Читать книгу Her Sexy Vegas Cowboy - Ali Olson - Страница 11
ОглавлениеAARON LEANED BACK against the supple leather of his seat and pictured the woman from the airport, imagining her walking toward him and giving him a sexy smile. She hadn’t given him one, but he knew it was there, hiding, waiting for the right moment. He only pulled out of his reverie when he noticed Jeremiah leaning against the car door and staring at him, his arms crossed.
“What are you thinking about? Did you hear anything I was saying?”
Aaron had been so absorbed in his fantasy he hadn’t even realized his friend was talking. After a pause, he admitted, “I—was thinking about this woman I just met in the airport.”
“You met a girl? Already? Where was I?”
“It was when we were leaving the gate, so I’m guessing you were still flirting with the flight attendant.”
Jeremiah nodded his agreement. “I love flight attendants.”
“You have never managed to get one to go out with you. Not once. You know that, right?”
Jeremiah shrugged. “Well, sure, but if I keep trying, one of them is bound to think I’m adorable one of these days.”
Jeremiah linked his fingers behind his head and leaned back, completely content in his failure. Even after being friends for pretty much their entire lives, Jeremiah’s tenacity and good humor never ceased to amaze Aaron.
After a few seconds of quiet reverie, Jeremiah turned his attention back to Aaron. “So, this girl you met. Hot?”
Aaron nodded. That didn’t even begin to describe her.
“Did you set something up with her? Get her name and number?”
If only.
“I managed to give her mine before she took off, but I didn’t get hers. I don’t think she’ll call, though.”
Jeremiah shrugged again. “If she calls, great. If she doesn’t, no big loss.”
He was always so accepting of any situation, Aaron never quite knew if it was admirable or annoying.
Jeremiah continued, “We’ve been in Vegas for ten minutes and you already found a girl, and she definitely won’t be the only beautiful lady you see this weekend. We’ll find some chicks that make her look like Mrs. Jessup in comparison, no matter how pretty she was.”
Aaron seriously doubted that, but he didn’t attempt to explain it. He vividly remembered Mrs. Jessup, their seventh grade teacher, and the woman in the airport would never look anything like that, no matter what supermodel she was standing next to.
He couldn’t describe how he felt to his friend, but it wasn’t just that the woman from the airport was attractive. She was, but that wasn’t all there was to this—this whatever it was. He’d seen plenty of beautiful women in his life, but none of them had struck him the way she did. None of them made his blood light on fire just by looking at him. There was something about the way she carried herself, something about the discerning look in her eyes.
There was no way to say any of that to Jeremiah, and it didn’t matter, anyway. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do to make her call him. She had run away so quickly after he gave her his number, and now the moment and the woman had disappeared. Normally he would’ve been more eloquent, more convincing, but she had made it hard to think straight.
He tried to shift his thinking to focus on the rodeo and the other women he’d meet. He even tried to picture Olivia, who he’d met up with every year and was expecting to see at the big team roping event on Saturday. She was an amazing blonde, voluptuous in all the right places and always willing to spend an evening at his side. But his thoughts kept straying back to the woman from the airport.
The car slid through the airport traffic, passing by the rodeo venue on its way to the hotel. The entire thing was covered in banners with pictures of horses and National Finals Rodeo written everywhere in huge letters. Jeremiah bounced in his seat. “Man, I love rodeo weekend!”
Aaron chuckled. “I know. You’ve said that about thirty times since we left this morning.”
“But it’s true! The NFR is awesome. Great events, Vegas, beautiful women everywhere and this year, my team is going to kill it. But mostly the women.”
They arrived at the hotel before the two men had even sunk fully into the plush leather seats. They were staying at the Hard Rock Hotel, a mile or so from the airport and within walking distance of the rodeo venue, making it the perfect location.
As taxis full of cowboys headed toward Las Vegas Boulevard, Jeremiah rolled his eyes. “Why does anyone stay on the Strip?”
When Aaron and Jeremiah went to the NFR years ago for the first time as single adults without supervision, they’d stayed in the Bellagio, a grandiose affair, thinking it would put them in the middle of the party. They’d realized quickly that it just put them in the middle of Las Vegas Boulevard traffic. The surroundings didn’t make up for the inconvenient distance they had to travel each day, which had to be driven through at a crawl.
They grabbed their bags and walked into the darkened casino.
Hard Rock, though off-Strip, was still iconic and interesting enough for Aaron’s taste, and he’d found the suites to be perfectly satisfying, to put it mildly. Walking the short distance with his arm wrapped around a woman’s waist and leading her into his room never went wrong.
He couldn’t help wondering, though, if the woman he’d seen would be in one of the big hotels on the Strip, and that maybe he should’ve gotten a room there instead. If she didn’t call, at least there would still be a possibility he could spot her again walking through one of the casinos.
Practically rolling his eyes at his own thoughts, he gave himself a mental shake. It was time to stop focusing on this one woman. If she called, she called. He couldn’t let something as little as a chance meeting of eyes disrupt his entire weekend, even if picturing her sent a strange new thrill through his chest...and elsewhere.
Aaron promised himself he wouldn’t think of her again for the rest of the weekend.
They entered the casino and dodged through tourists and gamblers until they stood in front of the reception desk, where a pretty, young hotel clerk waved them over. Jeremiah leaned in, whispering frantically before they got within earshot of her, “You already got a girl. This one’s mine.”
Aaron had absolutely no problem with that. Jeremiah was usually the one going for strange women he had zero chance with, not Aaron. Once in a day was enough for him.
Jeremiah rested his arms on the counter, taking up all the space available, leaving Aaron standing behind him, glad to have a good view of what he was sure would be quite the interaction. Jeremiah leaned in slightly toward the clerk, and Aaron could tell he was trying to read her name tag. “Hi, Lucy. How are you on this beautiful evening?”
The woman gave him a polite smile. “Fine, sir. What name is the reservation under?”
“Aaron Weathers,” Aaron called over Jeremiah’s shoulder.
As usual, he’d reserved both his and Jeremiah’s rooms, since his friend hated the idea of paying for a luxury suite and had tried a few times to get them some basic rooms to cut down on costs. Aaron’s ranch was working smoothly, his inheritance was well invested and dropping a couple grand on some hotel rooms was worth it if it could give them an amazing weekend.
As the woman typed in the information, Jeremiah tilted his head toward Aaron. “That’s my friend. I’m Jeremiah. We’re here for the rodeo. Have you ever been to the rodeo?”
“No, sir, I haven’t. Mr. Weathers, we have you two down for a suite, is that correct?”
Jeremiah jumped in quickly. “Suites, with an S. Two separate suites. We won’t be staying together.”
Aaron stepped up and slapped his friend on the back. “I think she gets it, Jeremiah,” he said as he handed the woman his ID and credit card.
As they left the counter with the key cards, Aaron studied the indomitable Jeremiah. He seemed just as happy as ever, despite being completely dismissed by the pretty clerk. Aaron wondered for the first time if Jeremiah purposely flirted with women he couldn’t possibly get.
It was an interesting thought, but he dismissed it. Jeremiah was just so unstoppably optimistic that he had to assume every girl wanted him, despite whatever evidence he was faced with.
They maneuvered through the casino to the elevators and made their way to the top floor. The suite was as spectacular as Aaron remembered, with a private bar area and separate rooms. The Las Vegas Strip shimmered from the huge windows. Jeremiah turned to him. “Okay, so we have about two hours before we need to leave for dinner. The girls are going to meet us there. Quick nap, and then we meet up? If things go according to plan, it’s going to be a long night.” Jeremiah seemed giddy at the prospect.
Aaron nodded, but couldn’t summon his usual enthusiasm, even with Jeremiah practically dancing with excitement. By the time he was in his room, he was so frustrated at his inability to focus his mind away from his airport mystery woman that he simply gave up; he fell asleep imagining her walking up to him, sliding her arm around his neck and pulling him in for a long, deep kiss.
* * *
JESSICA LEANED BACK in the limo as it slowly wound through the city. She had assumed they would be heading to the hotel and crashing for the night—after all, it was nearly ten and they’d just gotten off a long flight—but apparently she’d been wrong. They were stopping at the Palazzo, one of the glitzy casinos on the Strip, just long enough to drop off their bags and change, which for the rest of the girls seemed to mean slipping into shorter skirts and higher heels and throwing on some more makeup.
Jessica opened her small bag and looked at her two dresses folded next to her jeans and T-shirts. The jeans looked so comfortable, but she could just imagine Cindy’s reaction if she even tried to put them on and grabbed a dress instead. It was a purple lacy thing that went to her knees—she had purchased it for a cousin’s summer wedding the year before. It wasn’t as comfortable as her jeans but was as close as a dress could get.
As she held it up to see how wrinkled it was, Cindy spoke up behind her. “No. Jessica, you are not wearing your purple ‘wedding guest’ dress. It’s not a clubbing dress!”
“I don’t have clubbing dresses. You know that,” Jessica reminded her friend, hoping Cindy would accept it and let her slip it on.
Cindy gave her a triumphant smile, and Jessica waited for whatever disaster it foreshadowed. Cindy said, “It just so happens that I was very aware of that and took the liberty to pack a few dresses for you. And shoes that match so you don’t try to wear those boots or whatever ridiculous shoes you brought.”
Jessica almost said something about the difference in what she and Cindy considered to be ridiculous footwear, but she kept her mouth shut. It was her friend’s weekend—she could suffer through a few uncomfortable nights. She shrugged. “Whatever you say, boss. It’s your weekend.”
Cindy’s grin widened. “I was really hoping you would say that. Ladies, Jessica needs help with her hair and makeup. Hurry! We have dinner reservations.”
In less than a minute, Jessica found herself sitting on the edge of the hotel room’s bathtub, her eyes closed, with Cindy and Alexis or whoever tugging at her hair, the one who was either Marilyn or Arely brushing eye shadow across her eyelids, and somebody else scraping at her lips with a lipstick pencil thing.
“This color is perfect on you,” one of them said. Jessica couldn’t move her mouth to respond or open her eyes to see who it was.
She had been Cindy’s guinea pig enough times to not move unless she wanted a burn from a curling iron or a stab in the eye, so she just stayed still until they moved away, satisfied.
“You look so pretty!” Cindy exclaimed. “And don’t you dare tuck your hair behind your ears.”
Jessica glanced in the mirror. Actually she did look pretty good. Her hair curled over her shoulders in a way it never did for her, and her eyes looked big and greener than usual.
“We need to get going,” Cindy called out to the women as they rushed around making last-minute adjustments to themselves.
Jessica had just realized she was still wearing her button-down shirt and yoga pants from the flight when a small red bundle of fabric hit her arm. She looked to see who had thrown it.
Cindy smiled at her. “Put it on and don’t complain. We have to go!”
The moment she unrolled the dress, Jessica could see why Cindy had waited until the last minute to give it to her. “Cindy, this is going to be way too short on me. I can’t wear this.”
Cindy didn’t even turn around. “Don’t care. You said I’m the boss. It’ll be fun!”
Jessica bit back her grumbling and slid into the dress. Her legs stuck out of it like flagpoles, and if she pulled it down another inch, the top would reveal enough to get her arrested for public indecency. What was Cindy thinking?
But there was nothing to be done. She slipped into the four-inch heels that Cindy had set beside her, a pair Cindy had tried to get her to borrow at least a dozen times and had now finally succeeded in foisting upon her, and left the hotel room without looking in the mirror. She didn’t want to know how awkward and gangly she looked.
She felt as if she was towering over everyone else, but there was nothing she could do about it. They were already on their way, off for dinner and clubs and who knew what else?
Before walking out the door, though, she rushed back to her pants and pulled a slip of paper out of the pocket. She folded it carefully and slid it into the tiny purse Cindy had lent her. Not that she would call him, of course. It simply felt better to have it with her. Just in case.
Back in the limousine, Jessica felt like leaning her head against the window, but forced herself to sit upright. It had been a long day, and all the excitement left Jessica feeling worn down, her nerves frayed from the constant chatter. And it had hardly begun.
But she was determined to stay optimistic. It could end up being a fun evening if she managed to stay awake past her ten-thirty bedtime. Besides, there was a possibility she could meet Aaron the cowboy again, magically solving her dilemma about whether or not to call him. It wasn’t too far beyond the realm of reason, and even if it was, a girl could dream, couldn’t she?
Jessica would have slapped her own forehead in annoyance if she was sure Cindy wouldn’t yell at her for messing with her makeup.
Jessica watched as Cindy and her friends danced to the loud music thumping through the speakers she had somehow managed to block out—it was some song she’d never heard but they all seemed to know—and they were laughing and shouting unintelligibly at each other.
She smiled at them, glad they were enjoying themselves, but she couldn’t help feeling incredibly out of place. Again.
It would take a lot of liquor to get her even half as comfortable and free as these women were at the moment, despite being stone sober. Why couldn’t she just let loose and dance and giggle like them?
It was as if she were a scientific observer watching a unique species and trying to understand them. She was near the women, but that didn’t make her one of them.
Luckily nobody seemed to notice that she wasn’t bumping along, so she kept that smile plastered on her face and tried to look as though she was enjoying herself.
“We’re here!” Cindy suddenly called out.
Their first stop was Firefly, a Spanish tapas restaurant off Las Vegas Boulevard. Jessica took a deep breath, trying to clear out the crazy idea that she would somehow spot Aaron here.
If she didn’t let that idea go, it was going to spoil her whole weekend. She could either call him or not, but thinking random chance would throw them together was beyond idiotic.
She walked down the steps of the SUV limo carefully, very aware that another near spill like in the airport when this high up would probably end with a trip to the hospital. She wasn’t exactly confident in the heels she was wearing, and was relieved and quite proud of herself when her feet were on asphalt.
Marilyn/Arely—their names were way too similar—followed her out and took a deep breath. “Don’t you love Vegas? This is their December weather!”
Jessica couldn’t agree more. The night air was cool, but not cold enough to cause discomfort despite the thin fabric of her dress, and the air smelled deliciously of spices and seafood. Vegas had a few things going for it, that was for sure. Early December in New York involved biting winds and the musty smell of melting snow mixed in with the garbage. This was much better.
Once all the women successfully climbed out of their outlandish vehicle, they strolled into the restaurant as one mass of femininity. They were seated at a private booth, and several waiters descended on them.
“Hello, ladies,” one began as the other placed pitchers of sangria on the table. “Welcome to Firefly. We will bring out a variety of tapas for you to enjoy once you are settled. Please enjoy your meal and let us know if there is anything we can do to make your evening more pleasant.”
Cindy had told Jessica that the first night’s dinner was all part of whatever package her sorority sisters had picked out for her, but she’d had no idea it would be quite like this. Within minutes, dozens of plates filled with bite-size delicious morsels were spread across the table and her glass was filled with sangria, fruit floating around in it cheerfully. How much had the sorority sisters spent on this? She felt bad for Lacy, the one who had been unable to come and whose place she was currently filling.
These girls all seemed to really love Cindy.
The alcohol was a welcome addition to the evening, and Jessica drank a large glassful to steady herself and throw off her discomfort, and then another to try and help her forget the blue eyes that kept swimming to the front of her consciousness.
By the time they left, she was full and had downed enough sangria to help the next hour or two pass in a blur. She even danced with the other women at some very dark, very loud nightclub. She laughed and shouted with them, just one of the girls. This wasn’t college anymore, where she’d been too tall and awkward, too much of a homebody to let loose like this.
As they made it to their last stop of the evening, however, the alcohol was wearing off and she’d begun to get back to her old self, and her old self was very uncomfortable with the fact that she was walking into a strip club.
She would have fun, though. How bad could it be?
As she was ushered along into the side of the Sapphire Club designated for female clientele, her mind began to recoil at the mostly nude women leading the way to the other section of the club. Not because they were nearly naked—that could’ve been even a bit exciting if her drinks weren’t wearing off. It was because they were not the sexy alluring women she’d expected. Instead they looked like any other bored women stuck at work. With the exception of their clothing, of course.
The men were worse. They were handsome, to an extent, and all had some pretty impressive abs, but as soon as the show began, Jessica knew she was not where she wanted to be. Something about it bothered her, and though she knew it was supposed to be fun to ogle the strippers, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.
After a few minutes, she made a decision. She walked over to Cindy, who was surrounded by giggling friends and dancing men in their underwear. Leaning in to her friend’s ear, Jessica pressed on Cindy’s arm to get her attention. “I’m going outside for some fresh air. It’s okay, I’m having fun,” she continued quickly, seeing that her friend was about to scold. “I just need to take a walk. Enjoy yourself and I’ll see you in a little bit!”
She smiled as she walked away to show Cindy that everything was fine, then turned around and got out of there as quickly as she could.
Outside, the air was fresh and clean. She took deep breaths of it, enjoying the sensation as it ran through her, just cold enough to tickle her lungs. She moved away from the door and began strolling, slightly unsteadily in her too-tall shoes, around the parking lot. She considered taking them off and walking barefoot, but she didn’t want to even imagine what kind of diseases she could catch if she stepped on something.
She was a little disappointed in herself at first, thinking she should have stuck it out and tried to enjoy the show.
When she thought about it, though, she knew it wouldn’t have worked. All the other women seemed to think those men grinding against them was fantastic, but it just wasn’t in her nature. She was only attracted to guys who were intelligent, never wasting time drooling over handsome men she didn’t know.
Well, except for the one.
Jessica pulled the folded paper from her purse, looking again at the blocky writing. She wanted to tell herself that he seemed smart, though she had no idea how she could’ve decided that in the few seconds of their interaction—he’d used a bookmark to give her his number, after all. Not that she had any idea what book it had been, but it seemed thick enough to be important and literary.
It seemed much more likely that she was just as shallow as everyone else and swooned the moment she saw a sexy cowboy. That had to be all it was, which was a relief, in a way, because that would make him easier to forget.
Jessica kept walking, considering for the thousandth time whether or not to call him. Then she had the urge to call her family and check on them, at least as a way to occupy her mind and stop herself from doing something incredibly foolish. But it was past four in the morning in New York, far too late at night to call without a very good reason.
Her mom would kill her if she called that late, but it didn’t stop Jessica from wanting to feel near them. Since her father’s diagnosis a year ago, she had seen her family nearly every day, and even if it was a burden sometimes, the distance now clawed at her nerves.
Not being around for four days, not helping with medicine, driving to the doctor visits and helping her mom and sister seemed an impossibly long time. What if something happened? She hadn’t been away more than two days at a time in the past year, and his six months to live had come and gone. He was still battling away, but she knew what could happen.
When Jessica was asked to take Lacy’s place on the Vegas trip, her father was the one who did most of the convincing. He had squeezed her hand and said, “You need a vacation. Enjoy yourself for a few days just this once.”
And now here she was, wandering through a strip club parking lot in the early hours of the morning. She doubted this was what he’d had in mind.
Jessica finished her circuit of the lot and was beginning another when a small mob of people stumbled out of the entrance, laughing loudly and chattering at the top of their lungs. They had to be absolutely smashed. She glanced at the party to see if any of Cindy’s friends needed to be rescued, but none of them were in the group. There was someone she did recognize, though, and the sight stopped her in her tracks. She couldn’t have been more shocked if someone walked up and slapped her in the face.
It was him. Straight out of her fairy tale and back into the real world, only not like her fairy tale at all. Aaron.
At first she couldn’t believe it, but it was definitely Aaron from the airport. The same man, this time with his muscular arms wrapped around two women who were wearing little more than the strippers, and he was laughing and joking while staring down the too-low top of the girl on his right.
