I elbow him. “I meant you.”
We’re both wearing sunglasses, and he glances away from me. I take the moment to study him. He’s a broody, grumpy, really, really freaking hot bad boy pro football star.
And I’m his little sister’s best friend and new live-in nanny.
And after his little sexual innuendo earlier…the idea of sex is front and center in my brain.
I’m a virgin, not that I’d ever admit that to Dex in a million years or for a million dollars.
I’ve had boyfriends, but none that seemed worthy of something so important. But I’ve held onto it so long now that I sort of just want to get it over with.
You know…with a broody, grumpy, hot bad boy who knowsexactlywhat he’s doing.
Like Dex Bradley.
CHAPTER 8: Dex Bradley
With or Without You
When my father said he wanted to see me, I immediately told him I’d meet him at his hotel.
I’m not ready to admit everything to him yet when it’s still so new to me. I’ve only known about the kid since Sunday, and I promised my dad we could meet up on Thursday.
The problem is that he wants to talk about illegal activities, so it’s not like we can just head to a restaurant and chat over steaks. He was a little offended I didn’t invite him to my place, but I don’t really give a fuck about his feelings any more than he gives fucks about mine.
Hotel it is.
Ainsley and Jack are at home, and so far, nobody is the wiser to my little situation. After my talk with Everleigh the other day, I guess I’m starting to warm up to the idea that he’s going to be around, but I’m keeping all options and avenues open. And that’s really the root of why I’m not ready to tell my dad about him just yet.
Or any of my other siblings—provided Ev didn’t tell anyone as I requested before I hung up on her. Or the press.
I’m not even totally sure why I’m meeting my father. I already know what he’s going to say, but he’ll do it in person in a more convincing way where it’s harder to say no to him. That’s how he operates. He’s not here for business—at least notlegitimatebusiness. He’s here to run this by me and get me to sign off on it before the season starts.
He has no idea that I’m being crushed by the weight of everything else around me, and he’s just piling on more.
But maybe this is the exact distraction I need. The thrill I’ve been chasing. The excitement of Vegas, whereIget to be the house that always wins. It’s those conflicting sides pulling at me again—loyalty to family versus my own needs.
So I’m here to hear him out.
I knock tentatively on his hotel room door, and he opens it a second later as if he was standing by waiting for me. He’s got a suite, and the main living area has a conference table where he already has his plans mapped out.
“I know you’re a busy man, too busy to do dinner with your old man, so I’ll get right to it,” he says, laying on the guilt trip thick before he gets underway.
It’s all so predictable.
“As you know, building a legacy is something I hold in the highest regard. It’s why I started Bradley Group, and it’s why I carefully and quietly started building something off the grid to create generational wealth for the Bradley family. But Chicago has limitations that Vegas simply doesn’t.”
“Dad, if you’re running an underground casino, you’ll need to be even more careful here,” I point out. “Vegas already has casinos that operatelegally, so what do you have that will attract people to an underground operation?”
“That’s the thing, son. We’ll start as a private lounge. High rollers. Invite only. Your connections, like we talked about. All aboveboard. All legal. But that’s just the front for the backroom operation we’ll also be running. That’s the one that’ll earn usrespect here in this city. That’s the one that’ll put us on the map, and before long, we won’t just be running some private club. We’ll own the entire goddamn Strip.” He grins proudly, as if he’s the first guy who ever came up with this plan.
“The entire Strip is already spoken for. You’ve got Wynn, MGM, Caesars. We can’t compete with those huge names.”
“You don’t think Bradley could fit right in with those? Look, they each started somewhere. I did my research. One of them started with a small investment in a hotel downtown when he was twenty-five, and now he owns hundreds of acres of land on Las Vegas Boulevard plus hotels around the world.” He shrugs. “Why couldn’t that be us?”
“Because you said it. He started with a small investment in a hotel downtown a million years ago. Not with a shady private club covering an illegal poker room.” I shrug back at him, and he hates that I’m so much like him.
Except I’m not. We’re different. I may like chasing thrills, but I’m not about to risk my contract over a stupid idea like this one.
