Page 33 of Catch Me (Townsend Legacy #4)

A ndreas

“This view is amazing,” Ivy gushes as she stands in front of our floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the strip, more than a hundred floors above ground level.

While she watches the scene below us, I watch her in the long, fluffy white robe provided by the hotel. We’ve just gotten out of the shower, and although I’ve had her once this morning, that doesn’t stop my body from reacting to what’s underneath the robe.

She turns to me excitedly. “Lillian said she’s going to do a day trip to the Grand Canyon tomorrow. I’ve never seen the Grand Canyon.”

“We can go tomorrow if you want.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I think tickets are sold out for the tour Lillian ’s doing.”

I pull out my phone and dial my assistant’s number.

“I need two tickets for a Grand Canyon tour from Vegas for tomorrow. … Hang on.” I move the phone from my ear to ask Ivy, “Do you prefer early morning or late morning tickets?”

She hesitates for a beat before answering, “Late morning.”

“Good choice.”

We’ll be out late tonight since it’s the party with everyone from the cast. By the time we arrived last night it was close to two in the morning. Though we did still go out and party a little, tonight is the real thing.

“I’ll text them to you when they’re available, Mr. Knight,” my assistant says.

“That’s taken care of,” I tell Ivy, tossing my phone on the other side of the bed. “Now, come here.”

Ivy moves to stand in between my spread legs as I sit on the corner of the bed. I watch her as her eyes roam around the room.

“Are you sure that it’s okay we’re staying in this enormous room? Did Michael really book suites for the entire cast?”

No, Michael in fact did not book the presidential suite for anyone. The studio wouldn’t have paid for this room. Most of the crew that came is either on lower floors or at different hotels altogether.

I personally had my room upgraded on my own dime because there was no way in hell I was letting Ivy have her own room.

I’ve gotten way too used to having her in my bed every night to let that shit happen.

“The room’s taken care of,” is all I tell her before pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Is there anything in particular you’re looking forward to doing here?”

“You just booked a Grand Canyon tour for us. And there’s the party tonight. Isn’t that enough?”

“Not if there’s something else you want to do, it isn’t.”

“Oh, and how could I forget about the Formula 1?”

I grin. “There’s that, too.”

“Sounds like a pretty packed weekend to me, in that case. I’m the ‘let’s take it easy’ type when it comes to vacations and getaways.”

“Noted,” I say, storing that information away for future reference. “How about we eat breakfast and then head out? There are some people I want you to meet at the Formula 1 events.”

Today’s Saturday so there’s a qualifying race that we may get to see this afternoon, in addition to meeting my cousins afterward, before the actual Grand Prix tomorrow afternoon.

Ivy gives me a contemplative look that’s so damn cute, I rise to my feet, cup her face, and bring her lips to mine.

“I suggest you get dressed, baby, before I forget all about any plans and we end up naked in this bed for the rest of the weekend.”

Ivy laughs and then pushes me away from her when my hands start to wander underneath the robe.

“I’m not going to spend this trip to Vegas in bed.”

“I can make it worth your while,” I yell through the closet door she’s closed behind her.

I hear her laugh through the door but force myself to remain on the outside. If I go in there while she’s changing, there’s no chance in hell that I’m letting her out for the next few hours.

“Wow! They’re going around those corners at what speeds did you say?” Ivy asks as we sit on one of the overlook points of where the Las Vegas Formula 1 Grand Prix will take place.

The qualifying race ended a few hours ago, but the who’s who are out and about mixing and mingling as is often the case when it comes to a Formula 1 race.

The entire cast of Late Nights is as well.

“Andreas, thanks for getting us in here,” one of the other actors from the film says. “Do you think Michael knows it wasn’t his pull that got us these last-minute tickets?”

I glance over at the director who’s in the corner whispering in the ear of one of the waitresses.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” I tell him.

He chuckles. “Tell your cousin thanks,” he says before squeezing my shoulder.

“Did he say your cousin?”

I turn back to Ivy, who’s watching me with curiosity.

“Have you ever watched a Formula 1 race?”

“Not a single day in my life,” she admits. “I’ve barely heard of it, to be honest.” She glances around. “Seems like I’m out of the loop.”

“Well …” My words peter off as the low murmurs turn into excited squeals and even cheers.

“Oh my God, it’s Travis Townsend!” someone exclaims.

I stand, bringing Ivy with me, keeping her hand tucked in mine. Immediately, my cousin makes eye contact with me. He grins and then saunters in our direction. Though he acknowledges the other people in the room, calling his name, he doesn’t stop for them.

“It’s about time you showed up to one of my races,” he says before pulling me into a hug.

Travis is one of my Uncle Tyler and Aunt Destiny’s triplets, and one of the fastest drivers in Formula 1 and has been for the past three years.

When Travis pulls back, his gaze wanders to my right. Instantly an interest sparks in his eyes as he takes Ivy in.

“And this is?”

“Ivy Sterling,” she says.

I release her hand but place my arm around her waist, pulling her into me.

“She’s taken,” I declare, my voice serious.

Travis raises both eyebrows, that fucking smirk on his face growing wide. “Once you see my performance tomorrow, that might change.” He winks at her. “I always get lucky in Vegas.”

“Be careful,” I say in a low tone.

“Sure, he has Hollywood good looks, but can my cousin drive over two hundred miles an hour without flinching?” he asks, like that’s a fucking reason to date him.

“I will wipe that grin off your face,” I warn.

“Cousins?” Ivy finally asks.

“He didn’t tell you? Must be jealousy,” Travis says. “I mean, I’d be jealous of me too if I were him.”

I roll my eyes at his bullshit.

“He’s my younger and much less accomplished cousin, Travis. Our dads are brothers, but I’m pretty sure they found this one in a back alley.”

“That’s what I used to tell him when we were kids, too,” Annalise, Travis’ sister and assistant, says, coming up beside him.

“My sister who loves me so much she decided to come and work for me.” Travis grins at his sister who also happens to be his triplet.

“There’s no way you two could deny you’re related,” Ivy interjects.

Travis chuckles. “That’s what I’ve been telling her for years. I think she stole some of my good looks in the womb.”

He goes to pinch Annalise’s cheeks, but she swats his hand away and glares at him.

“Yeah, even with the red hair and freckles, the family resemblance is uncanny,” I say to Annalise. “Sorry, little cousin.”

“I got your little,” Lis says with another glare, this time directed at me. Annalise can be a little on the prickly side and she’s not a fan of too much physical affection.

“For some reason my cousins don’t like to be reminded they’ve been on this planet for a shorter period of time than I have. Thus, making me much, much wiser.” I place a hand to my chest as I look over at Ivy, grinning.

She rolls her eyes, then turns to Annalise.

“I don’t have much experience with older cousins, but as the youngest of three, I know how annoying it can be to be reminded you’re the youngest.”

Annalise gives her a sly grin. “You get it. At least this one doesn’t try that mess.” She gestures toward Travis.

“No, that’s Professor Tristan with that bullshit,” Travis says of his and Annalise’s triplet.

“Is he here today?” I glance around the room as if I could’ve missed my six-foot-three cousin.

“Of course not. You know he doesn’t like crowds.” Annalise shakes her head. “I have no idea how he’s going to be a professor.” She snorts, reminding me of Uncle Tyler, from whom she inherited her auburn hair and freckles.

Travis chuckles. “Out of the three of us, I’m definitely the friendliest.” Travis winks at Ivy, and a growling sound starts from somewhere. It’s not until three pairs of eyes land on me that I realize who the sound is coming from.

“Keep that bullshit to yourself.”

“Hm, my usually jovial, charming, yet old cousin has found a reason to let his claws out,” Travis says, that fucking grin on his face growing.

“Fuck you.”

Travis laughs.

“Did you guys catch our qualifying race?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer. “Per usual, I came out in the top three. Which means I’ll start at the beginning of the pack,” Travis informs us.

“I could’ve snuck you guys onto the track for a private showing if you’d contacted me earlier.”

“That would’ve been fun,” Ivy says, surprising me.

“You would’ve wanted to see that?” I ask.

She looks at me with a glint in her eyes. “Hell yes. I mean, no offense,” she turns to Travis and says. “I didn’t think car racing would be that enjoyable to watch, but the energy here is electrifying.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Travis retorts. “Just wait until tomorrow.”

“Though I don’t know all of the drivers, I already have an idea of who I’d put my money on.”

Travis gives her a genuine smile. “For that, I’ll forgive you for calling it car racing.”

Ivy laughs.

I open my mouth to wish my cousin good luck tonight, but voices around the room raise as two more people enter the room.

The second guy is none other than Brazilian-English F1 driver, Max Ferreira.

“Here we fucking go,” Annalise says loud enough for all of us to hear.

Max plays up the crowd surrounding him—waving, smiling, and shaking hands—until he makes eye contact with Travis. My cousin instantly narrows his eyes. While a smile continues to play out on his face, it’s lost the joking luster it once held.

“I need a drink,” Annalise says before swiping a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.

“Not too much on that,” Travis warns, his voice serious.

“Last time I checked, you aren’t my father,” she bites back. “It's half a glass, calm down.” Her eyes move over to where Max is standing. “And if you want me to keep my claws in check, you’ll lay off.”

Before Travis can respond, Max approaches our group.

“Travis,” he greets, with a smile a mile wide. “You remember my manager, Carl, right?” He introduces the man by his side.

“You mean the same Carl that tried to recruit me just six months ago?” Travis nods. “How could I forget?”

“Annalise,” Max says, going out of his way to address my cousin, who’s obviously ignoring him.

In fact, Annalise gives nothing more than a grunt in acknowledgement before telling Travis, “There’s Randy. I need to speak with him about that issue we discussed. I’ll see you later, cousin. You too, Ivy. Nice meeting you.”

She walks away without a backwards glance. Yet, when I look over at Max, his gaze is pinned on her back.

Within a beat, Travis moves in front of him, blocking off sight of his sister. “Did you need something, Max?”

Max sends him a hundred wattage smile. “I wanted to wish you luck, of course. May the best driver win.” He holds out his hand.

“It’s Vegas,” Travis says, taking a step back and widening his arms. “I own this city.”

Travis’ cockiness doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Out of the past four seasons in Vegas, he’s finished three of those races with podium positions, two of those winning the top spot.

Max chuckles before dropping his hand and walking away toward a group of people waving him over on the other side of the room.

“That was intense,” I say with a lifted eyebrow.

Travis smirks. “A little friendly rivalry. I have to go, but maybe we can connect sometime before you guys leave. Nice meeting you, Ivy,” he says in a much less flirtatious tone.

“You too,” Ivy replies. “You probably don’t need it, but good luck tonight. I’ll be rooting for you.”

“We both will.” I hold out my free hand.

Travis clasps it.

“Stay safe.”

“Always,” he lies. Travis is one of the fastest drivers in the damn world. He’s also one of the riskiest in his sport.

“Did you feel that chill?” Ivy asks once it’s just the two of us.

“There’s years’ long tension between those two,” I tell her.

“You mean three.” Her gaze travels over to Annalise.

“Yeah, I think she hates Max more than Travis. And Travis is the one Max tried to kill.”

Ivy’s eyes widen.

I’m so damn tempted to lean in and kiss the shock right off her damn face, or at least until I hear her moan my name.

“What?”

I shake my head. “It’s a long story.”

I take her hand into mine and am satisfied when she doesn’t pull it away.

“How about we go check out a few other spots before dinner?”