My siblings have been lucky in love. Caleb fell in love with Victoria, the woman he fake-married to get a psychopathic mafia heiress out of his life. Kyle spent six years and fuck knows how many dollars’ worth of therapy waiting for Sienna, the woman he fell in love with at a costume party in a nightclub one NewYear’s Eve to come back into his life. And Emily met Eoghan in the arrivals lounge at Dublin airport.
Love at first sight.
Terry has rubbed off on us more than anyone realizes, proving the argument for nurture over nature.
Three down, two to go for a full house.
My stepdad doesn’t ask me for the details of the trip. We’ll hold a board meeting tomorrow, share information, and figure out next steps. This is what we’re good at.
“Glad to see the young lady came back.” He nods at the casino floor, at Remy Jones, the croupier who keeps glancing my way, and then saunters off to keep an eye on the clientele.
She’s busy on the roulette table, eyes cast down, mind in the game. It affords me a moment to study her while she’s oblivious. Her thick honey-blonde hair is tied into a neat ponytail at the back of her neck, but I can imagine it set free and swishing around her face when she shakes her head like an advertisement for shampoo. The uniform is designed for branding and comfort. But somehow, she manages to make it look sexier than should be allowed on the casino floor. No distractions. We want our guests to spend money not chat up the croupiers.
But the table is divided almost equally, male and female, and none of them are paying her any attention.
Just me then.
The evening is steady. A couple of VIPs require my attention, another guest is refused service at the bar because he is steaming drunk, and Terry deals with an altercation outside the foyer. When my gaze finally searches for Remy Jones, she isn’t there.
Disappointment settles around my shoulders like a wet towel.
Don’t get involved, I tell myself. You don’t know anything about her.
I never let women in because I’m not ready to let down my guard. I’m too busy building my business and my reputation to dilute my attention by falling in love, and I don’t care for one-night stands. Call me old-fashioned, but I want affection too. I want more than steamy sex, a messy bed, and a wave goodbye.
I want what my family has; I’m just not sure I’m ready for it yet.
My legs instinctively carry me to the staff room behind the bar, hoping to find her there. We almost collide in the doorway, and she stumbles backwards. I catch her wrists, and my throat hitches in my chest when our eyes meet.
“Sorry,” we both say together.
Her lips lift at the corners, and the bulge in my pants grows uncomfortable.
“After you.” I stand aside and gesture for her to return to the casino floor, inhaling her delicate scent. It’s fruity, slightly exotic, but subtle enough for it to not follow her around like a toxic cloud. I lean closer without realizing, and she doesn’t back off.
Instead, she chews her bottom lip and releases a shaky breath. “I lost something in your guest room.” She watches me with an apology in her eyes. “I thought it might be at home, but it isn’t there, and I’ve searched everywhere.”
“In my guest room?”
She nods, her eyes narrowing slightly. “The night before last. When I lost my keys.” She’s waiting for a response, and when I’m too slow catching up, she adds, “The guest you barred from the casino?”
I hear the panic in her voice, and I don’t want to be responsible for it. “Do you want to come and look for it?”
“Can I?” She raises her eyes to meet mine, and the pale gray is almost swallowed whole by the enlarged pupils. “You cut your hair.”
Jesus fucking Christ. The familiarity shouldn’t have the effect on me that it does. It takes all my willpower not to fist her hair and taste her lips.
“You noticed.” My voice is thick with want, and I see it in the way she licks her lips that she knows it too.
She nods. “Can we go now? I’m on my break.”
“No time like the present.” I sound too much like Terry, and the realization mingles with the inexplicable pumping of my heart when I’m this close to Remy.
I need to get my head into gear and focus. She’s waiting for me to lead the way, picking at her fingernail. Maybe she’s been psyching herself up to ask the question all evening; it would explain the furtive glances from across the casino floor.
That’s all it was, I tell myself, battling the fresh wave of disappointment. She was waiting for the right time to speak to me. She’ll find whatever she lost, go back to work, and maybe shoot me a look of gratitude whenever our paths cross.
What the fuck else did I want from her? This is hardlyWhen Harry Met Sally. That kind of meet-cute only happens in the movies. Or to my brothers and my sister Emily.
