Dirty Sex (16 page)

of fifteen, Reese and I didn’t let him pick out his own clothes. Even

weirder, Reese had picked out some clothes for me. I think the girl just

liked men’s suits, but she didn’t like to wear them so she dressed Ryan

and me up like Ken dolls.

“That she does.” We were at the virtually empty private pool

watching the heat rise in waves from the ground. It was sort of hypnotic.

“Hey, happy birthday.” Ryan held out his mimosa and I tapped mine

against it.

“Thanks.”

He hooked a finger in his oversized aviators to look at me. “You

feel old?”

“Yep.”

“Me too.” The sunglasses went back into place.

“So what’s with the bathing suit?” I’d been holding back all

morning. It was time to ask.

“What’s wrong with my bathing suit?” We both looked down at

the very slim mid-thigh length trunks. They were cream and deep blue,

which looked damn good against his dark skin, but I wasn’t going to

tell him that.

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“Just a little shorter than usual.” Actually, they weren’t bad. Ryan

had the muscle in his legs to pull them off. “Way shorter. And super

tight. You see James Bond wearing them and thought you’d try it out?”

Ryan’s jaw dropped. “Daniel Craig. How’d you know?”

“You’re so transparent, darlin’. At least you kept your chest hair.”

We both looked down at all four of his chest hairs. His St. Christopher

hung on its long silver chain just below them. It was bigger than the

patch of hair.

“Sometimes I hate you,” he said unconvincingly. “Should I put on

my shirt?”

“No, you’re hot.” He was. “Just lacking hair.”

“You know I was going to give you your birthday present, but now

there’s no way in hell.”

“I thought the party was my birthday present.” News to me. I

wasn’t going to complain about more presents though.

“Sort of. Reese and I talked about something else though. I couldn’t

convince her last year, but…” He waved his hand through the air, which

made him look exactly like his sister. “Never mind, you’ll see.”

“That really didn’t tell me much.”

“Doesn’t matter. Be patient.”

“Why’d you mention it in the first place? Now I’m all curious.”

“It builds the anticipation.” He smirked.

One of the cell phones on the table between us vibrated. It was

mine. “Damn.” I fumbled the phone open. “What’s up?” Only two

people had the number and one was sitting next to me.

“Happy birthday,” said Reese. “Are you as hung over as I am?”

“Totally. The cure is to drink more.” A mantra we’d been living by

for most of the summer.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Not much of a drinker, that girl.

“We’re having mimosas.”

“Well, I just ordered brunch. You guys want to come back to the

room? I can order more mimosas if you want.”

“You rock.”

“I know.” She hung up.

“What did she want?” Ryan asked when I set the phone down.

“She ordered brunch for us. You want to go?”

“Yeah.” We stood and Ryan’s phone went off. “Why’s she calling

me now? Hello?” Ryan reached out and grabbed my arm. “No way.

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All right, cool. Yeah, I’ll call.” He hung it up and looked at me with

feverish eyes. “Our first shipment is ready.”

We weren’t so good at codes. I was pretty sure that meant the fake

IDs. “No way. Are we driving up?”

“One of us will have to. Paulie said he’d overnight them, but it’s

probably not a great idea.”

“Considering what they are, no shit.” Sometimes I had to help him

with the most obvious things.

“Let’s go eat breakfast and then we’ll figure it out.”

“Works for me.”

❖

I’d never had such good French toast. Reese ordered all my

favorites right down to the coffee. Italian roast. The girl knew what was

up. After we ate, we collapsed facing the windows and watching the

Strip. It was way less sexy in the daylight.

“So I figured I’d drive back up to San Francisco,” Ryan said. “I

mean, it’s your birthday and Reese drives so slow it would take days.”

I considered arguing. Driving sixteen hours there and back

sounded really unappealing though. “I’ll go with you if you want.”

“No, it’s cool.”

“Okay,” I folded.

“Hey, wait. Don’t I get a say?” Reese didn’t look happy at the

evaluation of her driving.

“Not really,” Ryan said.

“Do I get my present before you go?” I really couldn’t follow too

many trains of thought at once.

“You told her?”

“Only that there was a present.” Ryan moved out of hitting range.

Reese swatted at him anyway. “I didn’t tell her what it was.”

“I guess we have to give it to her now.” Reese disappeared into her

bedroom and came back out with a velvet box the size of my fist. She

tossed it into my lap.

“You guys got me jewelry?” Boxes like that are pretty distinctive.

“Just open it.” Ryan was literally on the edge of his seat.

“Okay.” So I did. Inside was a St. Christopher like theirs. It was a

little bigger and wasn’t quite as ornate. It was also very familiar. “Oh

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AShley BArtlett

my God. No way.” I glanced up and Ryan nodded. Reese was smiling

but trying to hide it. “No, you didn’t. You can’t give me this.”

“Sure we can.” Ryan reached out and took the box from me. He

pulled out the long silver chain and put it over my head. “She would be

proud to give it to you.”

“This was your mom’s. You can’t give me it.”

“Cooper,” Reese cut in. “You’ve always wanted one.”

“Not this one.” My fingers automatically started playing up and

down the chain.

“We want you to have this one.” She placed her hand on top of

mine. “It looks good on you.”

It was kind of hard to argue with both of them. “You guys are

sure?”

“Yes,” they both nearly shouted.

“Thank you. I love it.”

“We know.” Ryan leaned over and kissed my cheek. I kissed him

back. “If you lose it there will be hell to pay.”

“Hell.” Reese kissed my other cheek. It felt entirely different

kissing her back.

“Thanks.”

“Okay, now that that’s over with, I’m going to go.” Ryan stood.

“I’ll be back tomorrow probably.”

“What? Right now? No, you’re not.” I abandoned the couch to

follow him into his room as he picked up stuff to bring with him.

“It’s one o’clock. If I go now I can be back by tomorrow morning.”

“Hell no. We’re partying tonight.”

“We should really pick up the IDs.”

“Why rush? It’s my twenty-first birthday and we’re in fucking Las

Vegas.” It seemed logical to me. “We have to live it up.”

“Fuck.” Ryan dropped the backpack he was holding. “We’re in

fucking Vegas for your fucking twenty-first birthday,” he screamed.

“How the fuck did that happen? Reese.” He sprinted back out to the

main room. “Reese. Vegas. Twenty-one.”

“Ryan.” I followed him out. “Hey, Ryan.” He finally looked at me.

“We already knew that.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t, like, catch on, you know?”

Reese and I stared at each other, a little worried about him.

I decided to step up. “Darlin’, remember how we always tell you to

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smoke less weed?” He nodded. We’d only told him a million times. “I

think you just proved why.”

“You guys are mean.” He pouted.

Reese and I nodded. We were mean. “So are you going to stay so

we can go out?”

“Duh.” My best friend was such a genius.

❖

We lost Reese five minutes after stepping onto the casino floor. It

was probably good that she had suggested that we stay in one casino all

night. Didn’t want to get lost or anything. Not that it mattered. We were

there to have a good time. The hotel casino was a step up from the usual.

Just like our hotel suite, it was all trendy and art deco and subtle class,

but underneath that, it was still a casino. Slot machines covered the

elaborate carpet, and there were still unshaven, unclean men wandering

around looking decimated. Ryan and I were just playing the part of

gamblers. Mostly because we had no clue how to gamble. Slots were

fun because they required no thought. Blackjack was cool because we

could add to twenty-one. Craps looked cool, but we couldn’t follow it

so we stayed away. After all those James Bond movies, we probably

should have understood it, but, oh well. A couple hours in, we were

pretty much breaking even. I was up ten bucks. Ryan was down about

fifteen. Not too bad.

“Where do you think Reese is?”

“Dunno.” Ryan handed me another beer from one of the beautiful,

though slightly vapid waitresses.

“Should we find her? I want to go hit up that club.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to lose any more money. Makes me feel like a

loser.” He pouted his beautiful lips and tried to summon some tears to

his eyes. They were shot through with sensuous gray. He was definitely

drunk.

“Darlin’, when you lose money, you are a loser. That’s where the

name comes from.”

“You always know how to make a boy feel good.” He gave me

a sloppy smile. We slung our arms around each other and started

wandering through the casino looking for Reese. Our efforts didn’t get

us far. Thirty minutes later, we were drunker and no closer to finding

Ryan’s sexier half.

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AShley BArtlett

“Excuse me.” I got the attention of a waitress. “Have you seen a

really hot girl who looks like him?” I pointed to Ryan. “But like super

hotter than him.” That was kind of what I was trying to say.

“You mean Ms. DiGiovanni?” she asked. Whoa.

“That’s her.” Ryan didn’t seem to notice that some waitress knew

his sister by name. Or if he did, he didn’t care.

“She’s in the back playing poker. If you’d like I can show you

where.” The woman offered with a smile. Helpful.

“That’dbegreat.” No more beer for Ryan.

The waitress took off weaving through people, smiling at some,

ignoring others. At the back of the casino, she escorted us into the poker

room and pointed us toward Reese.

“Thanks,” I attempted, but she was already gone.

Ryan and I leaned against the wall and watched Reese. She didn’t

look nearly as lost as she should have. Actually, she looked totally

sexy. Her soft, pale pink shirt was unbuttoned about halfway down her

sternum giving an appropriately tormenting view of tanned cleavage.

Wide cuffs were turned up to just below her elbow, which made her

look like a swindler and a poker player all at the same time. I couldn’t

see her eyes; they were hidden by Ryan’s oversized aviators. She was

smoking a slim cigar. I wasn’t close enough, but I knew that, under the

reek of cigar smoke, it smelled faintly of honey.

In a practiced motion, she pushed her hair back and deliberately

placed her cards on the fabric-covered table. Around her, the other

players and few spectators leaned back with resigned faces.

“Ryan.” He stopped playing with his tie long enough to look at

me. “She looks like she knows what she’s doing.”

“So?” He leaned over and tried to play with my tie. His must have

gotten boring.

“Stop it.” I smacked his hand away.

“Come on. Let’s go.” Great, he’d entered his drunk and whining

phase.

“Fine. I’ll go get her.” I left him leaning against the wall and made

for Reese.

I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You look like a real poker

player.”

Her shoulders stiffened, only for a second and then she relaxed.

“Gentlemen.” She turned to the only other woman at the table, a

striking blonde with creamy freckled skin. “And lady.” Reese flashed

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that grin like Ryan’s. Instantly, I was jealous. “Thank you for the game,

but I’m being summoned.” She stood, tipped the dealer, and slid her

arm through mine. I straightened, assuming the role of escort, and led

her back to Ryan.

“Whoa.” Ryan looked up from the carpet he was studying. “You

guys look like a couple.”

Reese and I looked at each other. Her wide legged, dark gray pants

looked good next to my slim charcoal slacks. Our shirts were different,

mine was plain white, but the tie I was wearing was pale pink and gray.

We looked like we’d dressed together. Like fuckin’ high school prom.

“Shit, it’s the tie isn’t it?”

“I didn’t even notice.” Reese was as thrown as I was.

“Ryan, trade ties with me.” I started loosening mine, until I looked

at his. “Sailboats? That is so lame.”

“Yeah, keep yours,” Reese said after studying Ryan’s tie.

“What’s wrong with sailboats?” He lifted it closer to his face.

“Your dad gave me this tie.”

“And he’s so fashionable.” I loved my father, really, but there was

no way I’d wear his clothes.

“Anyway, I like this one.” Reese drew her fingers down my tie.

“Why are you guys agreeing?” Ryan looked shocked. “Don’t be

nice to each other. I don’t like it.”

“You always wanted us to get along. Why are you complaining

now?” I teased him.

“Well, you can get along. Just don’t team up on me.”

“How drunk is he?” Reese leaned closer to look at his eyes. “I