She gave the bracelet a snap.
The matter at hand was putting up a good front for Wes. She’d planned to talk to him about what had led her to Vegas, but if Johnson had followed her hoping she’d lead him to Valerie and/or Randolph’s former hiding place, whoever had sent him would probably send a replacement. She couldn’t count on Wes to be smart under pressure.
And she couldn’t count on Jack not to give her up.
And she couldn’t count on Peter not to make her go home.
Damn. In hindsight, she would’ve been better off to come to Vegas alone…or to bring Hannah.
Then she chided herself—this was supposed to be a chance for her and Peter to have a fresh start. Okay, so the quick marriage proposal had caught her off guard, but it almost felt as if there was no middle ground for her and Peter. Dating on and off had gotten them nowhere, and she suspected Peter needed proof of her forgiveness before he could get back to a confident place, sexually speaking.
Then she sighed—not that they’d gotten there yet. Between the incident, then answering questions from the police, then being moved to another room and the time difference, they’d both been comatose by the time they crawled into bed.
Although Jack wouldn’t have let—snap!
Carlotta winced, then wrapped her hair in a towel, turban-style, and pulled on a spa robe. She opened the door and stepped into the hallway, walking toward her dressing room. When she heard voices, though, she decided to give Wes a hug before getting dressed.
She had padded into the main room several feet before she realized it wasn’t Wes who’d arrived—it was Jack…and Coop. She hadn’t expected Coop to come, too, but it made sense Jack would bring someone to examine the body whom he could trust. Carlotta stopped, and they all looked her way.
There they were, the three men in her life. Carlotta flashed back to playing the Mystery Date board game with girlfriends as a pre-teen, opening the little plastic door to different types of men. Peter was dressed in crisp chinos, golf shirt, and loafers. Jack wore jeans, leather jacket, and boots. Coop wore cargo pants, a pullover, and sneakers. All handsome and sexy, each in his own way.
“Look, Carly—Officer Terry and Mr. Craft came all the way out here to investigate your stalker.” Peter seemed less than pleased.
“Detective,” Jack corrected sourly.
“Doctor,” Coop amended good-naturedly.
“You didn’t mention you’d called the detective,” Peter said lightly.
“I’m sure I did,” Carlotta lied.
“Maybe,” Peter conceded. “It was rather late by the time we went to bed. Together.”
That was subtle. “Hi, Jack…Coop.”
“Hi,” they chorused.
When she realized they were staring, she remembered what she was wearing. The awkward intimacy of the other men being in a room she was sharing with Peter seemed tangible. A flush warmed her face as she pulled the robe tighter. “Sorry—I thought you were Wes. Give me a few minutes to get dressed.”
Carlotta fled to her room-sized closet and hastily pulled on a casual jersey sheath. She combed out her long hair and wound it, still wet, into a low knot at the nape of her neck. For makeup, she only took time to apply lip gloss and mascara. After grabbing a cross-body bag and her phone, she pushed her feet into sandals and hurried back to the men, primarily because she was worried what they’d talk about in her absence.
“So,” Jack said when she walked up, lifting a glass of dark liquid in her direction, “you and Peter are engaged.”
Her smile froze.
“Congratulations,” Coop offered congenially. The liquid in his glass was clear—probably club soda in deference to his recovery.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “I see Peter shared our good news.”
“I did,” Peter said, beaming.
“Can I have some of whatever that is,” she asked, gesturing to Jack’s glass.
“Of course,” Peter said, pouring her a drink from a decanter. “It’s aged bourbon,” he said when he handed it to her. “So you might want to sip it.”
Carlotta tossed back a generous mouthful, taking perverse pleasure in the burn down her throat and into her empty stomach. “How was your trip out?”
“Good,” Jack said.
“Uneventful,” Coop added. “Unlike your trip so far.”
She took another drink. “What all did Peter tell you? About the dead man, I mean.”
“That you came back to your room after he proposed,” Jack said, with the merest lift of an eyebrow.
“And when you opened the safe to put your ring inside,” Coop continued, “the body fell out.”