Defying the Odds (24 page)

Wyatt laughed. “They say they’re gambling, but I think the betting odds are against that. They’re blowing off steam somewhere.”

“Ah,” Melody said with a grin. “I suppose this is the place to do it.”

“True.” Clay lifted his head to give her a conspiratorial look. “They’re doing something highly inappropriate; I’m sure of it.”

Melody laughed and looked to Jules, who was eyeing her steak with blasé disinterest. Jules took another bite, chewing it thoughtfully as she glanced around the restaurant, obviously aware of the whispering and pointing that was coming from the other patrons. Not that she seemed too concerned with it or the inappropriate deeds of Clay’s coaches.

“You know,” Jules started as she reached for her glass of wine, “for the amount of money they expect for this meal, I
ain’t
all that impressed.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Wyatt asked, pulling a face at Jules’s plate.
“Looks fine to me.”

“Maybe it’s just me.” Jules took another long drink of the burgundy liquid glittering under the dim lighting. “But if I pay eighty bucks for a piece of meat, that thing better vibrate. I want long-lasting satisfaction outta the investment.”

Melody coughed into her glass of wine and had to cup her hand to her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud. She knew Wyatt and Jules had started drinking while they’d waited, but she hadn’t realized how much it loosened Jules’s tongue until right then.

“Thank you, Jules,” Wyatt growled, pulling a disgusted face as he tossed down his knife and fork with a loud clatter that likely drew more attention. “You’ve just ruined a perfectly fine meal and totally grossed me out in the process.”

“Bonus,” Jules said, looking pleased with
herself
as she took another drink. She turned to Melody conspiratorially.
“Like they can get high-and-mighty ’bout that.
I do their laundry half the time, and neither one of ’
em
can throw stones over what I got hidden in my happy drawer. Some of those towels were looking pretty—”

“You might
wanna
dig into that steak,” Clay said, looking up from his plate to give Jules a pointed look.
“’Cause you’re drunk.”

“Nah.”
Jules shook her head. “I’m just buzzed.”

“The second you start talking ’bout your happy drawer with Wyatt and me in the room, you’re drunk. That should be your red flag,” Clay said with a sad shake of his head. “Pretty soon you’re
gonna
start talking ’bout your past boyfriends, and we’re
gonna
have to excuse ourselves.”

Jules considered that for one long moment before she sighed. “It has been a while. I’m ’bout to call one of ’
em
up, even if they were all worthless. Half of something’s better than all of nothing, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Melody said, trying to follow Jules’s reasoning and be polite.

“Small.” Jules leaned into Melody, holding her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “I’m cursed. ’
Cept
this one guy in college, but I was drunk—”

“
Sorta
like now,” Wyatt intercepted, eyes wide.

“And he wasn’t that good.” Jules sighed.
“Big dick, untalented tongue, bad, bad moves.
Isn’t thrusting a natural male instinct? How hard is it to get right?”

Melody looked behind her, because Jules’s voice carried. She couldn’t tell if they were pointing because of Clay and Wyatt or Jules and her unlucky bout with men. Either way she couldn’t fight the amused laugh bursting out of her.

Clay looked nonplussed by Jules’s dramatics as he turned to Melody. “Makes
ya
wish she’d stuck with the happy drawer.”

Jules huffed, cutting at her meat with lackluster interest. “Chances are I’m
gonna
die sad, old, and alone. There
ain’t
no
guy in Garnet who wants me as his girl. I’m
gonna
spend the rest of my days living with my
brother
.”

They all fell silent after that. Melody’s heart hurt at the confession. She realized how intimidating Jules could be. Most folks in Garnet liked her and everyone depended on her, but she didn’t appear to have any real friends. She was the only lawyer for two towns. Jules could handle anything from divorce to setting up a business, and it seemed to Melody that she did it really well. Jules was just too married to her work.

Wyatt stared at the table unseeing, as if considering Jules’s ominous prediction. He reached out and picked up his wine. He downed half the contents and then reached for the bottle on the table to refill his glass. “I think you may have put me off steak for life. Thanks for that.”

“Aw, don’t fret,
Wy
. Hal could always hire another pretty waitress. Look at Clay. We didn’t think he was ever getting himself a real girl, but lo and behold. Then again you’d done gave away your heart a long time ago, didn’t
ya
? There
ain’t
any pretty waitresses in your future.” Jules let out a bitter laugh, giving Wyatt a wide, crystal-eyed stare of pity. “You’re dying old and alone with me.”

“Yeah, that’s real funny.” Wyatt glared. For the first time since Melody met him, he seemed subdued and dispirited from his usual sparkling personality. “Laugh it up.
It’s
gonna
be a real riot when you’re crying ’bout your pathetic love life to the porcelain god in your hotel room.”

“Oh, you’re getting nasty,” Jules said with a wince, not looking too put out by the hostility.
“Touched a sensitive spot, I think.”

Wyatt took another long drink of wine, all his usual good humor gone as he narrowed light eyes at his sister. “Fuck you, Jules.”

“Aren’t
ya
glad we decided to have dinner here instead of order room service?” Clay asked Melody with a false civility. “And I was pissed off at them
before
the server let them drink.”

“I won you that fight,” Wyatt said defensively. “You’d have lost if it weren’t for Jules dragging Melody here. You needed motivation, and I provided it.”

“That’s just it; it matters more to you,” Clay said sadly. “Maybe you do
gotta
try and move on. Work and fighting’s all you got. You can’t pine for Tab—”

“You’ve gone soft.” Wyatt cut him off. “It was a fucking miracle
Wellings
didn’t kill you.”

“Whatever.” Clay shrugged, looking back to his dinner, his jaw clenched for one long moment. Then he lifted his head, glaring at both siblings across the table. “Neither of you won me that fight.
I
won ’cause I spent most my life working hard at it, and Melody
ain’t
just some pretty waitress. She’s a lot more than that, and just ’cause she
ain’t
got a fancy sheriff’s badge or a bunch of diplomas hanging on her wall doesn’t mean you can talk ’bout her like that. She’s got grit and she’s got courage, so until either of you know what it’s like to leave
everything
behind ’cause you know you deserve better, you need to just shut your traps.”

“I didn’t,” Jules said quickly, looking abashed. “I mean, she
is
very pretty, but I know she’s more than that. I didn’t mean—”

“It sure sounded like you meant it.” Clay growled, giving both of them a furious glare. “You’re embarrassing me seeing as how you
two’s
the only folks I got to introduce her to as friends
or
family. You need to stop drinking and eat your steak.”

“
It’s
okay, Clay,” Melody whispered, seeing the pity party for what it was.

Wyatt and Jules were both lonely individuals, and until recently Clay had been right there along with them. They felt like they were losing one of their own, and it was magnifying their isolation from a world that took a lot from them and gave very little in return. She reached over, clasped Jules’s hand in hers, and squeezed tightly.

Jules squeezed her hand back, giving Melody a watery smile. “I like you a lot, you know that, right? I’m so happy Clay found someone to love him.”

“I like you too.” Melody smiled back at Jules indulgently. “But don’t be telling people I love him; I
ain’t
even told
him
yet.”

She turned and looked to Clay hesitantly, wondering if her words were too bold. Clay met her gaze head-on. The relief in his dark eyes was palatable. The smile tugging at his lips was genuine and pleased. The tension fell out of his shoulders, and he broke eye contact to look back down to his meal. He picked up his fork, stabbing at a cut piece of meat, and Melody got the message loud and clear—he loved her too.

Melody was starting to wish she’d gone to the Clay
Powers’s
school of social graces. There was a wicked side of her that wanted to know what it was like to slam a door in people’s faces, with a clipped
Time to fuck off
.

Clay leaned a hand against the door of the suite, looking skyward. “
Conners
shouldn’t drink. Christ,
whatta
train wreck.”

Melody laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as she pressed her ear to the door. She could hear Jules and Wyatt arguing down the hallway as they walked to their rooms, because both of them had voices that could wake the dead.

“Do you really think they’re
gonna
die alone?” Melody asked when she was certain they were too far away to hear her through the door.

“Maybe.”
Clay shrugged, seeming to consider it for a moment. He winced, a look of genuine sadness crossing his gruff features.
“Probably.”

Melody sighed because she liked both of them. Even Wyatt’s smooth-talking ways weren’t so bad. At least he attempted to use his charisma for good, which was more than she had to say for most charmers. And Jules was bold and outspoken in a way Melody admired. The idea that neither one of them had another half out there
was
suddenly very depressing.

Feeling guilty for laughing a second ago, she left the foyer and walked to the main area of the suite. One wall was nothing but massive panels of glass, leaving the entire room open to the skyline at night. While Melody would never want to live in the city again, even one that was as enlivening as Las Vegas, she’d always had a thing for city lights at night. She couldn’t imagine anywhere with more color and lights at night than Las Vegas. She sat on the bench facing the floor-to-ceiling windows and took in the magnificent scene.

Clay sat next to her. He pulled his cap off, tossing it on the bench. Then he reached out, grasping her hand and holding it in his. “You never know what time will bring. Wyatt and Jules could find someone, maybe when they least expect it. I thought I was
gonna
die old and alone too, you know?”

Melody took a shuddering breath and turned to look at him.
“Me too.”

He squeezed her hand tightly in his, giving her a secret smile. “Not if I have anything to say ’bout it.”

“How’d this happen?” Melody asked in a stunned whisper. She never expected to fall in love and certainly not this swiftly or with this much finality. “We just met.”

“I don’t believe that,” Clay argued as he turned her palm over in his and traced the lines of it with the pad of his finger. “I’m pretty sure we’ve known each other forever. Seeing you the first time was like coming home, and there
ain’t
been anything to happen since that’s disabused me of the notion.”

“Yeah,” Melody agreed, the bright skyline blurring to a sea of vibrant color. She remembered seeing Clay in Hal’s Diner the first time. Alone and eating his turkey, she’d been compelled to reach out to him. “Do you really believe in soul mates?”

“I do now.”

Clay leaned into her, his fingers threading into her hair at the nape of her neck. Melody was pliant, letting him pull her to him. When he captured her lips, she parted to the thrust of his tongue, already lost to the white-hot current of attraction that constantly pulsed between them.

Clay tasted like dessert and expensive red wine. Melody was drunk with him the moment they connected. She’d waited all day to get to a place where she was one pulse, one throb of desire with Clay. She hiked up her dress and straddled his hips without reservation. Melody threaded her fingers into his short black hair and took control of the kiss. She pushed her tongue into Clay’s mouth, and he groaned at the domination. It was a wildly empowering moment, having such a tall, strongly built, truly dangerous man quivering and yearning for her.