Vegas Knights (10 page)

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Authors: Marina Maddix

BOOK: Vegas Knights
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"It's funny, but once we got the space, we spent so much time — and money — getting it all put together, that we forgot to start smoking again. That night was the last time I ever got high, and you know something? I never missed it. I'd always believed that my creativity was heightened by being stoned, but the opposite turned out to be true.”

Over the decades, the founding members drifted in and out, most leaving the area, others leaving the life. Finally, Greta was the only remaining original member, and subsequently became known by the nickname 'Abuela'. "I suppose it's possible I might be a little, um, overly protective of some of the members, so they think of me as a grandmother."

Syndee, the pink-haired woman Kelly had met outside, snorted. "Understatement, Abuela."

Kelly smiled at the friendly exchange. The people here had a deep attachment to each other. They were a family of sorts. She loved it. And she hadn't been so prolific in months. The canvas Greta had placed in front of her just a few hours earlier was covered with broad strokes and bold colors, reminiscent of a desert sunset.
 

"That's quite striking, Kelly." Greta was peering over her shoulder, analyzing her work. "What was your inspiration?"

"The cross-country motorcycle trip I just took with my...um, friend."

Greta smiled serenely.
 

Syndee sauntered over to have a look. "Wow, really nice, Kimmy."
 

"Kelly."
 

Syndee shrugged, which seemed to be a standard response for her. "So who's the friend?" She used her fingers to make air quotes on the last word.

Kelly blushed. "His name's Rick. We haven't known each other very long but I really..." She was about to say she really liked him but that seemed too personal to share, plus the short-term nature of their relationship made it sound all the more pathetic. "I enjoy spending time with him."

Syndee snorted again. "I'll bet. Big biker, eh?"

"I guess that's his business." Kelly knew the answer sounded lame but she couldn't think of anything else.

"Must be a helluva lay to inspire red-hot scenes like this," Syndee laughed.

"Syndee!"

"Relax, Abuela, I'm just trying to find out what
exactly
inspired it."

"No, it's just that the sunsets on the road are really stunning. I'd already painted this one in my head."

Greta moved between Kelly and Syndee, the latter giving Greta a sour look as she moved away.
 

"So you'll be back tomorrow?" Greta asked.

"Oh, no, I...well, I don't know. Maybe." Judging from the way he'd left her that morning, Kelly doubted that Rick would have any free time during her stay, so she'd need something to keep her occupied before he sent her packing.
 

"Well, you just come on back when you can." Greta patted her shoulder.
 

That simple touch filled Kelly with such comfort, such longing for friendship, that she knew she'd return. "Problem is, I don't really have much money to contribute..."
 

Greta cut her off. "Don't worry about it. The first week's free, though I honestly wish you were staying longer."

Kelly dropped her eyes, wishing the same thing but not trusting her voice to say so. She merely nodded.

"You're not leaving already, are you?" Syndee asked.
 

"I really should get going. Rick's picking me up for dinner at someplace called Genoa in a couple of hours and I need to get cleaned up." A thought occurred to her. "Don't I need to get cleaned up? Genoa is probably nice, right?"

Syndee looked at her blankly, as if Kelly was mentally challenged. "Yeah. It's nice."
 

Greta helped Kelly put away her station and gave her a small hug at the door. "It was a delight to meet you, Kelly. We hope to see you tomorrow."

Chapter Eight

She fairly floated back to the penthouse on the endorphin high she always got after creating something really good. She'd left the painting at the gallery to dry, but it was otherwise finished. She was astounded how quickly she'd completed the piece. As she entered the penthouse, she was envisioning a series based on the trip, and had even mapped out the next piece.
 

She couldn't believe her good luck in finding Pinyon. She'd been creatively blocked for months while she worked that horrible corporate job and, once free, her mind couldn't stop seeing everything as a potential painting. Just this short trip alone had provided more inspirational material than the last several years of her life. Now she had a place to get them down on canvas, and a supportive group of people to keep her motivated. Plus she was having dinner with the sexiest man she'd ever met...in less than an hour!
 

Sticky from the day's walk, Kelly stripped out of the silk dress and stepped into the shower again. She didn't have time to enjoy herself as she did earlier, so she carefully avoided the buttons and knobs that would end up distracting her.
 

Afterward, she found an oversized curling iron in a drawer that added a lovely bounce to her locks. Dabbing on the bare minimum of blush and a little lip gloss, she appraised herself. She would have liked a little eye makeup but she was leery of the used stuff she found in the drawers.

She'd just slithered into a gorgeous blue Gucci shift and was slipping a pair of matching Prada heels onto her feet when Rick walked into the room.

"Hey there, beautiful." Rick's voice startled her.
 

"Oh!" She flew into his arms. "I didn't hear you come in. I'm so excited, I have to tell you about my day! You'll just..."
 

She trailed off when she noticed the dark circles under Rick's eyes, and the tired smile he was giving her. "Rick, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, nothing you need to worry about. It just sucks I can't spend more time with you. I don't know what I was thinking when I asked you along."

Kelly blinked in pain and stepped back from him. "I...I'm sorry. I don't want to be a burden." She moved toward the kitchen and the laptop that was sitting on the counter. "I'll just check the bus schedule and get out of your hair."

Rick grabbed her arm and spun her around into a bear hug. "No, Kell, I didn't mean it that way. I just...I want to be free, free to spend time with you, free to get the hell out of this place, free to ride."

Kelly clung to his words — and him — but she wasn't entirely convinced Rick
didn't
mean what he'd said. In her experience, comments like that were all too often the real truth, the explanation was simply a lie to make the other person feel better. She hoped that wasn’t the case.

He held her at arms length and took a long, smoldering look down her body. "You look good enough to eat." Then he looked at his watch. "Dammit," he growled. "This reservation was nearly impossible to get. My assistant will kill me if I made her do all that begging for nothing."

He pulled her into him, his desire for her pronounced against her hip. His hands buried themselves in her hair as he lowered his face toward hers. Kelly heart beat so loudly she worried the whole city could hear it. Rick's lips lowered onto hers in a full, gentle kiss. A pulse of love swept through her, and tears pricked her eyes. When his lips broke away from hers, her head was spinning so fast she was glad he was holding on her. Hot kisses trailed down her neck as he breathed her in.

"I guess you'll just have to be dessert."

~ * ~ * ~

Thirty minutes later, they were seated at an intimate table at a tony bistro. It was packed to capacity with a line out the door, but when the maitre'd saw Rick, they were ushered to a booth in the back that was very dark and very romantic.

Rick ordered some wine, again sending shivers down Kelly's body with his musical use of French. The wine was as delicious as the chardonnay he'd served at his cabin, and it immediately melted her fears into a warm flush.

"So how's your business stuff going?" Kelly still wasn't clear on exactly what he came back for, but with her head for business, even if he'd explained it, she probably would have been lost.

"Not great." A shadow fell across Rick's face, and Kelly was sorry she'd asked. "I'm facing some resistance to an, um, agreement that I thought was a done deal. It's fucked up."

He stared into his swirling wine for a moment. "Why don't you tell me about your exciting day?"

Kelly didn't need any further encouragement to not only change the subject but also share her news about Pinyon.

"That's great, Kell, it really is." Rick was beaming at her, and reached out to take one of her hands. "I can't wait to see what you've worked up."

Just then, a flash blinded them. When her eyes had adjusted, she saw Rick and the maitre'd forcefully ushering a man in a suit out of the restaurant. Rick was furious when he sat down.

"Fucking paps! Why is it anyone's business who I'm having dinner with?"

"Paparazzi? Why was he taking a picture of
us
?" She looked at him with confused eyes.

"Exactly! They can't get enough, fucking vultures! I just want to..." He half-stood, clearly torn between beating the photographer to a pulp and letting it go.

He glanced at Kelly and embarrassment flooded his face. He sat back down and grabbed her hands. "Kelly, I'm so sorry. You had no idea, did you? Of course, why would you? I'm an idiot!" She jumped when his fist hit the table for emphasis.

He took a deep breath to calm himself before explaining. "The local papers, and a few of the national tabloids, sort of see me as a celebrity. I don't get it, but after my dad died and I inherited the company — and that month I was going nuts — they decided I was someone to watch. Can't say as I blame them. There was a lot to cover that first month. They printed shots of me with anyone who looked remotely female, whether there was anything going on or not."

He shot a hand through his hair, tugging on the tufts at the nape of his neck. Kelly almost smiled at the gesture she'd grown to adore.

"They went positively apeshit over that stupid wedding. The chapel even sold our wedding photos — ones I don't even remember taking! After that, I sobered up and quit with the dramatics. When things with Elizabeth didn't work out, I started traveling a lot to our company-sponsored bike rallies. I've pretty much kept a low profile ever since."

He glared over her shoulder, as if expecting the photographer to still be lurking. "I guess word got out that I'm back in town. Guy probably followed us from the apartment. Asshole."

Kelly went from confused to furious in a split second. "You mean they follow you around like you're a Kardashian or something? That's crazy! You're a business owner, not a movie star. Unless you're not telling me something." She smiled at her little joke.

Rick didn't. He just glared at his glass of wine. "Every time I'm here...I'd love to just get on my bike and never look back. Too many bad memories. Too much bullshit."

Kelly reached across the table and put her hand over the one Rick was using to pluck threads from his napkin. "Hey. I'm really sorry. Do you want to leave?"

"No!" Diners near them turned to see if more excitement would ensue. He lowered his voice and leaned forward. "No, they can't win. I won't allow it. Let's just forget about it and enjoy our dinner, okay?"

He smiled and appeared to relax some but Kelly could see he was still tense. In fact, she'd noticed that since they crossed into the city limits Rick was different. He wasn't as relaxed, as happy as he'd been on the road.
 

"A toast." Rick's voice startled her. "To the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of dining with."

Kelly flushed at the compliment, not because she was pleased by it, but because she was embarrassed Rick would say such a lie, and so loudly. She wasn't blind. She could see she didn't fit the mold here. Just walking around earlier in the day, she could see that the women here were lean and fit and well-dressed. All the ladies in this restaurant fit that description. The brief glow of confidence she'd felt earlier had evaporated the instant she walked into the place. She shifted uncomfortably at the thought her dress might be riding up her full thighs.
 

She peeked around and other couples were glancing over, smiling.
They're laughing at me. Great
.

Mortified but trying to hide it, Kelly clinked glasses with Rick and drained hers in one swallow. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just reached over and refilled her glass. She couldn't meet his eyes.

Just then the food arrived. She'd stupidly ordered prime rib with a loaded baked potato. She was suddenly aware that every woman around her was eating salad or some other rabbit food. And here she was ready to dig into half a heifer. "I'm the heifer," she mumbled as she picked up her knife and fork.

"What's that?"
 

Kelly didn't realize she'd said it out loud. "I, uh, I said it looks good."

Rick grinned at her. "I love that about you. You aren't one of these Vegas Barbies who couldn't possibly be seen eating real food in front of her man, much less in public."

Kelly was sure he was just trying to make her feel better for being such a glutton. Diversion seemed to be in order. "Barbies?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, you know, the scrawny little things with the bleach blond hair and bolt-on boobs who are constantly working out, don't have an ounce of fat on them and would die before anyone saw them eat."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is," he chuffed, bitterness infusing his words. "Trust me, those women are insane. Nine times out of ten, they're status-driven and money-hungry. They don't care about anything but themselves and what kind of shiny new thing their neighbor just bought. They're soulless, really. I should know, I married one."

"Was she that bad?"

"Worse." He stabbed a scallop and popped it in his mouth.
 

"I know it's been a while since I've been on a date, but isn't it still considered bad form to talk about exes?" The twinkle in his eye told her he was teasing her, but his meaning was clear: Drop it.

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