She frowns. “Roger that. We’ll keep things simple then. Uncomplicated.”
“Don’t mean that, either,” I say, cocking my head to the side so I can draw closer while still wearing my Stetson. “What I mean is I don’t care why you bid on me. But I do care about what happens tomorrow… after this is all over.”
“Does it have to be?” her voice comes out like a squeak, her eyes catching mine.
“Now you’re reading my mind.”
“You don’t make it easy.” Her smile is slow and mischievous like there’s an idea brewing.
“This doesn’t have to be over… doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be,” I say.
“And what do you want it to be?” she asks so softly I have to lean closer to hear her.
“What it already is,” I say. “The best night of my life.”
And I know it.
The moment those words leave my mouth, I know I’ve crossed over a line. Regret washes over me.
But then she smiles, and I remember it’s true.
Couldn’t be more so with this woman, though I barely know her.
“So, you’d be here… with or without the five hundred dollar bid?” she flirts.
“Probably not,” I admit. “Needed a little extra push to do something so—” I search for the right word, “…out of character.”
The server comes by. “Can I get you two something else?”
“Two shots of trouble,” she says, holding up her fingers.
He nods, sauntering back toward the bar. No need to rush here, we practically have the place to ourselves.
“Been thinking,” she says, “we’ve already committed the first Vegas offense and come out unscathed.”
“You mean gambling? Think we lost a good fifty dollars.”
“Chump change around here.”
“In other words, unscathed.”
“Maybe it’s time to tempt fate again,” she says.
“What do you have in mind?” I growl, lips so close to her neck I can almost taste her.
“The craziest thing we could do tonight. Maybe the wrongest, too.”
“Wrongest. You know, you’re the only person I’d agree to that with,” I confess.
“Plain-talking cowboy. I like that.”
“Old-fashioned, too.”
“How old-fashioned?” she asks, grabbing my hat before I can stop her and plopping it onto her head.
God, that does something to my body. My hands close the distance, pressing her flush against, making what she’s doing to me undeniable.
Johnny Cash’sRing of Firecroons from the glowing and throbbing jukebox, faint but insistent.
