KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys (20 page)

A
s we walk back
to the house a few hours later, my head spins.

But that’s mostly because I had about four pints at the bar.

Which for me, is a lot.

Like, loads.

Landon is grinning, laughing with Ace. Even Geoffrey is joining in, which is weird. Apparently those boys had a heart to heart; I’d ask about it but right now I don’t want anything to sour my mood. My silly, drunk, everything-feels-possible mood.

I know Landon is about ten steps ahead of me in this relationship–because I know he is all about that double wedding. Which is a thousand kinds of ridiculous, never in hell going to happen—I have a mother and a daughter expecting me home in a few days.

But I don’t want to ruin what we have, right now, by telling him my secret.

When I told him I loved him, I meant it. I mean it. I do. I want to be all in with him. Tomorrow, when I’m recovered from this hangover and my vision is less blurry, I’ll lay it all out for him. And then he can decide what he wants to do next.

Maybe it’s the highs and lows of this trip, but I think Landon is worth getting my heart broken over.

The way he holds me, sees me, wants me–it’s filling a hole that has been in my heart for so many years.

I want that hole to be filled, by him.

Emmy, Tess, and I are trying to include Fiona in our jokes—mostly obnoxious ones—as we stumble along the road home. The guys are in step with us, listening but mostly making dick jokes and trying to trip one another.

“Ohmigod,” Tess moans. “My feet are killing me. I need a man to carry me home. That would be the best.”

“I know, right?” Emmy laughs. “I would love to have a red carpet under my feet right now, and just have someone waiting to pamper me.”

“And by someone, you mean a man, right?” Tess asks.

“No way, I have my man,” Emmy says, cracking up.

“Damn straight, you do,” Ace says, grabbing her ass, making her squeal.

“True, we may have men,” I say, looking at Landon and smiling. “But I hear you, Tess. Especially home in Vegas, it is all about catering to men. What about the women?”

“I know,” Tess moans. “I’d love to just show up at a club and be, like, given the royal treatment.”

“Makes sense,” Fiona says. “Every club in London is set up to serve the men, too. I want to go somewhere and feel like a queen. Feel completely gorgeous.”

“Right?” Tess says. “Have it be about the ladies, and what they want, instead of us in our fishnets and bustiers, just being eye candy for the men. What about a club that was full of eye candy for the women, with
cock waiters
? Get it? Instead of cocktail waitresses?”

Emmy laughs. “Tess is officially drunk, folks.”

And then the joking passes, and it’s as if we’ve all looked around at the same moment, with our arms slung around one another’s shoulders, smiles written across our faces and our hearts, the bright moon heavy in the dark sky, the grass and the trees and the air so fresh, so alive. It’s like we all notice that, and feel more alive for seeing it. More grateful. More aware.

Aware of how freaking precious this is. To have found love. To have found one another. And I squeeze Emmy and Tess tighter, just full of freaking gratitude.

And then I look over my shoulder, and see Landon and Ace—Geoffrey’s there too—laughing about something and they’re just beaming, so drunk and happy. And all at once my feelings bubble to the surface.

Not in an obnoxious way ... in an
I’m finally seen my life for what it is
way.

I’ve been fighting against letting anyone in for years, because I was scared of getting hurt—but the moment I said yes to love and Landon and Emmy and Tess, the moment I let down my guard, I can finally see my life for what it is.

Pretty freaking great.

“Thanks for coming,” I tell Emmy and Tess.

“Of course,” Tess says. “We should come back to England in the summer. I bet it’s so pretty then.”

“Oh, it is,” Fiona says. And for some bizarre reason I don’t even care that she’s here, chiming in. In fact, nothing could sour my mood. “We usually go to the summer house in August; it’s on the coast and just lovely.”

“I bet Sophia would like that,” Emmy says.

“She would. She’s never been to the beach.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Tess says. “I’m gonna be the best Auntie.”

“Well, you have some competition,” Emmy says, laughing.

“Yeah, she does,” Fiona adds. And then Fiona looks at me, and I feel something pass between us ... something like understanding. Something that only passes between family.

And that’s when I lose it. Not in a dramatic way. In a s
ilent tears down my face
way. In a
how did I get this lucky?
sort of way.

In an
I don’t want to fuck this up with my past
sort of way.

“Hey, love,” Landon says, pulling me from the pack. “I want to walk you back.”

I let him pull me into his arms, my arms wrapping around his back as we stop, letting the rest off the group walk ahead.

I let myself be here, in this moment, and I know there’s nowhere I’d rather be.

He kisses me under the moon. He kisses me as I fall into him. He kisses me, and I’m a goner.

He kisses me, and I’m his.

* * *

The next morning I get moving at the crack of dawn.

Earlier, even. It’s four-thirty in the morning and I’ve been up all night planning my next move. On the walk home from the pub last night, the girls gave me the idea—though they would never remember their words. They were all so drunk.

But I remember, and I know how to capitalize on it.

I need a job, and I already have the property—now I just need to speak with my investors.

Ace first, but then Jack and McQueen, too.

I pull back the drapes around the bed where Claire is sleeping, wanting to see her one last time before I go. She lays there undressed, sheets wrapped around her, smiling in her sleep from the drunk-sex we had last night after we stumbled up the stairs to our room.

How the fuck did I get so damn lucky?

I dress quickly and then pack a small bag.

On the desk in the room I pen her a short note.

D
ear Claire
,

I have some unexpected business to attend to. I will be back late tomorrow. Don’t worry, nothing bad–everything is going to be just fine.

I love you.

Landon

I
set
it on the bedside table, next to her phone so she won’t miss it, and then leave the room quietly.

I told Ace, last night, to meet me in the kitchen at five this morning—that I needed to talk to him, and that it was important.

He’s there, drinking a cup of coffee when I walk in.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” I say, pouring a mug for myself.

“Hey, my friends matter to me. You know that, bro,” Ace says. “Besides, I needed some Advil. This headache is killer.”

“I glad I didn’t drink too much last night.” Holding the mug in my hands, I take a deep breath. “I need your help, Ace.”

“Anything, man—that’s why I’m fucking awake right now instead of sleeping next to my hot wife.”

I smile. “The thing is ... it’s kind of awkward.”

“Dude. I’ve seen you getting lap dances at strip clubs, seen you throw up after a hard night’s drinking–in a limo–and I’ve unfortunately seen footage from your sex video with what’s-her-name. Those are all things I can’t unsee. I promise, you can say anything to me.”

“Her name was Winnie, and she was a series of unfortunate events. And I have no fucking clue why you watched that video.”

“I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was regular porn. Not my friend. Believe me, I’m more traumatized than you are.”

I shake my head, knowing there are a thousand terrible things from my past. Embarrassing things. Things that I want to stay covered forever—because, shit, I’ve been a fucking wanker.

But I want to be better. Do better.

For Claire.

“I need help getting a few things.”

“Anything.”

“I need a job. Like, today. And if I get the job, I can get the house.”

“Shit,” Ace says, laughing. “You really did need to talk about something important.”

When I don’t laugh, he adds, “Okay. How can I help?”

“I have a few ideas.”

I get out my laptop, and pull up the document I was working on last night after Claire fell asleep. I spent the hours between midnight and now researching and planning, and I think I have an idea. Something that might work, for all of us.

“You know the property that everyone is putting money towards?” I ask.

“Of course I do, asshole,” Ace says, leaning against the countertops. “What were you thinking of doing with it?”

I lay out my plan, and Ace nods encouragingly. He adds his thoughts, and I’m glad I asked for his input. He’s a fucking brilliant businessman.

“You think this will work?” I ask him.

“It’s dope as hell. The girls are gonna love it.”

I nod, still nervous. I’ve got a huge day ahead of me.

“And you’re okay with giving me the loan?”

“Fuck, man. I don’t have family besides Emmy. My father used his money to threaten and hurt people.” He shakes his head. “I know I sound like an ass for getting so sappy, but shit, I just feel lucky that I have friends who I can help.”

“I feel like a pussy, needing help.”

“Fuck that,” Ace says. “A real man knows when to ask for help. I asked for everyone’s support when I wanted the property in the first place. Now you can fucking learn how to be a man.”

“By asking for help?”

“Exactly. Now, you need to work this all out right now, today?” he asks.

“Some of it, yes. It can’t wait. Claire deserves a man who has a fucking house and a fucking job.”

Ace doesn’t disagree.

“Good luck, bro.”

And then I leave the estate and get in the car waiting for me, before anyone else wakes up and sees me go.

W
hen I wake up
, my arms stretch out over my head and I yawn, reaching for Landon. But he isn’t here. I’m in the bed alone.

I frown, instantly wanting his warm body, his arms to wrap around me, his early morning stubble to scratch my face. To press against other, more sensitive spots, too.

It’s insane how I went five years without sex and how now I’m horny as hell. Landon woke something up in me ... well, a lot of things. With him, I feel awake in ways I haven’t been in forever.

I need to tell him the truth. I need to tell him everything. And today, I will.

I’m thinking maybe I’ll ask him to go on a quiet drive in the country. Maybe even a picnic, because I am pretty sure that’s what English people do.

Then when the moment is right–but not too right, because the truth is I just need to come clean—I will tell him everything.

“Landon?” I call, pulling back the curtains around the bed. “Are you coming back? I
need
you.”

I fall back on the pillows. So. Freaking. Horny.

My fingers reach down, under the sheet. I’m thinking that when Landon comes back to bed, he will love watching me touch myself.

I press a finger against my opening, spreading my entrance with my other hand, so I can reach deep. Then I begin rubbing at my opening with my thumb. Slow circles, hitting my clit with a deepening pressure.

I close my eyes, sighing as I allow myself to be in this moment, imagining Landon coming back to bed, his massive morning erection ready for me. When his cock is hard, it turns me on so fast.

I loved it when he pressed me against the door last night at the bar, how he pulled up my skirt and fucked me so hard.

Remembering his thickness inside my pussy, I begin to release. Visions of his sexy smile and his soft lips fill my mind. I work in steady circles, flicking at my clit as my pussy starts to get nice and wet.

My toes curl as I move a second finger inside, and I move in and out, in and out, thinking of Landon inside me. My wetness soaks my hand; I’m coming all over myself. I roll over to my side, moaning into my pillows.

I think of Landon’s hands all over my breasts, licking my nipples, and then deepening his thrusts, each memory with him floating over me as I move my hand faster, and faster still.

And I come, not able to wait for him to return to the bed. The intensity within my pussy walls mounts quickly, practically begging to explode.

I imagine his strong hands on my waist, his fingers in my pussy, and press a third finger inside myself, reaching against my g-spot—creating an electric buzz inside me as I pant, pushing, pushing, pushing against that sweet spot as my legs shake.

My body reacts to the orgasms washing over me. Again, and again, and I continue to come, thinking of Landon the entire time. Wanting Landon inside me this very second.

When I’m done, I catch my breath, the longing for him intensifying. I need him inside me now.

I pull back the bed curtains, and call his name again.

But he doesn’t answer. That’s weird. I reach for my phone to see the time, and as I do a piece of paper falls to the floor. I reach for it, seeing my name.

Reading it, my brows furrow.
He left?

I look at the phone, see that it’s nine a.m. I immediately text him.

But he doesn’t respond. Huh. He always answers.

I call, and it goes straight to voice mail.

“Hey, babe. Saw your note and just wondering were you went, exactly. Anyways, I just woke up, and am thinking of you.”

I end the call and get up, realizing that there’s no point in staying in bed alone.

I only want to be waking up beside him.

* * *

O
nce I’m showered
and dressed, I call my mom and chat with her and Sophia.

“Everything okay there?” I ask.

“Honey, we’re great,” my mom says. “Sophia and I are fine. I just hope you’re having fun, too. Not working too hard?”

“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing work. I’m having an amazing time.” I pause, wondering if I should tell her how I’ve fallen for Landon ... but I’m not ready for her response.

I have a pretty good idea of what that will be. She’s the only one who knows the truth. We had enough disagreements about it right after Sophia was born, and I made her swear to never say another word about it. Ever.

And she has listened to my request.

But I’ve also never brought a man home, never fallen in love. Never got fake-engaged. Never wanted to be
real engaged.

And now I can’t keep running. Now I need to clean up the mess I made a long time ago.

But I want to talk it through with Landon before I say anything to my mom. Because if Landon ends things with me once he learns that I’m a liar and a cheat, then I will have riled my mom up for nothing.

“Thank you for everything, Mom.”

“When are you coming home again?” she asks. “Was it Sunday or Monday?”

“I’m actually not sure. I’ll ask Landon and get back to you. Did you need me back at a certain time?”

“Honey, we both know I have nothing going on besides Bravo television. I think we’ll be okay.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

When I walk downstairs for breakfast, I’m slightly embarrassed by the time of day; it’s already ten in the morning. But when I enter the sitting room, I realize I have nothing to blush over. The place is empty except for Helen.

She sits with a book in her lap, and smiles warmly at me when I walk in.

“Am I interrupting?” I ask.

“Oh, not at all,” she says, closing her book. “You kids must have had a fun night; this house is as quiet as a mouse.”

“It was a good time,” I say, sitting in the chair beside her. “Though, I was surprised when I woke this morning. I had a note from Landon that he had to leave on business?”

“He did? I don’t know anything of it.”

“Really?” I pull back in surprise. “Where did he go then?”

She shrugs delicately. “I’m not sure, Claire, but he said he’ll be back tomorrow, and I’m sure he will stay true to that.”

“Right.” I smile tightly. I so wanted to talk to him today, to get everything off my chest, so that, however we move forward with our relationship, we can at least stop being dishonest with everyone.

I hate sitting here with Helen now, knowing she thinks Landon and I are something we aren’t.

At least not exactly.

Because while we aren’t really engaged, we are really in love.

Which is why him leaving like this is so strange.

* * *

When Ace’s private plane lands, I step into the desert air with a grin. McQueen and Jack are waiting for me. I’m fucking glad Ace called them, because we have a lot of shit to discuss.

“What the hell, man?” Jack asks, the moment I take a seat in the limo. “Ace said you fucking proposed to Claire?”

“Right. I did. But.”

“But what?”

“Okay, can I be straight with you guys? Like, you promise not to go ape-shit on me? I couldn’t tell Ace, because he’s at my parents’ place, and Claire and I want to keep this on the down-low. I mean, it won’t matter in the long run, but now–”

“Dude, just fucking say it.”

The limo is turning onto the freeway and I give the driver the address of where I need to go first.

“Okay, so we aren’t really engaged. She’s my fake fiancée.”

I explain the deal to them, and they shake their heads the whole time.

“Man,” Jack says. “Claire seems so straight-laced, so put together ... I can’t believe she agreed to this.”

“Well, I told her I’d give her a quarter of a million dollars if we pulled it off.”

“So what’s the problem?” McQueen asks.

“Two things. One, my dad’s company is bankrupt, as I told Ace to explain.”

“He did,” Jack says.

“And, two, Claire and I fell in love, for fucking real.”

“You’re not messing with us?” Jack asks.

“No. Swear to God. But here’s the kicker: Claire has a daughter.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” McQueen asks, punching me in the arm. “Shit, you are so over your head, bro.”

I shrug. “I disagree. I love that woman, and her having a daughter doesn’t change that.”

“Love conquers all, right?” Jack shakes his head. “Fuck, man, I don’t know. I have a feeling nothing is as easy as that.”

“That’s just because you’re dating a fucking superstar,” I tell him. “Your judgment on how real women act is skewed.”

As I tell them this, I realize maybe I should have consulted Ace before I left.

But, fuck it, I want Claire to know I’m all in. When I return to my family’s estate with a job and house and a fucking plan for my dad’s business, she’ll know I’m the only man she needs.

* * *

T
he limo stops
in the parking lot, and I explain my plan to McQueen and Jack.

“It’s fucking go time, bro,” McQueen says.

I take a deep breath, nodding, and then I open the door.

“Good luck,” Jack says through the open window.

I turn toward the building and knock on the door.

I don’t know what to expect. I just know I need to ask to speak to Claire’s mom alone, and then lay it out there.

I’ve never been so goddamned nervous in my life.

I’m never nervous when I’m with Claire. With her, life makes sense. But right now, I don’t have my woman by my side.

I knock. The door opens after a moment, and a woman who looks a few decades older than Claire opens the door.

“Hello?” she asks, eyebrows raised.

“Eva?” I ask, remembering the name Claire told me was her mother’s. I reach out my hand to her. “I’m Landon, a friend of your daughter?”

She takes it, shaking it slowly. “Aren’t you supposed to be with her, in England? For work?” She lets go of my hand and tilts her head to the side, trying to understand. She’s a trim woman, with cropped blonde hair and those same green eyes Claire has.

“I was.”

“Is she here?” Eva asks. “Because I just spoke with her earlier and she never mentioned....”

“No,” I say, needing to clarify. “She’s still in England. I came over on my own, because I wanted to speak with you.”

“Me?” She laughs. “What do I have to do with anything?”

Behind her, I see a flash of blonde hair and a small girl calling for her Gram.

“Gram, come back, come play,” the girl calls from down the hall.

Sophia.

I didn’t see her face, or meet her, but her voice proves she is in fact real. Really Claire’s daughter.

I swallow. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. No second-guessing. No hesitation.

“Could I speak with you a moment?” I ask Eva. “Privately?”

“Give me a minute, okay? I’ll get Sophia on a show.” Eva turns back into the condo, and I hear her helping Sophia with the television.

She returns after a moment. “Bubble Guppies.” She shrugs as if I have any clue what those words mean. “She’s obsessed with the show.”

I nod, now understanding. Knowing I have an awful lot to learn, if Claire will have me.

“You have me worried,” Eva says, keeping the door slightly ajar and stepping out of the house. “Is everything okay, truly?”