“What’s that?”
“How do you feel about a Vegas wedding?”
Tanner
Jax’s words still rang in my ears weeks later as he drove us to the airport.
“Do you think it’s really going to work out?” I asked him.
“I do, but not in the way they’re hoping.”
Theywere Noah and his sexy silver fox, as he liked to call Lior, the guy he’d met in my bar.
I’d noticed them leaving together that night shortly after Jax had left. I hadn’t needed two guesses as to what had happened between them, but one-and-done Noah was now marrying the guy in Vegas.
Apparently, it was all for show. Jax had explained vaguely why the two were getting married when he’d invited me along for support.
“What do you mean?”
“The way they look at each other…” Jax trailed off, shaking his head. “This isn’t going to end well.”
“For whom? Lior or Noah?”
He took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at me. “Both.”
“I don’t know. From the little you’ve told me, it sounds like they really like each other. You never know. Maybe Cupid’s arrow is striking them as we speak.”
Jax snorted. “We’ll have to make sure we’re not in the firing line then because this weekend has the potential to be all kinds of wild.”
“I hope that’s a promise.”
He didn’t reply, but I noticed the way his lips curled into a smile and wondered how much trouble we could really get into in only twenty-four hours in Vegas. Thanks to Lior hiring a private jet to fly us in, we’d only be there for a day.
The answer came after our dinner with Noah and Lior in the fanciest restaurant I’d ever been to when Jax asked if I wanted to go for a walk instead of returning to the hotel.
“You trying to keep your promise?” I teased as we walked out onto the strip. The sun had set a couple of hours before, but in Vegas, one light source was replaced by another, thanks to the bright lights of every single hotel, attraction, and billboard. Was there a dark spot anywhere in Vegas? I didn’t think so.
“What promise?”
“A wild weekend.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
He laughed. “Sorry to break your heart, but I just wanted to give the grooms some space.”
“You don’t think a four-bedroom suite is big enough?”
“I think getting some air instead of holing up in a room is better.”
I bumped my shoulder against his. “We’ve got the fresh air down. Well, as fresh as it can get in Vegas. What’s next?”
His lips teased a smile that made me weak in the knees and also very suspicious. “Why don’t we check out the Vegas bar scene? See if they can give you a run for your money.”
“Ooh, you’re in.”
Over the next couple of hours, we hopped from bar to bar. In each, we picked a single cocktail, shared it, and then rated it before moving on to the next one.
“Oh god, this one tastes like sweaty balls. What’s in it?” he asked, putting the glass down. I’d already had my taste and wholeheartedly agreed. With a name like Frat Bro’s Love Boat Revenge, I was scared to ask the bartender for an ingredient list.
“I think we should summarize our findings, write a report, and hand it to the teacher in the morning,” I said, raising the cocktail glass and placing it back down on the bar mat. No way was I taking a second taste.
