Ride (9 page)

“Yes, they did.” Leesa wished it could be true. She felt bad lying, but she couldn’t exactly confess she’d run into him accidentally while hiding for her life.

“I’m glad.” He squeezed her hands. “You never answered me though. Have you changed your mind about our date?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? We’re going to be eating together soon.” She glanced at her red cup nearby on the desk. “And we’re having drinks. That sounds like a date to me, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does.” He grinned until his eyes crinkled in the corners.

Damn, why did she suddenly have the urge to flirt with him? The same reason she wished they could go on a real date. She liked him. A lot.

“You even got me up to your room on our first date.” She peered at him from beneath her lowered eyelashes. Meanwhile she wished this wouldn’t have to be their one and only date.

Feeling moderately safe for the moment meant she was no longer able to ignore the extreme attraction between the two of them. Where the hell did she think this thing could go? Soon she’d have to find a way safely out of this town even though she still didn’t know where she was going. She’d likely never see Chase again. That thought sucked.

“I did get you up here, didn’t I?” Chase leaned in just a bit closer. “It must have been the tantalizing promise of beer and chips.”

Leesa’s gaze dropped to his lips and imagined how they would feel against hers. That was one thing they hadn’t done last night. She’d felt him hard in her hand, felt him throb as he came, but she never felt his lips on hers. Suddenly, she really wanted to. The moment was right, or as right as it was going to get, as Chase leaned in even closer.

His mouth was soft against hers. His touch just hard enough to let her know he was willing to accept whatever she was willing to give, but that he definitely wanted more. She felt his shaky intake of breath as he tilted his head and worked his mouth against hers. She wished she tasted of toothpaste rather than beer, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind as his hands moved from her hands and up her arms to finally settle on her face. He cupped her head like she was a porcelain doll he was afraid to break, but just as afraid to let go. She liked it.

He pulled away just enough to say, “I want you more than anything right now. That’s why I’m going to stop kissing you.”

“What?” That was the last thing she’d expected or wanted to hear from him.

“How else will you ever believe me that I asked you out because I like you and not because I’m looking to finish what we started?”

“Either you’re as sincere as you seem, or you’re the best liar with the best pickup lines I’ve ever met in my life.”

Surprisingly, he grinned at that. “Sometimes I wish I was as quick at lines as some of the other guys, but I find it’s easier to stick with the truth. Less likely to get bitten in the ass by one of your own lies that way.”

Leesa smothered a sigh. If only she had the freedom of telling the truth right now without it getting herself or someone else killed. She smiled to lighten the mood again. “You’re very smart for just a kid.”

Chase’s sandy brows rose. “A kid, huh?”

She grinned. “Yeah.”

“I’ll show you what a kid I am.” His smile belied his tone as he leaned in again and did exactly what he promised. He kissed her with all the passion of a man. There was not one ounce of boy in him as he grabbed her head in his hands and claimed her mouth.

Then a knock sounded loudly on the door.

Leesa jumped and her heart began to race until she heard, “Pizza delivery.”

Smiling, he stood. “Saved by the pizza.”

“Yeah.” Unfortunately.

Chapter Seven

For the second time in two days, Chase woke and had to pause a moment to take inventory. He hated waking up feeling like this. Wondering things like where was he? Why did his mouth taste like stale beer and pepperoni? What happened last night? More importantly, who was this warm body pressed up against him?

Holy crap!
Eyes fully open and brain wide awake now, Chase glanced down at the woman by his side. It didn’t take long for him to recognize the fall of long brown hair splayed across his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Leesa. It all came rushing back to him.

He hadn’t drunk that much last night. At least he didn’t think so. He remembered he hadn’t wanted to get too drunk in front of her. If things had gone anywhere with her, he wanted to be in top shape. More than that, he didn’t trust the other guys around her if he passed out.

Chase had fallen asleep in his jeans and shirt, but he didn’t think he’d passed out from alcohol, just from exhaustion since he hadn’t been totally recovered from the night before. There was the memory of Garret and Skeeter, pretty inebriated themselves, busting through the door, demanding the last two pieces of pizza and then not leaving until Chase did a shot of bourbon with them. Or was it more like two or three shots?

Those two had talked Leesa’s ear off about the competition and how great they’d both ridden, ninety percent of which were exaggerations. She’d listened politely and then even laughed when Skeeter sang the song that had gotten him his nickname.

Leesa had drank the two beers he’d brought her. Then Garret had handed her another cup when he came in for the pizza. That might have had bourbon and coke though, instead of beer in it.

Damn. Chase should have paid closer attention to what he’d given her. Garret could have made it super strong for all Chase knew. He glanced at the sleeping figure next to him. No wonder she still slept so soundly. Poor thing.

After Garret and Skeeter’s intrusion, once he’d finally convinced them to leave, they’d turned on the television for a bit. Leesa had looked tired and had drunk too much for him to let her leave, not that she was trying to go anywhere. She seemed perfectly content to sit in the room with him. Then what? He supposed they’d fallen asleep right there on the bed. The television was off now. Had he turned it off last night? Had she? He didn’t remember.

He really had to quit drinking, because he was pretty tired of piecing together the night before the next morning. All he was sure of now was that there hadn’t been any more than those two kisses right before the pizza came. If there had been more, he would remember it without a doubt.

Leesa still breathed with the steady, deep rhythm of sleep. Not wanting to disturb her, he slipped his body out from beneath her. She let out a little moan and rolled over, snuggling into the pillow. He regretted getting out of bed more than he could have imagined, but nature called. Maybe he could slip back into bed when he was done without waking her. That was a really nice idea.

He touched his head. Not so bad. No headache. No hangover. Yeah, he was tired and a little groggy, but that could be the early hour. Judging by the grey light filtering through the curtains, the sun had barely risen. Then again, this was Las Vegas. That glow coming through the window could be caused by neon, not nature.

Chase shook his head as he stumbled toward the bathroom. He’d be happy to get back to his family’s farm. This life was exciting. Travel. A different city every week. But he’d be happy to have his mama’s home cooking every day, and be able to cleanse his system of all the junk food and alcohol he’d indulged in lately. He’d work out daily at home and come back next season leaner and meaner and ready to win.

That resolution made, Chase took care of what he had to in the bathroom, including a quick shower. He decided it was best to be clean in case Leesa woke up feeling amorous. You never know, and it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

After brushing his teeth, Chase eased open the bathroom door.

She was still asleep. Good. He could creep back into bed and she’d never know he was gone. Even if they hadn’t had sex, he still liked waking up next to her. It felt nice.

With one of the hotel’s white towels wrapped around his waist, Chase tiptoed into the room. They’d fallen asleep last night with the lights on, so he’d have no problem finding a pair of shorts in the clean clothes piled in his duffle bag. He would put those on instead of getting back into his jeans. Might as well be comfortable, and as far as access in case Leesa was a morning person, shorts were far better than jeans. Hell, a man could dream, couldn’t he?

Chase found a pair of boxer shorts, but decided that was too intimate. He had a feeling she might not like waking up to find him in underwear in bed with her. It would make him seem damn presumptuous. In spite of the fact they’d done stuff together at the club, he wasn’t about to assume anything because of it.

She was different here, off work. Besides, the strip club and that lap dance had been part of her job. Chase didn’t want to be a job. He wanted her to like him, to want him, to be with him because she wanted to, not because someone paid her to.

He dug farther into the jumbled heap, looking for a pair of his workout shorts to wear. Unfortunately, with home just a day away, most of his clothes were dirty. He’d gotten lazy and figured he could bring his laundry there and wash it more easily than locate a laundromat.

This was Vegas. There were far better ways to spend his time than to sit and watch his clothes spin in circles. One such way was snoring lightly in his bed. That thought made him smile, and he dug with more enthusiasm than before. Hell, if he had to, he’d grab a pair of Garret’s shorts. The guy had more clothes than most girls.

Chase turned toward Garret’s side of the room intent on pilfering some shorts when something shiny caught his eye. On the dresser, right in front of the mirror and below the lamp sat two gold rings.

“What the hell?” Chase moved closer and picked one up, then the second. One was tiny, the other large enough to fit on his finger. Then he spied the pieces of paper lying beneath the rings. He picked up the smaller one. It was a receipt for one wedding ceremony and two gold bands, paid for in cash with yesterday’s date.

Swallowing hard, Chase picked up the larger, more decorative piece of paper. Across the top, in fancy printing was written
Certificate of Marriage
. Below that, under the word groom was—holy crap—his name printed in block letters. His eyes swung to the bride’s name and there it was—Leesa Santiago. No, he’d never heard her last name, but the Leesa had two E’s in it and how often did you see that?

He scanned down the page and saw again yesterday’s date and a line with his signature. Next to that was what must be Leesa’s signature, and beneath that were two scrawled names he didn’t recognize listed under Witnesses. Chase ran his hand over his face, rubbing hard.

He hadn’t drank that much. How the hell could he have been intoxicated enough to get married? And how could he not remember doing it? He was still standing in the towel, probably with his mouth hanging open, when Leesa began to stir in the bed. He turned and saw her sit up slowly.

Sleepily, she stretched. “Morning. Sorry about last night. We both fell asleep watching TV.”

The rings and certificate still in his hand, Chase swallowed hard. “Apparently that’s not all we did.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t remember either?” Her clothes from the night before were still completely on, just as his had been. So even if they had somehow stumbled downstairs drunk, then out into the street to find a twenty-four hour wedding chapel, they likely hadn’t come home to have sex after. He was happy about that. Not remembering getting hitched was one thing, but he really would like to remember the first time they had sex.

As she stared at him with confusion, the full ramifications of what they’d done began to hit him. They were married. Legally bound in the eyes of the law and the state of Nevada. Man and wife.

What would Leesa think about it when he finally told her what they’d done? Would she freak out? And why wasn’t he freaking out more himself?

That was something to think about.

Married. Wow
.

Hell, as long as they had already done it, he wouldn’t mind trying it out for a little bit. Like on a trial basis, just to get the feel of it. Hmm, and they could legally and morally have all the sex they wanted. That part was pretty good.

She rose from the bed and padded across the room in just her socks. He did remember suggesting she take her shoes off so she could get comfortable when they were sitting on the bed watching television. Come to think of it, he’d woken up without his boots. Glancing at the door, he saw them sitting there right where he remembered leaving them last night.

Did they take their vows last night drunk and barefoot?

Maybe if the two of them combined their memories they could put the pieces of this mystery together. Should they ask the other guys if they knew what had happened? Somehow the dead last thing Chase wanted to do was admit any of this to Garret.

Had Garret plied them both with shots last night until they were so drunk they did this? If that were the case, Chase would really have to kill him this time. That was for later. Right now, Chase had to break the bad news—or possibly good news, depending on how you looked at it—to his bride.

A picture was worth a thousand words, or in this case, a marriage license was. He thrust the certificate at her. She took it and frowned as she looked it over, then her eyes opened wide. Her gaze shot to him. “Where did you get this?”

“It was lying right here when I woke up. Along with that receipt and these.” He held up the rings. He slipped the larger one onto the fourth finger of his left hand. “It fits.” Not perfectly, it was a little tight, but it was on his finger and once his body wasn’t soaked in beer, it would probably fit pretty well.

He held the smaller one up for her to see. He watched as her throat worked. Slowly, he reached out, took her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger. It was a tad bit big on her and spun a little too easily, but it stayed on her finger without falling off when she held her hand down to stare at it. Her hands were so small, it was probably the smallest size they had on short notice.

“Yours fits too.”

With them both wearing their wedding bands, this was starting to feel really real now.

She glanced down at the ring, then the paper in her hand.