He was waiting on me. No guy had ever done that before. I normally had someone wait on us, or I waited on them.
“Please, thank you.”
He didn’t respond but went to make my drink, exactly the way I liked it, with three ice cubes. He paid attention to details. Again, not something I had experienced before.
Just as I expected, he picked up three slices of the buffalo chicken and put them on a plate before joining me on the sofa. “If you’d like to turn the TV on, we can, but I don’t usually watch TV. I prefer conversation or quiet.”
I was good with whatever he wanted. “Conversation is fine,” I replied, and took a bite of my pizza.
We began to eat in silence. I wanted to watch him eat and see if his jaw worked in that sexy way it did when he was angry. But I restrained myself and didn’t stare at him. He was relaxed, and I liked that he felt at ease with me.
When I finished my slice, I really wanted another, but I hated to eat one more piece in front of him. Besides, it would go to my hips. I wasn’t sure I’d get a chance to go to the hotel gym in the morning and work it off.
“You need more?” he asked, setting his plate down and standing up as he reached for mine.
Did this man read minds? “One more slice would be good,” I replied.
He took my plate and walked back to the pizza. He picked up another large slice and brought it back to me. I wanted to admire the way he looked in those jeans, but this was such a friendly and comfortable meal, and I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to be acting like he hadn’t given me two of the best orgasms of my life or what. He was so confusing.
And he was also slightly perfect.
“You keep looking at me like that, and you won’t get to eat that pizza,” Gannon said, with a fierce glance in my direction that made my female parts tingle. I quickly took a bite of my food, and he chuckled before looking back at the book he had put down.
A smile tugged up the corners of my lips as I chewed. It was a happy smile. I didn’t have many of those. That idea made me sad.
Had I ever had a relationship with a guy who actually made me happy? I couldn’t think of one. Even the one I had with Major hurt more than anything else. This was a guy I’d met in Vegas and might never see again. He could be married or engaged. And he was making me happy.
“You’re thinking deep thoughts.” He didn’t miss anything. Not one change in my expression.
“Are you married?” I asked, needing to know.
He grinned. “No.”
“Engaged?” I continued.
“No.”
“Wanted for a felony?”
This time, he chuckled. “For future reference, it’s a little too late to question a guy if he is wanted for a felony when you have him in your suite and trust him enough to stay there while you sleep.”
Good point. I nodded and took another bite of pizza.
“That all you wondering?” he asked.
I finished chewing, then took a sip of my drink. “What do you do for work?”
He thought about that for a moment and then replied, “Construction.”
Construction? How was he in Vegas for business if he was a construction worker? And how could he afford the Bellagio? “Really?”
“Really. I own a construction company that builds casinos.”
Well, that made a lot more sense. “Is that your book? It looks like it’s been read a lot,” I said.
He glanced over at the book, and a smile touched his lips. “I’ve had it more than twenty years. It’s my favorite. I’ve read it thirty-five times.”
Wow. The layers on this man just got deeper and deeper.
Major
My Texas charm wasn’t totally lost on the Bellagio receptionist. She gave me the name of the tower Nan was staying in, but she wouldn’t give me a room number. That was all she would do for me. At least I knew Nan was here.
Which meant I’d been sitting at the bar beside the elevator bank, drinking and watching for any sign of her. Cope had probably already spotted me and was making sure she didn’t come this way. Either that, or he was playing games with my head.
The waitress with the tiny halter top and the paid-for tits that I’d like to get my hands on kept flashing me a flirty smile. As tempting as that was, I didn’t have time for that. Girls like her were why I was in this fucking mess in the first place.
Focusing on one girl, especially one as shallow as Nan, was hard to do. I liked variety, but I sure as hell didn’t like the idea of Nan having variety, so what did that mean? That I was being a bastard? Yeah, that’s what it meant. I was calling her shallow, but I was pretty damn shallow myself.
The waitress walked over to me and slid a new napkin my way. This one had writing on it. I saw a phone number and a name. She was making it pretty easy for me to fuck her. How was I supposed to work with shit like this? Jesus, if I was like Cope, I wouldn’t have this problem.