What Happens in Vegas... (11 page)

“Oh. Okay.” She resumed her earlier position, and braced her hands on the top of the couch. “What?”

“This.” It was all the warning she got before he closed the distance between them and captured her mouth. Her gasp of surprise pulled air from his lungs. Then Evie melted into his embrace, her lips molding against his as her tongue slid greedily over his. Her hands roamed restlessly over his back before coming to rest at his waist, her thumbs hooking under the waistband of his jeans.

He’d meant the kiss as a simple demonstration—a reference for the point he was about to make—but desire soon took over, and he deepened the kiss as his hands slid up around her neck and into the mass of her hair.

He broke the kiss before he lost all control and hauled her into the bedroom, pressing his forehead against hers as he listened to her short, panting breaths.

“
This
is still an issue, Evie.”

Her head was spinning now. “I think…” She had to pause to compose herself. “I think
this
crosses the line of ‘friends.’”

“We can’t ignore it.”

Damn. He was devastating to her higher brain functions when he looked at her like that.
Think, Evie.
“But that doesn’t mean we should explore it, either. Not immediately, at least.”

“We’re married, Evie. For the first time in your life, the people you’re so worried about gossiping about you are actually expecting you to have sex. You should take advantage of that.” Nick’s hand slid around her waist, and the hurricane began to swirl.

“Marriage of convenience” was taking on a whole new meaning for her.

The dangers, though, of a marriage of convenience to Nick were quickly becoming clear. Nick’s magnetism was almost irresistible, his eyes and voice hypnotic, but that feeling of serenity was sucking her in. Turning her on.

This
was a perk, and as wrong as it seemed to build on it, it was a foundation of sorts. At least she and Nick had
something.

But what happened in seven or eight months when she became too big and bulky and awkward to interest him? Was she signing up for even more misery later by not drawing a bold line in the sand now?

The hand around her waist tightened, and the pressure from his fingers increased, pulling her incrementally closer to him.

Her body was on board, practically screaming at her mind to quit thinking and just
do.
It was a foundation, and she reminded herself that she wasn’t trying to build a foundation for forever. It wasn’t the key to happily-ever-after, but it could be the key to happy-enough-for-now.

It would buy her some time so they could get to know each other better, find some common ground, and maybe, just maybe, change his opinion of her.

Even just a little. She’d settle for that.

Threading her fingers through Nick’s belt loops, she tugged his hips to hers. Those dark eyes seemed to light from behind, and she was rewarded for her decision with a kiss that held wicked promises.

As far as “settling” went, she could settle for worse.

S
ETTLE
WAS RAPIDLY
becoming her least favorite word in the English language. Two weeks after moving to Las Vegas, Evie had to bite her tongue every time someone said the word
settle
in her presence or else she might scream.

Gwen kept asking how she was
settling in.
Bennie wanted to know if she regretted
settling
for a quickie marriage. Will wanted to know if she’d
settled
all of her outstanding jobs and accounts before she left and how she was
settling
the ones she still had some activity in from Las Vegas. Her obstetrician promised her stomach would
settle
soon and recommended crackers and ginger ale for breakfast.

Settle, schmettle.
It was a stupid-sounding word in the first place, Evie thought as she moved from a down dog into a plank position.
Settling
sounded passive, as if something would magically happen on its own, and she had no patience at this point for just waiting around for something to happen.

Fortune favors the brave,
she thought, breathing in through her nose and lowering into a crocodile. Her arms trembled a little as she held the pose and counted under her breath. Dr. Banks had given yoga his stamp of approval at her first prenatal appointment yesterday, but she was now paying for the three weeks she’d taken off.

She couldn’t claim to be brave, but she was certainly not
passive, either. Since she and Nick called their truce seventeen days ago, she’d plastered a smile on her face and jumped into her new life with great amounts of—however forced at times—enthusiasm.

Evie rocked her chest and hips forward to push through into an up dog and felt the stretch in her back. She held the pose and opened her eyes to enjoy the view. Nick’s pool deck looked out over the desert’s colors to the mountains in the distance. It was a far cry from the urban landscape she’d had from her windows the last ten years, and it had been a surprise to find that Nick didn’t live among the lights of Las Vegas proper. She’d fallen in love with the view and spent as much time as possible out here in the shade of the awning, enjoying it. She almost hated to move back into down dog and lose the sight. Her calves protested, but she pulled her chest toward her thighs for a better stretch.

Yoga, like everything else, had to be done full-out whether she wanted to or not and regardless of how uncomfortable it was. But at least she was reaping results from that approach to her life.

She’d never be a perfect wife, but she was trying. Nick had a huge kitchen, and Evie discovered she really liked to cook. After some initial suspicion of her culinary talents and surprise that she not only planned to cook, but also claimed to enjoy it, Nick seemed pleased with her efforts and results.

The goal she’d set for herself sounded rather simple on the surface: try to get along. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have practice in that area. Years of Gwen’s training provided her with a full set of skills designed for that, and Evie had had plenty of practice perfecting them.

After the first couple of days, it got easier, as she and Nick both kept to the unspoken terms of their cease-fire. Even though she could tell Nick still didn’t quite like her, at least he didn’t seem to actively
dis
like her, either. He was pleasant—friendly,
even, at times—and it was getting incrementally better every day.

Slim results were better than none, she kept reminding herself. Hell, it was practically a mantra for her these days, and she repeated it as she moved into warrior two.

Her nights, though…

Her thigh trembled in a way that had nothing to do with the deep lunge. There were definitely perks in this arrangement, and sometimes, in the nonsense talk of afterglow, she felt as if she and Nick were coming to some kind of understanding—she hesitated to use the word
relationship
—that just might be genuine and beyond the ground rules of peaceful coexistence.

Work the bits you can…

“Evie?”

She jumped and turned to find Lottie at the door. “Lottie! Is it eleven already?”

“I knocked, but there was no answer so I let myself in…” Lottie looked worried. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Please don’t apologize. I’m glad you let yourself in. I just lost track of time. Can I get you something to drink?”

Lottie’s unreserved acceptance of her had made Evie’s transition much easier, and she was glad for the friendship. In many ways, Lottie reminded Evie of Bennie: practical and funny and straight to the point, only without Bennie’s wild streak. Plus, Lottie was her husband’s best friend’s wife, and therefore a fount of information about Nick.

And Lottie’s open personality meant Evie didn’t have to pry for any details, either. Bonus.

But Lottie was Evie’s savior today for an entirely different reason, and she sent Lottie to the sitting room while she got the snacks and drinks from the kitchen. When she returned with the tray, Lottie frowned at her slightly. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to.”

“Believe me when I say I really
want
to. I did this all the time at home. Not to brag, but fundraising is something I’m pretty good at. That and PR. And y’all do so many great things, I’m just blown away.”

Four days ago, when Lottie casually mentioned what the nonprofit center she worked for actually did and how they were trying to raise funds to rehab a community center in one of Las Vegas’ poorest neighborhoods, Evie had pounced gratefully on the project.

“And you’ve saved me from going stir-crazy.” While she
loved
the fact no one in Las Vegas knew her, and therefore had no expectations of her, not having anything at all to do had lost its luster after about four days. “I’m not used to not being busy and doing things, and the walls were already starting to close in.”

Lottie looked around the spacious room and laughed. “You really do need something to do, don’t you?” Picking up the pile of papers Evie had left on the table, she flipped through and whistled in appreciation. “When you do something, you go all out, that’s for sure.”

This wasn’t park benches or the garden club; this was real effect on people’s lives. Social-services counseling, after-school programs, drug and gang and teenage-pregnancy prevention—the Gleason Street Center provided it all. And, yes, Evie was fired up about it. Both HarCorp and the Harrison Family Charitable Trust had funding requests on the appropriate desk—Will’s—already. The computer center and the basketball court were as good as done deals, but Lottie didn’t know that yet.

“You have a very worthwhile project, and I’m just pleased you’ll let me help.”
Where was that spreadsheet?

“I bet Nick’s happy. What did he say when you told him?”

That got her attention. “I haven’t mentioned it. Should I? Is Nick a donor already?” She frowned at that thought;
she’d planned to bring Nick on board later. Maybe with the library project…

Lottie choked on her drink. “You could say that.”

When Lottie didn’t elaborate, Evie knew she was missing an important piece to the puzzle. She leaned back into the corner of the couch and folded her legs under her. “Okay, spill. Give me all the details.”

“Gleason Street is Nick’s—and Kevin’s—old turf. They both grew up not far from there. Did you not know that?”

Evie shook her head. “Nick told me he grew up in North Las Vegas, but since I didn’t know the city, it didn’t mean anything to me at the time.”

And she’d forgotten until now.
Damn.
As part of preparing herself for this project, she’d spent some time researching the area, but she hadn’t made the connection. The whole neighborhood was far below the poverty line; there were drugs and gangs…Evie chose her next words carefully. “Has the neighborhood changed much since then?”

“It’s gotten a little better.”

Oh.
She knew Nick had earned his money and built his business with his own hands, but she hadn’t realized his climb had been
that
steep. “They’ve come a long way, haven’t they?”

Lottie nodded. “And they’re proud of it. Nick actually uses it as a test on people sometimes.”

“A test?” Alarm bells went off in her head. “How?”

“Oh, like when he meets people, he’ll drop it into conversation to see how they react.”

“Really?” Evie thought back to that first night. Nick
had
dropped that nugget of information before he knew she was from Dallas. She’d passed a test without knowing she was even taking it. No wonder Nick wasn’t happy when he found out…

“If you think about it, it’s a good way to cut to the chase with people. Especially the Old-Money types. Just because
your daddy had money that doesn’t make you any better than anyone else.”

Evie’s head snapped up, and she looked carefully to see if Lottie had directed that comment at her, specifically. But Lottie was still scanning printouts and budgets. That “you” must have been a general, nonspecific pronoun. “True. Money doesn’t mean anything about a person’s character.”

“I know that, and you know that, but tell that to some folks.” Lottie laughed, and Evie felt sick. Lottie obviously didn’t know much about her background.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit of a broad generalization? Not all wealthy people are like that.” Granted, Evie knew a lot who were, but not everyone with family money had a superiority complex.

“Precious few, Evie.” Lottie’s eyes grew wide as she read more of Evie’s proposal. “Do you really think we could get some NBA players to come?”

Evie smiled weakly. “We can ask. The worst they can do is say no.” Her stomach tied itself into a painful knot. “Still, you don’t think testing people like that…I mean, it’s a bit childish.”

Lottie smirked. “Tell Nick that.”

“I think I will, as a matter of fact.”
One day.

Lottie shrugged. “You can’t really blame him, though, considering…”

“Considering what?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know at this point, but she
had
to ask.

Lottie looked at her wide-eyed. “Nick hasn’t told you?”

Would I be asking otherwise?
“Guess not, because I’m clueless.”

“Well, it’s probably not my place to go telling you…”

Evie tried hard to keep her voice light. “You have to now. I’m curious.”

“Well, Nick’s mother is—
was
—Farrahlee Grayson.”

Evie wracked her brain but came up empty. Lottie must have been able to tell.

“I keep forgetting you’re not from here. The Grayson family goes way back in Vegas. Not quite a ‘founding family,’ but definitely part of the boom years. There were even rumors that some of the family’s money came from the mob, but that’s neither here nor there. Either way, the Grayson family had bucket loads of money and they made sure everyone knew it.”

The knots in her stomach were getting worse with each word. Evie knew she wasn’t going to like this story at all, but glutton that she was, she had to hear it. And she probably couldn’t stop Lottie now if she tried.

“So, Farrahlee’s a bit of a rebel, and to tick her family off, she finds a guy her parents are guaranteed to hate and swears he’s the one.”

The alarm bells clanged with greater urgency. “Nick’s father.”

“Right. Gus. Farrahlee was just out for kicks, but she ended up pregnant. So, Gus and Farrahlee had to get married. I mean, you couldn’t knock up Big Buddy Grayson’s daughter and
not
marry her.”

Oh, dear Lord.

“Farrahlee’s father buys them a little house, gets Gus a good job and then cuts Farrahlee off without a dime. They last maybe a year or so after Nick was born before Farrahlee didn’t want to play house anymore. She wanted her life, her money, her place as Big Buddy Grayson’s daughter, back.”

This was not good…

“Before Gus knew it, Farrahlee had divorced him, signed away parental rights to Nick and left the state. Gus went to Farrahlee’s family, but they denied that they had any responsibility for Nick at all. Gus slowly began to drink himself to death at that point. He lost his job and the house and they ended up on Gleason Street. Nick had it rough. Really rough.”

Evie sighed as the full meaning of the story landed in her chest like a rock. “Hence the chip on his shoulder.”

“Exactly. His selfish, self-centered, stuck-up rich mother destroyed Gus’s life and damn near destroyed Nick’s. Evie, are you okay? You look pale.”

She felt pale. “Just a little light-headed all of a sudden. I guess I didn’t hydrate enough while I was out there in the heat.”

Lottie, unaware that the world had just shifted, jumped topics. “I’ve always wanted to learn yoga. It seems like a good workout.”

Evie dug deep into her bag of polite tricks. “And I’d love for you to come over sometime and exercise with me. It’s a wonderful way to stretch.” She tried to keep her voice at the same calm level, hiding her desperate curiosity. “So, where are Farrahlee and the rest of the Graysons now?”

Lottie shook her head as if it was a shame, but her voice belied the sentiment. “The family fell on hard times about ten or fifteen years ago. Big Buddy died about then, and they lost pretty much everything. Some folks had to leave town, some folks went to jail…Farrahlee never came back to Vegas, and she died about five years ago. Nick was able to pick Starlight up for a song when they were selling off the last of the Grayson properties.”

“A little comeuppance for the family?”

Lottie laughed. “Nick’s whole existence—much less his success—is a big ol’ poke in the eye for what few Graysons are still around.”

Her nausea grew worse. “Success is the best revenge, they say. Nick’s come a long way. And Kevin, too, obviously.”

“They make a good team. I love him, but I don’t know if Kevin would have had much drive to change his circumstances if Nick hadn’t pushed him. He’s not lazy or anything—he’s just too laid-back to push too much.”

“Kevin and Nick have known each other for a while?”
Which meant Kevin would share Nick’s feelings toward Old Money, and therefore,
her.

“Oh, they’ve been friends since they were like five or something. But Kevin’s story is pretty much the same as half the kids’ at Gleason Street—absent father, mother on drugs…”