by Abby Brooks
I sigh and do just that, choosing a strapless dress that won’t rub on the new tattoo on my shoulder and send a mental thank you to whichever sister had the good idea of sending it. I touch up my hair and makeup and before I know it, we’re down in the casino, drinks in hand, wasting money on the slot machines and black jack. We lose more than we win, but since it’s not really our money we’re not all that concerned about it. We just laugh and flirt and he keeps touching me in ways that make me shiver.
After a few hours, I’ve had all I can take. “You ready to go?” I ask, running my hand up his arm.
“Are you?” He smiles down at me and the look on his face says he knows just how ready I am.
I nod. “Mmm-hmm.”
“We’ve got just about two grand in chips left. What should we do about that?” Wow. I guess we won more than we lost. I wasn’t prepared for that much.
I point at the Roulette table. “Bet it all.”
His eyebrows spring into his hairline. “All of it?”
“Why not? Maybe we’ll get lucky.” I meant it as innuendo. I meant him to smirk and make some silly joke about getting lucky upstairs in our room. I was not prepared for him to saunter up to the damn table and bet it all on a single number. Black twenty-five. I should have known better. After all, this is Dominic Kane, the man who travels the world with little more than a backpack and a destination.
I watch the wheel spin. The ball clicks its way over the numbers while my heart thunders in my chest. The wheel slows. I watch the ball speed past our number. The wheel slows some more. And holy shit, the ball settles right into fucking number twenty-five. I scream and jump up and down, thrilled to have won, even though I don’t really know what it means.
I’m clutching at Dominic’s arm while the people around us lose their ever-living minds and he just stares at me with a blank face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Just trying to do the math.” His eyes are a million miles away and I swear I can feel his pulse through the fabric of his shirt. “The odds are thirty-five to one.” He wets his lips and shakes his head. “I think we just won close to seventy thousand dollars.”
My breath leaves my lungs in rush and I don’t think I’m going to be able to get enough oxygen. “You’re fucking kidding me?”
The next few hours are perhaps the most confusing few hours of my life. We’re ushered to a room where Dominic has to fill out a tax form. They ask him if they’d like his money as a check or in cash. He chooses cash and I’m almost disappointed to see how small the stack is when they bring it to us. Not that it’s small, it just isn’t the briefcase-sized pile of money I expected. The fact that it all fits in my slightly over-sized purse is kind of doing a number on my head right now
Before I know it, we’re being comped a dinner at the fanciest restaurant in the resort, complete with a bottle of champagne I just know is probably worth at least three months’ rent back home in Townsbury.
Neither one of us can believe what just happened. We eat our exquisite dinner—I couldn’t even tell you how it tasted—alternating between periods of stunned silence and frantic conversation. It’s like an out of body experience.
“What do you want to do with it?” I ask for like the hundredth time.
“I don’t know,” he answers as he has since we sat down. “I mean,” he continues, to my utter shock. “We could just save it. Use it for a hotel when we end up somewhere without a place to stay. Or we could blow it. I’m sure it wouldn’t take long, in a place like this.” He waves around the restaurant and I assume he means Vegas in general. “Or, we could make a deposit on some land and look into building that shipping container home you were telling me about.”
My heart leaps. Ever since I saw an article about people repurposing old shipping containers and turning them into self-sufficient homes, I’ve wanted to build one for myself. Maybe invest in some solar panels, figure out a rain catchment system. Just go off grid and live my funky little life my own way. Dominic was the only person I told that little daydream to who didn’t laugh at me.
“Yeah,” I say and take a sip of the champagne. The bubbles tickle my nose and I smile. “We’d never really be there, right? I mean, how frequently do you ever stay in one place.”
“It’d be a place to go that’s ours. A home base.” Dominic licks his lips, thinking.
“It’s a nice thought,” I say. “But I’m sure we can come up with better ways to spend the money.”
Dominic finishes his champagne and leans back in his chair, draping his arm over the back. “We don’t have to decide right now. We’ve got time to think about it.”
“I still can’t believe it,” I say and check that my purse is still hugged close to my body. We debated about whether or not to leave the money up in the room, but neither one of us was ready to be parted from it yet. I’m not sure we made the right decision because I’m a wreck knowing there’s over three years’ worth of my yearly salary in my purse.
Dominic shakes his head. “Me neither.” He leans in, elbows on the table, eyes burning into mine. “Are you ready to go upstairs and celebrate?”
He doesn’t need to ask me twice. I’ve been ready all night.
Chapter Eight
When I wake up, the first thing I think about is seventy thousand dollars sitting in my purse and I’m not sure where I left it. I spring upright, eyes wide. A quick scan of the room shows me that my purse is not here, but neither are our clothes, so that’s not saying much. I swim through convoluted images of last night, memories twisted by champagne and exhaustion. I’m pretty damn sure I had my purse on my shoulder in the elevator last night.
“What’s wrong,” murmurs Dominic, stretching out, his body sliding across the sheets.
“I don’t remember where I put my purse.” Panic tightens my chest and I swing my legs off the bed and my hands up into my hair.
Dominic props himself up on his elbow. “You dropped it on the floor in the living room, remember? Right before you sucked my dick in your lingerie and heels.” A crooked smile slides across his face and he runs his hand through his hair before he collapses back onto his pillow. “Come back to bed.”
“I will,” I say as I stand. “I just need to know that the money and the purse are out there.” My pulse races as I glide from the room. I’ll tell you what, adrenaline is way better than coffee to get you moving in the morning.
“Dakota…” Dominic slides out of bed and follows me out of the room.
I find the purse laying on its side half under an end table and snatch it up, rip it open, and finally take a breath when I see the money safely tucked inside. “Oh, thank goodness,” I say in one long rush of words.
Dominic pulls me into his arms, the purse smashed between us. “What did you think was going to happen to it?”
“I don’t know. Something. Anything. It just feels terribly careless to have this much money hanging out in a purse on the floor.”
“Even though the money is in a sealed envelope, in a zipped purse, in a locked room?”
“I mean, if all those things were true, then sure. It’s a little less careless. But we’d been drinking all day. I know I was exhausted. What if we only thought those things were true? What if we hadn’t locked the door? What if a maid found out about us winning and grabbed a key? I mean, there’s so many things that could have gone wrong.”
Dominic leads me over to the little table near the window and sits me down before heading over to make us some coffee. “Will it make you feel better or worse if we just keep it in your purse today rather than the safe?”
My eyes about pop out of my head. “Are you kidding me? Do you really think I could walk around with a fortune in my purse and not end up having a panic attack? This is seriously more money than I would make in two years working at the bar.”
“But just think how powerful you’d feel.” Dominic winks at me as he turns on the coffee pot. “Walking around with a small fortune slung over your shoulder. We could
even get married with it.”
I laugh because the thought of it is kind of wonderful if not utterly and completely terrifying. Wrap that up with the thought that I’m actually going to marry Dominic Kane today and I’m suddenly beaming. “No,” I say, shaking my head and flaring my hands. “I think the safe is the best place for the money today.”
Dominic pours us each a cup of coffee and then has a seat next to me. “Have you thought about what you want to do with the money?”
“I really haven’t. You had me somewhat preoccupied last night.” I blow on my coffee. “Besides. It’s your money. You won it. I don’t really think it’s up to me.”
Dominic furrows his brow. “We’re going to be married today. Husband and wife. That’s our money, Dakota.”
“Wow.” I sit back in my chair. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Well you better believe it. It’s about to get real here in the next couple hours.” Dominic takes a careful drink and then sets his mug down on the table, his hands furrowed around it, his gaze locked on the dark liquid inside. “I have been thinking about it.” He looks at me and smiles. “It would be great to spend all the money while we’re here. Just go crazy. I mean, our whole relationship is built on spontaneity, you know?”
I nod, trying not to show the faint turn of disappointment in my stomach. Yes, it would be a lot of fun to spend all the money on nonsense. And probably more practical than building a shipping container house given our nomadic lifestyle. “That’s very true,” I say, amping up my smile.
“But…” Dominic glances at me. “And bear with me here.” He swallows hard and I’m suddenly very nervous. “As fun as it would be to go crazy … as us as it would be … I kind of want to invest in our future. There’s something really appealing about the thought of building something permanent for us.”
“Are you saying want to build a shipping container house?” There’s no way I can conceal how excited I am right now.
“I think I do. I know how important your family is to you and it seems like it would be good to have a place to call home near your home. Maybe put down some roots together.” Dominic shrugs and smiles at me.
“I can’t believe you weren’t sure I would love this idea.”
“I mean, I thought you might…” He winks at me and I slap his arm.
“And come on, to us, this might seem totally responsible and as adult as we can get, but how many people are going to hear that we’re building a home out of shipping containers and think gee, that sure is very responsible of them?”
“Does that mean you’re okay with it?”
“Okay? Let’s see. In the space of one weekend I get to quit my bartending job so I can travel the world with the man I love with all of my heart where I will make a living writing—the job I’ve dreamed about having for my entire life. Oh. And I get to marry said wonderful man and we’re going to build my dream home.” I tap my finger against my pursed lips. “Let’s see. Am I okay with this?”
Dominic takes my free hand. “All I ever want to do is make you happy.”
“Good. Done. Mission accomplished.”
We order room service and stuff our faces while wearing fluffy white robes before we shower and get dressed. One of my brilliant sisters packed a white sundress and I pull that one on. It’s super casual compared to the dress I wore yesterday, but that makes it even better. Two totally different experiences that will blend together to make one fan-fucking-tastic memory.
“There’s so much more I wanted to show you before the end of the weekend,” Dominic says as he pulls on a pair of black slacks that hug his delicious ass so perfectly I just want to slap it. So I do.
Which, of course, sets him off chasing me around the suite while I laugh and shriek. When he catches me, he slings me over his shoulder and carries me right back into the bedroom, slapping my ass the whole way. “There’s only one person who gets to do the spanking around here,” he says. “And it’s not you.”
I’m laughing so hard I can barely breath. “Says you.” We kiss and it holds the promise of so many things. A life together spent laughing and exploring. A friendship that continues to bloom and evolve over the long years of our life.
“Are you ready?” asks Dominic, his voice thick with emotion.
“Totally.”
We lock the money in the safe and head out the door, hands interlocked. While we wait for the elevator, Dominic leans over and bumps his shoulder against mine. I look up at him, confused.
“A kiss,” he says and smiles.
The birds. Our tattoos. Emotion wells up inside me and tears prick my eyes. I reach up, grab his face, and pull his lips to mine. “A kiss,” I say against his mouth.
The wedding is as silly and over the top as I could have hoped for and I spend the entire ceremony giggling out of sheer happiness. By the time we slip the rings on each other’s fingers and the worst Elvis impersonator ever announces us as husband and wife, tears stream down my face and I can’t stop smiling. And the kiss. Holy shit, the way Dominic kisses me, claiming me as his for the rest of forever.
If this weekend is any indication of what the rest of our life will be like, then there’s no doubt in my mind that we will live happily ever after. Forever and ever. Amen.
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Brookside Romance
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Inevitably You
Lexi’s story (Title and release date coming soon!)
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The Moores Series
Blown Away (Ian and Juliet)
Carried Away (James and Ellie)
Swept Away (Harry and Willow)
Break Away (Lilah and Cole)
Purely Wicked (Ashely & Jackson)
Love Is…
Love Is Crazy (Dakota & Dominic)
Love Is Beautiful (Chelsea & Max)
Love Is Everything (Maya & Hudson)
Love Is Beautiful
Max & Chelsea
Copyright © 2016 by Abby Brooks
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For Bill. My everything.
Chapter One
I never speed. Like never, ever. I am such a serial rule follower that the idea of breaking even a simple law like the speed limit makes my eye start to twitch. So, the fact that right now I'm flying down the highway going just a little too fast…
Okay…
A lot too fast.
And the fact that I’m swerving in and out of traffic like I think I’m a professional race car driver or something … well … let’s just say I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel. Clutching it so hard I might pull the damn thing right off.
People honk at me as I veer from lane to lane. Normally I would be totally offended, but this morning I just hold up my hand in apology and grimace each time they do.
I know I’m being a complete asshole.
But I'm late for work. And just like I never speed, I’m never late for work.
Like, never ever.
And of all the days for me to be late, it had to be this one. Today is too busy for me to be dealing with any of this. While I live in a small town out in the middle of nowhere, I work for a large sports medicine and orthopedic center in Cincinnati as a physical therapist. Well, kind of the physical therapist.
Wait.
That came out wrong.
I’m not the only one working there. God, no. There are tons of us.
But I am the one who gets all the big names. You know, people like injured athletes from the Bengals and the Reds and the dancers from the Cincinnati Ballet. I’m also the one who gets the most requests from new patients and I have a waiting list a mile long.
My sisters say that I excel at excelling and while I always laugh and try to brush it off, deep down, I love that they feel that way about me. They think it just comes easily to me, being as successful as I am. They have no idea how hard I work for what I have. But, for the most part, knowing they think so highly of me makes all the long nights kept awake worrying about the millions of things I have on my to do list a little more tolerable.
Anyway, last night I was up for hours worrying about today because it’s a busy one, that’s for sure. By the time I fell asleep, I would have been better off just staying awake until my alarm went off. Maybe then I would have realized that my phone wasn’t on the charger and had died at some point during the night. Maybe then I wouldn’t be late for work. Maybe then I wouldn’t be speeding.
But I am late.
And I am speeding.
And at this point, the only thing left for me to do is admit that the morning is shot and focus on making the best of the rest of today. My first client is one of those big name clients of mine. Hudson Knox, an up and coming pro-football player, recruited by the Bengals only to rupture his Achilles tendon early in the pre-season. I know I can get him rehabbed and back on the field better than ever. I’ve made it my mission to make sure this injury isn’t a career ender. Hence the late nights, researching the latest and greatest information on the most successful Achilles tendon rehabilitations.
My second client? A newbie. Just some guy with a knee injury—a meniscal tear that shouldn’t be too hard to get patched up. And after him? A stream of long term clients that I want to get back on their feet and back into life.