Colorado 03 Lady Luck (10 page)

He also knew Lexie didn’t have a Daddy but
if she did, she’d take black home and, he figured, with her sass,
Daddy didn’t like it, she’d tell him to go fuck himself.

On this thought, he asked, “Had breakfast?”
and she shook her head.

He turned his and saw the outside restaurant
at the side of the pool.

Then he looked back at her. “I’m
hungry.”

“Me too,” she agreed, let go of his hand and
moved instantly.

Rolling off the lounger, she bent low and
grabbed some clothes she’d shoved under it. Then she pulled on a
tight, tee fabric halter top the color of her swimsuit and then a
pair of black short-shorts. Then she sat, bent forward and started
strapping on a pair of black sandals with tall, wedged heels.

Something barbed pressed into the skin at
the back of his neck and he tore his eyes from his new wife to look
three loungers away. There he saw a man who definitely spent a lot
of time working on his tan. Oiled up. Tight, black swim trunks.
Gold at his neck. His shades aimed at Alexa Walker’s cleavage
exposed to his view as she was bent toward the guy.

“
Yo!
” he barked, felt Lexie’s surprised movement
rather than saw it but also saw tight trunk man’s shades jerk up to
his face. Walker shook his head slowly. The guy quickly looked
away.

The barbed feeling faded.

Lexie stood and came into his line of
sight.

“What was that?” she asked quietly.

“I’m standin’ here,” he answered.

Her head cocked to the side. She was
confused or maybe she didn’t notice the guy. He was guessing the
second as he’d noted she didn’t notice men’s attention, something
which she got a lot of.

But he did.

He moved around the lounge, got close to her
and tipped his chin down to lock shades.

“He was starin’ at your tits.”

Her head slowly turned to the lounger
holding tight trunk man.

Then it turned to him, tipped back and they
again locked shades.

Then she muttered, “Euw.”

Total goof. Total cute.

Fuck him.

“Yeah, that for you, for me, my woman is
puttin’ on her shoes, I’m standin’ right there, you do not fuckin’
stare at her tits.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

“Right. Oh.” He jerked his head at the
lounge. “You gonna get your stuff?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll leave it to
keep my place. I’ll keep an eye on it from our table.”

That was acceptable so he moved.

She moved with him and did what she did the
day before, grabbing his hand and lacing her fingers with his. She
held on tight. Bag of Bones was watching and she was earning her
fifty K.

They were seated at a table where he could
keep an eye on her shit; she sat in the seat next to him at the
square table instead of opposite. A scan of the pool and restaurant
showed that Bag of Bones was gone, probably because the morning
Vegas sun was torture on his pasty white skin.

They ordered and he was doing another scan
to see if Bones was back when he felt her fingers on his hand and
his head tipped down to see her hand was at his which was resting
on the table and she was thumbing his wide, white gold wedding
band.

“He’s gone,” Walker informed her.

Her hand moved away quickly and her head
shot back to look at him, both movements indicating that for some
reason he’d startled her.

“What?” she asked quietly.

“Bones. He’s gone.”

Her shades immediately moved to scan the
area and she whispered, “He was here?”

Something sharp pierced straight through the
left side of his chest.

Then he asked, “You didn’t tag him? He was
out here when I got here.”

Her shades came back to him, she shook her
head and said, “I thought he was following you. Why’s he following
me?”

“You didn’t tag him,” Walker repeated, this
time a statement, not a question.

She shook her head again and said, “No. No.
I…” She paused. “Oh my God. How creepy. Why’s he following me?”

She didn’t tag him.

She’d smiled bright at him. Called him her
goofy name. Kept smiling at him. Tugged him to her lounge. Held
hands with him almost the entire time he was with her and thumbed
his wedding ring in a way that she’d been absorbed in it and he’d
startled her when she saw she had his attention.

What the fuck?

As that question came to his mind, their
coffee came, saving him from having to guess at an answer and
giving him an opportunity to set aside an explanation as to why
Bones was following her. The time would come when the need to know
she needed to know was that she’d be looked into. Now was not that
time.

“Today, I got shit to do,” he told her as
she poured milk into her coffee.

She nodded. “That’s cool. I’m gonna
bake.”

“You got shit to do too.”

She went from spooning sugar into her coffee
to looking at him. “What?”

“
In two days we’re headin’ home.
My
home. Carnal. You got a job to
quit and a life to shut down. You need to start on
that.”

Her shades stayed locked with his.

Then she muttered, “Oh God, I didn’t think
about that.”

“Tomorrow can be your vacation day. Today,
you sort shit out.”

She went back to spooning sugar in but she
did it nodding. He counted as her hand moved. She took four sugars.
No wonder she had that ass.

“You got people who can help you or do we
need to carve out time, drive down and sort that?” he asked.

She stopped stirring, put her spoon aside,
took a sip then put her cup down while looking at him.

“Ronnie’s Mom and sisters will kick in for
me. I tell them I’m moving out from under Shift’s thumb, they’ll
rent Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader outfits and do cartwheels around
Cowboy Stadium.”

“They probably should save that energy and
use it to pack your shit and send it to Carnal.”

She laughed softly then muttered, “Yeah, Ty,
you’re probably right.”

“You need movers, they get quotes, you tell
me, I’ll get them the money. I’ll also give you the address.”

Her head tipped to the side. “The
address?”

“To my house.”

“Your house?”

“My house.”

“What house?”

“My house in Carnal.”

“You have a house in Carnal?”

“I went to prison but doin’ it don’t mean I
was stripped of all my possessions. I went, Maggie saw to my
shit.”

He watched with interest as her shoulders
went straight and then she asked, “Maggie?”

“Maggie,” he confirmed.

“
Who’s Maggie?” she asked and her tone was
one he hadn’t heard from her yet. Not sass. Not attitude. Not
annoyed. But the edge was sharp. Leaning toward pissed not in the
sense that women get pissed. In the sense that women get
pissed.

“
My former boss’s ex-wife. Though, he got
his head outta his ass, saw what he fucked up and now they’re
attempting a reconcile. So, I guess I should say, the last year,
Maggie
and
Wood been
seein’ to my shit.”

“Wood?”

“Maggie’s ex. The man who owns the garage I
used to work at.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

“We get home, you’ll need to take a look.
Your shit’s better than my shit, move your shit in and we’ll move
my shit out. It’s not, have your people get rid of it, bank the
cash.”

Her shades held his.

“Um… again, how long’s this business gonna
last?”

“Again, I don’t know. But what people gotta
see is you and me startin’ a life together.”

She hesitated. Then, “Right.”

He stared at her. Then his eyes went to her
left hand sitting in her lap. The band embedded with small diamonds
sitting tight under the engagement ring served as a reminder that
yesterday cut deep into his reserve. He had a marker of fifty K to
pay. He had a life to restart. He had business to see to. He had to
find a table.

Then he noticed her lips were pressed
together, he guessed as to why and reminded her, “Time to bolt is
over. You’re wearin’ my rings.”

Her head jerked and she declared firmly,
“I’m not going to bolt.”

The tightness in his chest he hadn’t noticed
until he heard her words released.

“How did, um… Maggie and Wood take care of
your shit?” she asked.

“Rented my place. Paid my bills. Banked the
extra. Vacated the tenants a month ago when I asked ‘em to. Stored
my shit when I went down, took it outta storage and dumped it at
home. Sorted through it to pack the shit I needed, sent it to Shift
for him to add what he owed and give it to you.”

“That was nice of them to do.”

“They’re nice.”

Her lips tipped up.

Their food was served.

Unlike with her tuna melt, but absolutely
the same as when their room service was delivered last night, she
dug in, no bullshit nibbling, pretending she didn’t need food to
survive. She’d ordered a Belgian waffle. And she liked what she
ordered and didn’t give a fuck if he knew it.

Alexa Walker was a beautiful, classy, sexy,
part-goof who liked her food.

And Ty Walker liked all of that.

Too much.

Christ, pussy had fucked his life and here
he was, two days out of the joint and sitting under a fucking
umbrella in the Vegas heat next to pussy who’d had dick fuck up her
life and he wanted in there so fucking badly he could almost
convince himself he already tasted her on his tongue.

Jesus, he needed another shower and not
because he was eating eggs, bacon, sausage and toast in the Vegas
heat but because he needed to take his fist to his cock or he’d
likely do something he seriously regretted and that something would
mean she’d bolt and he’d never see her smile again.

Her voice cut into his thoughts. “What’s
your place like?”

“Condo,” he answered.

Her laugh made him turn his shades to her.
“You’re not much on specifics,” she remarked.

“What’s there to say about a condo?”

She kept her shades on him for several
seconds.

Then she murmured, “Point taken,” while
smiling at her waffle.

Yep, he had to get the fuck out of there.
Soon.

“You start sortin’ your shit, you need me,
I’ll leave my new cell number in the room.”

“Okay.”

“That second dress you bought, you’re
wearin’ tonight.”

He felt her eyes on him but he shoveled in
more food.

“Okay,” she said.

He swallowed and stated, “Soon’s I eat,
gotta go. You charge this shit and the tip to our room.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

He focused on eating. She fell silent maybe
reading his mood.

The instant he finished, he sucked back the
dregs of his coffee, turned to her and in case Bones was watching
from somewhere, he nabbed her behind the neck, pulled her to him,
pressed his lips to hers hard, let her go, got up and walked away
licking his lips.

They tasted like whipped cream,
strawberries, waffles and Lexie.

Fuck.

* * * * *

Lexie

I walked out of the bathroom gussied up in
what I thought of as my slut dress. Ty’s instructions had been,
“Two dresses. One to get married in. One that’ll get
attention.”

I’d never dressed to get attention. I liked
clothes, buying them and wearing them but I’d never owned a dress
like this and I hoped the one I picked would be the ticket.

I walked into the bedroom to see Ty doing
the cufflink thing again, this time he was wearing the deep
lavender shirt with a pair of dark blue suit trousers. My eyes took
in his male beauty then they slid to my nightstand.

I’d woken up to my bouquet in a vase
precisely where it now stood. Upon waking, after seeing Ty’s side
of the bed was mussed but empty, processing the fact that I slept
on top of the covers in my wedding dress, those flowers in that
vase were the second thing I saw after I rolled.

And the minute I saw them, I’d frozen,
blinking the sleep out of my eyes, convinced I was seeing
things.

Unless Vegas had bouquet fairies as well as
one hour tailors, there was no one but Ty who could have located a
vase and put my bouquet in it while I slept the sleep of the dead.
And, when I realized I wasn’t seeing things, I didn’t know what to
think about Ty locating a vase and putting my bouquet in it. I
didn’t know him all that well but from what I did know, this seemed
a very un-Ty-like thing to do. Therefore, I lay in bed and stared
at those roses for what had to be five minutes trying to figure out
what I thought.

I got out of bed not knowing.

But I also got out of bed with a warm
feeling deep in my gut that felt really,
really
good as well as thinking that this fake marriage
business wasn’t going to be that bad.

Sure, he didn’t talk much.

Sure, when he did, most of it was crude but
it wasn’t like I wasn’t used to that from Ronnie, Shift and their
crew, in fact, Ronnie, Shift and their crew were worse.

Sure, there were important ways he was
closed off. Then again, we barely knew each other. Sharing our
deepest, darkest secrets within forty-eight hours of meeting was
not something to be expected. I had no idea why I poured my heart
out to him last night. What I knew was, when I did, although he
didn’t exactly handle me with care, he was honest, he shared his
opinion and I just happened to like his opinion no matter that the
realization it made me come to didn’t feel all that great. Not to
mention, he’d shown himself to be wise.

Sure, he seemed to have no sense of humor
but he also didn’t get ticked when I laughed when he didn’t find
anything funny. And he didn’t have
no
sense of humor. His lips curled up last night, I saw
them.