Scotty pinched the bridge of his nose. “I figured I’d give you some space. I know this”—he gestured between them and to her friends—“wasn’t expected.”
“So…not moving out.” You didn’t live with someone for a decade and not know how they handled things. Scotty wouldn’t move out. Scotty would continue to rely on her parents. Scotty wouldn’t understand that there was something wrong with that.
“Of course, I’m not moving, this is my home. We went over this earlier on the patio.”
“Where are you goin’?” Eli asked like that was the most important question. “Is it a trip?”
“Yeah, Scotty, where are you going?” Kellie moved in to flank Marlee on the right. Sadie was on her left. Becca right behind. And Eli? A vein in his forehead pulsed in a way that probably wasn’t super healthy.
“We’re all so curious,” Becca said over a mouthful of bacon. Scotty hated it when people talked with their mouth full. Total pet peeve.
“Leelee.” Scotty tilted his head toward his office-turned-bedroom. “A minute.”
“Don’t do it, Marlee.” Sadie linked her arm with Marlee’s. “He can say, right here, where he’s going.”
Scotty looked between all of them and then at Lothario, who currently ignored him and, instead, eyeballed Eli’s shoe. “Your parents offered me their condo in St. Lucia.”
Another knife pierced her heart. “You mean the one where we were going to spend our honeymoon?”
He pinched his lips together. “It’s not like that.”
“That’s a little cliché, Scotty.” Becca had swallowed the bacon. “Even for you.”
Scotty opened his mouth to reply. Then he shut it without a word coming out.
“By ‘offered,’ you mean you asked them if you could stay there?” It wasn’t like Marlee didn’t know how Scotty worked. And she knew her parents even better. Scotty had gone to their place, told them he’d broken it off, and asked if he could use their condo. They’d said yes, so he’d grabbed a venti caramel latte from Starbucks, drank it on the café patio, and then returned home in time for the impromptu pancake party.
“Leelee, I know you’re upset, but this isn’t supposed to—”
“I think you should probably go,” Eli said before Scotty could get the rest out.
“Who are you?” Scotty asked, his forehead scrunching. “Exactly?”
Eli stalked toward him, spatula at the ready. “I’m the caterer. We met when you picked out hand salads and carrot tarts.”
Marlee could tell the instant Scotty remembered. He’d been a bit of a pill the day they’d picked out the hors d'oeuvres. Marlee had insisted he come along, take some part in the wedding planning. He hadn’t wanted to. She’d assumed he just preferred his time on the golf course, but she was now pretty sure it was because he had known the wedding wouldn’t happen.
“And you’re here because…?” Scotty asked, drawing out the last word.
“Because I invited him.” Marlee stepped forward. “And you’re being rude, so you should go.” Her words came out breathier than she wanted them to.
Lothario let out a bark.
“This isn’t how I wanted us to be.” Scotty backed up, palms toward Marlee. “I’ll just grab my suitcase and get out of here.”
His suitcase. His suitcase for their honeymoon. Their honeymoon to start their marriage. Their marriage that would have existed because he’d proposed. He’d proposed because he loved her more. She didn’t move, only vaguely aware that her friends were all there, Scotty was there, and Lothario was barking his little head off.
His alert bark. It took only a moment for her to realize she had been holding her breath. No, not holding it. Her chest had gone tight. A vise around her lungs and throat. She wasn’t pulling air like she should. Her exhale sounded like her esophagus had sprung a leak.
Dammit.
She tried harder to pull a breath.
“Marlee?” Sadie shook her. “Where’s your inhaler?”
Lothario was going bananas.
She pushed against her chest.
“The cabinet with the plates,” she tried to say.
The closest inhaler was in the cabinet. She struggled to say it again, but Scotty grabbed the red tube and held it to Marlee’s lips like he’d done a thousand times before. She inhaled at the exact moment he pressed the cannister, an orchestrated dance she’d have to start doing on her own. She grabbed the container from him, gripping it tight in her palm. “I’ve got it.”
Scotty let go, and for the first time since he’d broken it off, Marlee realized that once upon a time she’d loved him. And he’d always said he loved her more. And there was a time when it wasn’t on autopilot. He’d said it and they’d both believed it.
“Why did you say I was the best thing that ever happened to you?” And now she was crying again. Tears trailed down her cheeks.
He didn’t answer. Only shook his head.
This was the last time, the very last time, she’d ever cry over him. He didn’t deserve her tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.
“Sadie, you’ll watch her? Make sure it doesn’t happen again? She’ll probably need another puff in a minute and then her steroid treatment tonight.” Scotty’s voice was rougher than usual.
Scotty didn’t need to brief them. Marlee could manage this on her own.
“We’ve got this,” Eli replied. Sometime in the middle of everything, he’d picked up Lothario and held him in his grip.
“Then I’ll just…” Scotty shook his head and moved to the office, closing the door behind him.
“So… Vegas?” Sadie linked her arm tighter with Marlee’s.
Marlee nodded.
Yes, Vegas was sounding better and better.
Chapter Four
When Eli had woken up that morning, he’d expected to spend the day prepping the four-course meal for Marlee’s wedding. Nowhere, in any of the many recesses of his brain, had he even considered that he’d end the day with his jean-clad ass on a leather bench seat of a hot-pink Lincoln stretch limousine, a crystal champagne flute in his hand, purple lights flashing over his head, and a chihuahua with his leg in a cast passed out on his sneakers. All while they cruised the Vegas Strip and his baby sister chattered away with her three best friends about all the shit he did not need to know.
“Whatever happened to that guy with the goatee?” Becca asked Sadie.
She flinched and shook her head. “It was a no go.”
“’cause he had that whole foot thing she wasn’t into,” Kellie said as though Eli wasn’t sitting there and they weren’t discussing his little sister.
He shivered at the thought of Sadie and a guy with a goatee or any kind of foot thing.
“I’m right here, ladies.” Eli pointed to his chest.
“Jump right on in anytime.” Kellie leaned over the space between their bench seats and faux whispered in his personal space, “You’re just one of the girls this weekend.”
And wasn’t that fun?
“When did that happen with Goatee Guy? I thought you two were trying to make it work?” Marlee was in her element with her girlfriends, all thoughts of Scotty clearly pushed aside for the trip.
But Eli had been there during her asthma attack, had a first-row seat to Scotty jumping right in to help her, and the look in Marlee’s eyes when it registered that what they had was ending. All the declarations from before breakfast about her being over him dissolved like an antacid in a tall glass of bubbly. Marlee had put on a good front, recovered from the slip quickly, Eli gave her that. But he could see Scotty’s damage. And he was pretty sure Scotty saw it, too. Not that he felt bad for the guy—but he’d looked like Lothario must’ve when the bike tire got him.
Eli tossed back the exceptionally expensive champagne in his glass.
He shouldn’t have crashed the girls’ weekend. But at the same time, he didn’t want to end up on a twelve-hour emergency drive to bail them out of trouble when the call came in. Sadie m
ight be a successful attorney these days, Kellie an accountant, Becca a—what the hell did Becca do for work?—but when the four of them all got together, they had a history of not making the best choices.
Case in point? Three years ago, they’d all decided to go zip-lining for their semiannual meet-up and not one of them had considered filling the gas tank before heading up to Idaho Springs. The whole batch of them got stuck on the side of the mountain, and he’d been the one on call to bring Marlee’s Jaguar F-Pace a fresh tank of gasoline. Or—and he still had no idea how this one even happened—two years ago when Marlee and Kellie had managed to handcuff themselves together using Kellie’s then cop-boyfriend’s work-issued handcuffs. Becca had swallowed the key, for reasons still unknown. Eli had ended up sawing off the bracelets with a hacksaw.
Yep, these girls in Sin City required on-site supervision.
Also, the four of them hadn’t given him any choice in his attendance. Marlee had booked his ticket before he’d given the A-OK.
Marlee leaned over and refilled his glass of bubbly. “Don’t you look reflective.”
“Thinking of all the times I’ve had to bail out your asses over the years.” Thank fuck they only got together twice a year. Well, three times this year since Marlee had the whole wedding shindig going on.
“You love us.” Marlee maneuvered herself to sit next to him.
Even though Marlee was from old money in Denver, her parents had believed attending public school for a few years would be good for her. Show her that it’s not all about a bank account. That’s how she’d met her friends. They’d spent their teenage years getting into trouble together, and he’d bet her parents rethought that stance on public school more than once throughout those years. But by that time, it’d been too late.
“What would you do without us keeping you on your toes?” Marlee asked.
“I would read a book, Mar.” He took the most masculine sip of fizzy booze that he could manage. “Maybe take up golf.”
She flinched. Golf was Scotty’s game.
Shit.
“I would’ve hated the golf, so you saved me from that.” He tried for recovery.
“At least there’s good champagne.” She held up the cloth napkin–wrapped bottle, little rivulets of condensation soaking the black label underneath her manicured thumb.
Eli really would’ve preferred a beer. Or a couple fingers of whiskey. But Marlee didn’t skimp, and he was personally affronted by anyone who would let good Dom Pérignon go to waste.
His phone buzzed beside him.
Jase.
Eli glanced over the message. His buddy Jase had an engagement party coming up next week. Since his fiancée was out with her girls, Jase wanted to know if Eli could hang out at their other buddy’s—Brek’s—bar that night. Yes, Eli wanted to. He sagged in the seat, tilted his head toward the ceiling of the car, and stared at the purple lights above. He’d made his Vegas bed when he shoved his duffle bag into the overhead compartment and sat his ass in one of the first-class seats Marlee had splurged on for all of them.
He tossed back the rest of his champagne and held it out to Marlee for a refill.
She didn’t hesitate.
“You know what we should do?” Sadie asked. “We should play the game we made up that time in Cabo. Remember?”
“The dare game.” Becca squealed. “I forgot about that. Let’s do it.”
“This game sounds like it’s going to end with one, or all, of us making regrettable decisions.” Eli balanced the flute of champagne on his knee.
“Of course, it will.” Becca topped off her champagne. “That’s the point. Marlee needs to loosen up after the day she’s had.”
“And we literally packed up all of her possessions in less than two hours,” Kellie chimed in. “So, I think, we all need a bit of fun.”
“That wasn’t all of my possessions,” Marlee said with a huff.
“Enough of them that we deserve some unwind time,” Kellie amended.
“Okay, so”—Marlee flashed a pair of jazz hands—“I’ve been thinking. Since Scotty is out of the picture, I need to get my life back together. Step one, come to Vegas.”
“Step two, play the dare game.” Becca lifted her cup.
“What’s step three?” Eli asked, more than a little afraid of the answer.
“Step three is to be determined.” Marlee nodded like she was totally in charge of her life.
Becca poured more champagne, listing a bit to the right. “I like getting Marlee’s life back together. We should get her life back together every few months.”
“Who’s going to go first?” Sadie’s gaze shifted between all of them, landing on Eli. “Boys first.”
“I don’t even know how to play the game.” And he would bet he was better off for it.
Becca’s cheeks were already a tad drunk-flushed. “It’s easy. You just dare one of us to do something. Then we do it.”
Well, that was a stupid game.
“It’s like truth or dare, but no truth questions.” Marlee leaned in, poking him with her elbow. “Unless you want truth questions instead. It’s been awhile since we played. We can make new rules.”
“I dare any of you?” Eli asked. “Anything I want?”
“And when that person is done, they dare someone else.” Becca dug through the limo’s minibar.
This game might actually work out okay if he played it right. “I dare all of you to leave me at the hotel with a six-pack of beer and free cable while you spend the next few hours at the spa.” The Broncos were playing. He could still catch the game. And the girls could have their fun at a spa—they’d spent a large portion of the flight detailing all they wanted to get done there. Win. Win. Win. And no one had to hit the craps table.
“No.” Marlee dropped the bottle of champagne in the silver bucket beside the minibar. “Since I’m the jilted bride, I reserve the right to veto any and all dares.”
“It’s true,” Sadie said over a sip of Dom. “I think we wrote that in the rules when we first played.”
“You”—Eli pointed a finger at her—“lie.”
“Maybe, but we haven’t added the truth portion of the game.” Sadie shrugged.
“New rule. Since Eli’s dare was rejected by Marlee, he has to answer a question.” Becca was having way too much fun making up rules to a nonexistent game.
“I have one.” Sadie winked at him. “What’s your beef with relationships?”
They were going to play all their cards right up front then.
“I don’t have any beef with relationships.” Question answered. Onward.
“That’s not true. You have to tell the truth.” Sadie shook her head slowly.
“You have to tell the truth or we all get a question,” Becca said, a bundle of cheer and made-up rules.
“I’ll go next,” Kellie said. “Why aren’t you ever in relationships if you don’t have any beef with them?”
“I already answered my question.” He poured himself another glass. Looked like he’d need it. “No more questions.”
“We all get a question,” Marlee announced. “Marlee’s trip, Marlee’s rules.”
“I don’t like this game.” Eli leveled a glare at his sister, hoping maybe blood would run thicker than champagne and she would take his side on this.
“Don’t look at me, bud.” Sadie pinched her lips into a thin smile. She was enjoying this way too much.
Marlee rolled her eyes and made a sour face. “There has to be some benefit to all the crap that happened today.”
They wanted to know why he didn’t do the commitment thing? He didn’t do relationships because he didn’t do long term. He didn’t do long term because he didn’t want anyone to rely on him. He’d done that dance and had the permanent bruises stomped onto his feet to prove it. He didn’t have any desire for a repeat. Things worked out better when it was just number one and number one alone. He did what he wanted. Came and went when he wanted. And no one was there to tell him
he should do things differently.
With four pairs of eyes trained on him, he decided to go with the easiest dodge he could find. “I’ve just never met anyone worth the effort.”
Partially true. Not a lie. But also not the entire truth.
“Okay, my question next,” Marlee announced. “If you had to shag one of us, which one would it be and why? Sadie is excluded from the scenario, for obvious reasons.”
Eli met Marlee’s gaze, a fire sparking in her eyes. It may have only been a question, but it sure as hell felt like a dare. “All of you. Can’t pick just one, it wouldn’t be fair.”
Sadie snorted.
“Eli is the worst at this game,” Becca huffed. “New rule, let’s move on.”
Let’s move on was a rule? How was that a rule?
“I’ll go next. Since he picked me to shag.” Kellie rubbed her hands together like she was about to have a lot of fun with this one.
“I picked all of you.” Eli leaned back against the leather seat as they pulled up to the Bellagio, the champagne bubbling through his bloodstream.
“But we know you meant me.” Kellie leaned forward to pat his leg. “I’m going to dare Marlee.”
Kellie didn’t get further than that before the limo reached the bell station.
A bellman opened the door to let them escape the confines of the dare-ridden limousine. And not a moment too soon.
“Ms. Medford?” he asked.
“That’s me.” Marlee lifted a sleepy Lothario, tucking him in her handbag. His head stuck out over the top as she slid from the vehicle. “I’m the perpetual Ms. Medford.”
“Welcome to the Bellagio.” The bellman held his hand out to help her steady herself on those insane platform heels. “The penthouse is ready for you and your guests.”
Marlee had reserved the penthouse for them?
Of course, she had. She was Marlee.
“Kellie?” Marlee asked once they were all out of the limo and headed inside the marble lobby. “Let’s get this party started.” She turned to her friend. “Present your dare.”
Those were usually famous last words, but he was there to ensure, this time, they wouldn’t be.
Just the Tip of the Iceberg: Mile High Matched Books 1-3 Page 52