”
The hostess led them to a table and gave them instructions on how the buffet worked. Brandy seemed to be hanging on her every word.
Had she never been to a buffet? He pursed his lips as he watched her. He got the feeling this would be another first for her.
When the hostess walked away, Brandy turned to him, her brow furrowed and her mouth parted. Clearly she was a bit overwhelmed.
“There’s so much food,” she finally said.
He laughed. “I’m going to take a wild guess here. You’ve never been to a buffet?”
Her expression relaxed and she gave a slight shrug. “No. I’ve never been to a buffet.”
“Come on, it’s easy.” He grabbed her hand and led her over to where the plates were stacked high. He picked one up and handed it to her. “First you take one of these.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thank goodness you’re here. I never would never have figured that part out on my own.”
“Sarcasm becomes you.” He picked up his own plate. “And next…”
“Next?”
“You fill your plate with everything and anything you want to eat.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And then you do it again. And again and again. Until you need a forklift to get out the door. Or you barf.”
“Holy crap. No wonder my mom said these places were the devil.” She walked past him, eyeing the food with open excitement.
Christ. What kind of person had never been to a buffet? He didn’t know whether to pity her or roll over in shock. Maybe both. And interesting that she’d dropped a diluted curse from her lips.
Leaving her to explore on her own, he went to load up his own plate. Meat. Meat. Eggs. More meat. He started to head back to the table and hesitated at his one weakness. Grabbing a gooey chocolate doughnut, he squeezed it onto his plate.
Their table was still empty. Brandy still eyed all her choices with the same intensity and consideration put into picking out a wedding ring.
Wedding ring. His own thoughts sent a sharp reminder through him of exactly who she was. A rich runaway bride. Meaning he still needed to tread carefully.
Funny how quickly she’d grown on him. Quirky habits and bad clothing be damned.
He settled at the table and ordered a coffee from the waitress when she came by, then asked for a tea for Brandy.
“Okay. I did it.”
He looked up, a bite of ham dangling from his fork. Brandy stood before him, grinning like she’d just won an Oscar.
“Good job. What did you get?”
She slid into her chair and set her plate down. One waffle covered in strawberries lay on her plate.
He lifted his gaze to hers. “That’s it?”
“That’s all I wanted.” She grabbed her knife and fork and sliced a piece, lifting it to her mouth.
She closed her eyes and made a small moan of approval. The same kind of moan he’d bet she’d make if someone was going d—
“This is so good.” Her tongue swept across her lip before she took another bite.
His grip on the fork tightened and he forced his attention back to his own plate.
“So did you always want to open a bar?” she asked.
The sudden question threw him. It brought him back to his life and what it had been just a couple of years ago. His throat tightened and suddenly the food he was eating didn’t seem quite as awesome.
“No. The concept for a bar was more of a recent idea…”
“What were you before? A tattoo artist or something?” She grinned and nodded her chin at his arm. “I love your dragon by the way.”
“Thanks.” A tattoo artist? If she only knew. Maybe that’s why she didn’t seem in any hurry to go off on her own. Maybe the sweet, conservative choir teacher considered herself to be exploring her wild side by slumming with the guys who owned a bar. Lord if she only knew that just two years ago most of his days had been spent in a suit and tie—
“Your tea.”
They both turned their attention to the waitress who set down a steaming cup of tea in front of Brandy.
“Oh. Thank you.” The pleasure on Brandy’s face was evident. “You sure are figuring me out.”
Relieved that the subject had shifted from his past, he offered an amused shrug.
“You made it pretty clear yesterday morning you weren’t a coffee girl.”
“No. You’re right. I’m certainly not.” She went back to her waffle and nodded over at his plate. “Okay. You’ve thrown me. You’ve got like every edible animal on your plate. No hash browns, toast or pancakes. I mean, I’d guess you were doing low carb or something—”
“Or just a guy.”
“Okay–or a guy. But, what’s with the doughnut then?”
At the mention of the sweet treat, he picked it up and licked a bit of chocolate from the side.
“I mean doughnuts are so…” Her words trailed off and her gaze slid to his mouth as he licked the doughnut again. “Sweet.”
Interesting. Was she still a bit hot and bothered this morning? He allowed a slight smile. It’d be nice if she was, so they would be on the same level.
“Comfort food,” he finally answered. “When I was a kid my dad used to bring us doughnuts for breakfast every Saturday morning.”
“Ah, that’s sweet. I was given protein shakes by my nanny.”
He saw the flicker of sadness in her eyes before she looked down at her plate. What had her childhood been like? What had Brandy been like pint-sized?
“Do you have any brother or sisters?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Just me. Which is why I’m the…” She bit her lip, obviously deciding not to finish what she’d been about to say. “It’s just me. How about you?”
“I have a younger sister.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Her expression turned wistful as she ate the last bit of her waffle. “That must’ve been great.”
“It was.”
It had been great in some way. His family had been close, but then they’d lived in a two bedroom apartment in the bad part of town. Money had been tight.
He drew in a slow, unsteady breath and closed his eyes for a moment. God, he missed them. The need to see his dad and sister again came on so strong that it replaced every other urge. But he tapped it down. Just like he always did.
It just wouldn’t happen. Things had changed when he had. When Marco had told them what his future plans were, the disappointment in his dad’s eyes had said it all.
“You know, I almost want another waffle.”
He lifted his head, tearing his thoughts out of his painful past. “So go grab one. Get your money’s worth.”
She patted her stomach and grimaced. “I’d better not. I’m pretty much full. Besides, later today I want to try one of those burgers at your place.”
“Yeah, you sure as hell do,” he agreed, finishing off the rest of the doughnut and then grabbing his last piece of bacon.
Good thing he didn’t always eat like this. He’d be the poster child for heart disease by the time he hit twenty-nine in a few months.
“So what do you have to do in Vegas today?” she asked, sipping her tea.
&nb
sp; “I promised I’d drop off the last paycheck to the waitress who just quit.”
“That’s awfully nice of you. You’re such a good boss.”
“Careful, you’ve only worked for me for one day. And I wasn’t nice to you for most of it. Let’s see if you’re still saying that in a week,” he teased, even though he knew the chances of her being there in a week were slim.
“Are you ready to head out?” she asked a few minutes later. “Or were you going to get more to eat?”
“I’m done.” He tossed his napkin on the table and stood up.
“Thanks for breakfast. That was probably the best waffle I’ve had in my life,” she said as they walked out of the casino and moved down the Strip.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I did. I—oh my God!” She gasped and turned around, grabbing his shirt. “Hurry and kiss me.”
“Wait, what?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” She tugged on his shirt, pulling him forward as her mouth slammed against his. “Gordon.” The word came out muffled between their tightly-pressed lips.
Surprise rendered him immobile. It took a second for him to realize she hadn’t been calling him Gordon, but warning him that the man was nearby.
But even that took a lot of thought. It was hard to focus beyond the caress of her soft lips against his.
“Grab my hair. Bunch it up in your fist so it isn’t recognizable,” she whispered against his mouth.
He complied, eagerly delving his fingers into her soft curls and tugging her head back. The move gave him deeper access to her mouth, and the soft little moan she made had him silently applauding her acting skills.
Her tongue seemed hesitant as it slipped into his mouth, but her arms were confident as they slid around his back to clutch him to her.
He took over, deepening the kiss. The sweetness of her mouth was beyond tempting. The taste of strawberries and syrup was intoxicating against his tongue.
The kiss may have started as a way to disguise Brandy, but it turned into something completely different. It was the hottest kiss he’d experienced in God knew how long.
He wanted to slide his hand up her shirt again. Touch that lace bra. But damn they were in public. Again.
Tonight. After work, he’d have her. No more excuses or denying it. They wanted each other, so why the hell fight it anymore?
“Brandy.” He lifted his mouth slightly, but didn’t pull away from her.
“Mmm.” She didn’t open her eyes, instead brushed her lips against his more.
“I think he’s gone.”
“What?” Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked around. Her cheeks turned pink. “Oh, yes. Yes, he is.”
He knew he should release her and step back, but somehow it seemed so right having her in his arms, holding her like this. Even if they were standing on the sidewalk in the middle of Las Vegas. Hell, worse sins had probably occurred.
“You need to talk to him, Brandy.”
He wanted to kick himself the minute the words were out. The last thing he wanted was for her to chat it up with the reality star ex-fiancé.
“You don’t know Gordon.” She shook her head. “He’s too persuasive. He’s got the charisma of a snake charmer. He’d have me saying I do before I know what I really want.”
“How long were you engaged?”
She laughed and pressed a hand against her forehead. “Like three hours.”
Interesting. “Spontaneous Vegas wedding, huh?”
“To say the least.”
He let go of her hair and her arms unwound from his waist. He immediately missed the warmth of her soft body against him.
Christ, she was so sexy. A ball of fire and passion, an untapped, undiscovered treasure of a woman buried beneath some profoundly bad clothing.
And I found her. Never had he considered himself romantic, but tonight, he wanted it to be special. He’d bring home a bottle of wine, maybe put on some Kings of Leon—
“Sorry about that,” she said and then sighed. “I don’t mean to drag you into all this.”
“You’re fine.” He smoothed a stray curl off her forehead. “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, we should go. We’ve got a lot to do today.”
She nodded, disappointment flickering in her eyes. Did she think he wasn’t interested? He bit back a grin. Wouldn’t she be surprised tonight?
Watch it, buddy, you’re acting like a teenage boy with a crush on his teacher. Which, in a way could be kind of an adequate description. She was older, barely, and she did teach.
He stepped back and drew in a deep breath. “Let’s head out.”
Gordon sped walked down the sidewalk, his manicured nails biting into his palms. Sweat beaded his forehead and he shook his head.
Goddamn it, nothing had helped. Going on the local news had produced no results. It was like Brandy had upped and disappeared off the fucking planet.
A second ago, he’d almost been convinced she’d been across the street. Making out with some tattooed guy, but then he’d realized he’d just been seeing what he wanted to see.
She’s gone. And you have to find out where. Obviously she was a bit traumatized after seeing him with the hooker, but hell, he hadn’t thought she’d go into hiding this long.
Her cell phone had been turned off and she hadn’t gone to her parents’ house. He’d driven back to L.A. and passed by their house multiple times. No sign of her there or at her own place. And he’d gone to her place—used the key she’d given him and searched for any trace that she’d been there. Had even hit redial on her phone to see the last person she’d called. It had only been the local library. Boring little bitch.
The last thing he wanted to do was get her parents involved, but hell, if he couldn’t find her soon he just might have to. Unfortunately, Brandy’s parents had never been one-hundred-percent thrilled by his presence in their daughter’s life.
Smart parents. Too damn smart. But then that was why they were billionaires and he wasn’t.
Like it or not, though, he was going to have to employ them for help in finding her. He’d still keep the details of what had preceded her running off quiet. There’d be no mention of the attempted wedding, or the shitty events that had unfolded in the hours after.
They’d go straight to the media, and maybe if she saw her parents on television she’d come up for air.
And when she did…fuck. He’d think of something. But he’d get her down the damn aisle if he had to carry the fat bitch.
Chapter Six
“Are you hungry?”
Brandy looked up from the bar stool and frowned. “Didn’t we just eat?”
Marco wiped down the counter with a rag and checked the time.
“Three hours ago. And you just had that waffle.”
“Give me a few more minutes to get my stomach up to speed again.”
“Whatever you want.” He moved to the other end of the bar, organizing and cleaning.
Hmm, she still had five hours before her shift. What was she going to do? Shopping had been on her agenda originally.
If she had to wear this recycled outfit one more day, she was going to chuck it into the nearest trashcan. And this was her favorite shirt, so it would have killed her to do it.
But then part of her was more than content to just sit and stare at Marco for those five hours. Just being in his presence made her palms a little damp and her knees a little weak.
No, she’d be perfectly content to just sit and stare at the man who had her heart and hormones going into overdrive. Of course she hadn’t confessed that last part to him. Though he’d have to be blind not to have realized it.
What had happened last night had been a first for her. The desire she’d felt when he’d touched her, kissed her. Even being beyond exhausted by the end of the night, she’d lain in the marijuana-scented bedroom of Marco’s roommate and thought about Marco and those amazing moments on the bike.
She snapped out of her reverie and wa
tched Marco walk around the bar checking in with the few customers that were there.
It was barely noon and there weren’t many of them. Just a few that came in for the lunch more than the alcohol.
Brandy swung her feet against the stool she sat on at the bar, watching as he walked back towards her.
His expression turned surprisingly gentle. “You didn’t have to come in this early with me, you know.”
“I know. You told me last night and again this morning. And as I told you before, I don’t mind hanging out. So long as you don’t mind me here,” she rushed to add.
He gave a soft laugh. “I don’t mind in the least. I’ve kind of gotten used to having you around.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Not at all.”
Her blood warmed ridiculously with pleasure. “Okay. I’ll take that burger now.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I’ll have Dave whip you up one. You want cheese on it?”
“Yes, please, and lots of mayonnaise.”
“All right, princess. Be back in second.”
He disappeared into the kitchen and she braced her elbows on the bar, humming along to an old Steve Miller song that filtered out from the speakers in the bar.
The front door to the bar swung open, letting a band of light in. A woman was silhouetted for a second in the doorframe. She stepped inside and the door slammed shut behind her. She strode across the floor with a purpose, and Brandy stared at the woman with open amazement.
She had a Bettie Page-style haircut, only it was dyed purple. Her nose was pierced and she wore the shortest excuse for a dress Brandy had ever seen. The lace neckline somehow managed to make it look demure and crass at the same time. She was like a slutty Stepford Wife.
“Hello,” Brandy called out.
The woman stopped for the briefest second to say hi and give her a curious look. Then she continued walking and disappeared behind the bar and into the back.
Hmm. Who was that? Could it be that Valerie girl they’d been talking about? Somehow when they’d said the name Val, she’d gotten more of a cute little coed image. But this worked too. In fact, it was a whole lot more interesting.
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