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“Most of my dates are just a pleasant chat over drinks. Not a big deal, but then somehow the ones I like, they ghost me. I never heard from or see them again. I think I’m too much for the average man. Too driven in my career. Too passionate about what I do. I used to think it was a me-problem, but now I realize it’s their problem. I am who I am and I like me.”
“To be very clear, I’m not your average guy. And your passion? Bring it on. I’m way too impressed with you to be put off by it. You know how highly I regard you, right?”
Her smile flatlined. “The world needs more men like you, Keaton. No wonder all the women from the show want you. Why couldn’t we have met before?”
“Because we’re meeting now. Things happen for a reason.” This was it. Time to lay my cards on the table, right here in Vegas, at a cheap corner diner. So romantic. “Soph, these past several weeks, if you can’t tell, I’ve gotten really into you. Yes, this weekend started out as a favor to me, you pretending to be my date. But somewhere along the way, I think I started falling for you.”
I caught the fear in her eyes as, once again, the server had the worst timing in the world. “Here’s your bill. Pay up at the register. Have a good night, folks.”
“I’ll pay. It’s getting late. We should go.” Sophie grabbed it and jumped out of the booth, rushing to the front. Faster on my feet, I reached her side and plucked the bill from her hand.
“I’ll be paying.” I already had a twenty in my hand and handed it over to the server. “Keep the change. There, Soph. Now you can say I’m at least better than fifty percent of the dates you’ve been on because I had cash.”
Her bottom lip trembled as if about to cry when she stepped outside and I followed, worried, right as thunder rumbled. Rain poured down, and we huddled under the awning of the diner, waiting for our car to return.
Drops still hit us. I had my jacket on my arm, so I draped it over our heads to keep us dry, bringing us closer. She couldn’t run from me now.
I leaned in and called her out. “Must be so scary. You finally find a decent man like me and you don’t know what to do, being treated so well.”
“You’re right. It scares the hell out of me.”
“Then you know what we do?” I cupped her chin, tilting it up to meet mine. “We take it one day at a time together. See where this leads.” My lips landed on hers in a sweet and sensual kiss, careful not to push too hard. But now that I almost have her, I couldn’t lose her.
“Maisy would call it fucking around and finding out,” she purred.
“We can do that, too. I’m all for a little fucking around. So is that a yes? We can make this thing between us real?”
She searched my eyes as if riding a fence, unsure which side to land on.
“Don’t overthink it, Soph. Just go with it.”
“Yes, Keaton,” she whispered on my lips, the answer I wanted.
I deepened the kiss, slipping my hand behind her neck possessively, anchoring her to me beneath the shelter of my jacket. Rain? What rain? I only focused on the heat of her mouth, the cinnamon swirl on her tongue, and the way her body melded to mine.
This wasn’t pretend. Not even close.
Her hands ran up my shirt, balling at my collar. She clung to me like she had to in order to believe in how real this was.
When we finally broke apart, her cheeks flushed, her lashes dampened from the rain, and her mouth kiss-swollen—the most beautiful woman in the world to me, inside and out. I’d do just about anything for her.
“How do you feel now?” I asked.
“Terrified,” she breathed and chuckled. “But I’m here with you. Right where I want to be.”
“Good girl. Now let’s get back to the hotel. Quickly,” I growled, anticipating giving her a night that no other man in the past five years could do.
16
LUCKY STREAK
KEATON
The casino floorbuzzed with noise and light as we passed through—neon slot machines chiming, chips clinking, people yelling at blackjack tables like they’d just won the lottery. But none of it compared to the way Sophie kept smiling at me.
We paused by a cluster of cast members and talked about the situation. We were all waiting to learn if tomorrow’s wedding was still on. Their voices were anxious: no word from the bride or groom, no sign of Starla, and not a single instruction from Melanie.
All oddly quiet.