I take her hand, though I shouldn’t. The booze has me bolder than usual. “You said you needed protection earlier. Do you feel safe now?”
She nods, eyes never leaving mine. Or her hand.
I don’t believe her.
But I don’t call her out either. Instead, I ask, “Want to tell me why you need protection?”
“Not yet,” she says gulping air.
Those two words don’t sit right. But at least they’re honest.
“Maybe later, then, after we’ve had more truth serum?” I joke, raising my plastic cup.
“You are a bad influence, Mr. Fireman.”
“No, you are, Burgundy.”
“Burgundy.” She chuckles, her hand still under mine.
My thumb brushes the inside of her wrist—over the small devil inked there. She stills. Doesn’t pull away. I drag my thumb lower—over the angel beside it.
“So which one are you?” I ask quietly.
Her cheeks glow. “That’s why I bid on you. So, you can tell me.”
That puts a sizzle in my brain. “You know, we shouldn’t be doing any of this right now,” I say.
“And why not? You told me yourself this is work-sanctioned?”
“But my hangover won’t be,” I say with a laugh.
“Can’t have a hangover if you don’t go to sleep,” she says with a wicked grin, her pink tongue darting out to wet her thick lips.
“That sounds like the beginning of something that’s going to go wrong… so very wrong,” I say, eyes caressing her face. But right now, I can’t remember what regret feels like… or why it would exist at all.
“Nope,” she says, voice firm and resolved. “Only two ways to get in trouble in Vegas,” she says, holding up two fingers. “Gambling… and quickie wedding chapels.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “You sure about that?”
“Absolutely.”
She hooks her pinkie with mine. “We stay away from both.”
I close my hand around hers. “Deal.”
By the time we make it through the airport and into the city, I don’t know what to do with myself.
The elevator ride is too quiet, too small, too full of her.
She leans back against the mirrored wall, laughing under her breath like this whole thing is a joke.
Like we didn’t just make a decision we can’t take back.
But for me, it’s something else. Something that could hurt later.
I watch her. The way her burgundy hair falls over her shoulders. How her thick pink lips curve like she already knows something I don’t.
The doors slide open. Our room is at the end of the hall.
