Page 11 of Gamble (Black Light #38)

ELIJAH

T he fog of smoke hit him as soon as he exited the elevators.

It was just one of the things he despised about coming to Vegas.

Sure, he enjoyed a good cigar as much as the next guy, but after years of twenty-four seven chain smoking guests, the public areas of the Vegas casinos were permeated with stale cigarette stench.

Elijah walked as quickly as the weaving path through the slot machines allowed, heading to find a restaurant to grab some breakfast. A flash of red caught his eye as he was about to turn down a corridor.

Craning his neck, he tried to see if he’d imagined Reagan.

He was about to give up when she came into view again, heading away from him.

It wasn’t really a decision to change direction to follow her. He followed as she headed toward the lobby. Was she going to meet her boyfriend? He couldn’t help but be curious about what kind of man a woman as beautiful as she was attracted to.

But when he arrived at the lobby, he was shocked to find Reagan taking her place at the end of the long line.

The carry-on suitcase she was pulling along beside her was his first clue that she was in line to checkout.

As he watched from a distance, he caught her dabbing at her eyes with a tissue just before she pulled a pair of oversized sunglasses from her bag and shoved them on her face.

His gut clenched with anger as he suspected she was wearing them to cover her tear-filled eyes—those light blue orbs he’d loved looking into the day before.

Elijah may have never met the guy named Tristan Goodrich, but he sure wished he could just long enough so he could punch the asshole in the face for treating such a beautiful creature poorly.

Anger at the faceless boyfriend was an emotion he understood, but as he hesitated, Elijah realized the other emotion he was feeling was nervousness, which was ridiculous.

As Dungeon Master, he ran the hottest BDSM club on the West Coast. He shouldn’t be nervous just to talk to a woman.

Moving closer, he timed his arrival at the weaving line to be alongside Reagan at the bend.

“Good morning. Please tell me you aren’t leaving town.”

Reagan flinched before glancing his way. He couldn’t see her eyes behind the tinted lenses, but it made him happy to see a tiny smile come to her lips as she recognized him.

“I shouldn’t have come in the first place,” she answered, her smile already slipping away.

“Let me guess. Mr. Goodrich didn’t show?” he asked, pretty sure she’d been stood up.

“Oh, he showed up.” She paused, taking note that the line was moving and she would have to move away from Elijah to keep her place. Instead of moving forward, she waved the couple behind her ahead to take her place before turning back to Elijah.

He stayed quiet, letting her choose what she did and didn’t want to share with him.

She spoke again. “He showed up smelling like a women’s cologne salesman, all excited that he’d signed himself up to play poker in some all-day tournament. That was his idea of a romantic weekend—expecting me to just sit and watch him play cards with a bunch of strangers from afar.”

“Definitely not what I’d call romantic, for sure, but do you have to leave?” he asked selfishly, wanting her to stay and spend time with him instead.

“I don’t want to worry about running into him and his friends this weekend. This whole thing is humiliating enough,” she said, her voice quavering with emotion, like she might cry at any moment.

“You have nothing to feel humiliated about. The guy is clearly a clueless asshole. He doesn’t deserve you,” Elijah said, trying to cheer her up. When she didn’t answer, he added, “Did you already book your flight home then?”

“Not yet. I was just going to change flights once I got to the airport,” she answered, glancing around as another couple moved past her in the line.

“Good,” he said as he reached out to grab the handle of her roller board suitcase. “I’m starving, and I was just heading to grab some breakfast. You look like you could use a grande latte and a tall stack of pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” she asked.

“Trust me. There are few problems in this world that pancakes can’t make at least a bit better,” he said with a grin.

The small smile playing at her lips made him so happy as she teased back, “I think you’re confusing pancakes with ice cream.”

Elijah laughed. “We’ll order both! You’ll feel better in no time.”

He could tell she was tempted, yet she looked back at the line, still uncertain, so he upped the stakes by adding, “Come on… tomorrow is my birthday. I can’t think of a better birthday present than being able to share a meal with a beautiful woman like you.

We’ll chat… hopefully laugh… and if after breakfast you still want to fly home, I’ll walk you out to hail you a cab myself. ”

He could tell she was tempted. He stayed patient, giving her time to work out an answer on her own.

“Just breakfast, right?” she asked.

“Just breakfast… to start. If you decide you want to stay longer, that will be up to you,” he promised, and he meant it. As attracted to her as he was, he also knew they were in Vegas and she was a vanilla, which meant this was at best a fun weekend and nothing more.

She never really said yes, but when he unclipped the stanchion so she could escape, she stepped out of line and fell into step alongside him as they headed in the restaurant's direction.

There was a line when they arrived, which made him extra happy he’d called ahead. When he got to the hostess table, he gave his name. “Elijah Keaton, checking in.”

After typing on her iPad, the hostess waved over a runner. “Take Mr. Keaton and his guest to table thirty-two.”

When Reagan stood looking surprised, Elijah lightly touched her elbow to pull her into motion along with him as they followed the server to a table next to the window.

Only after they were seated, Reagan asked, “Are you someone famous or something? You jumped ahead of all of the people waiting.”

His chuckle seemed to put her at ease. He reached across their table for two to take the sunglasses off her face as he answered her.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, as they say.

No, I’m no one famous. Still, everyone is looking at us, but that’s only because you’re so beautiful.

They’re trying to figure out why you came to Vegas with your father. ”

He wasn’t prepared for her to get angry. “You are not old enough to be my father,” she argued.

But he knew better. “Oh, baby, you better believe I am. Hell, I’d bet I’m twice your age.”

“You said it’s your birthday. How old are you turning?” she asked.

She’d been nothing but honest with him, so he was determined to reciprocate. “I hit the big 5-0 tomorrow, and honestly, when I was your age, I wondered if I’d ever make it this long.”

“Fifty isn’t that old,” she asserted, trying to appease him. “And that means you are not twice my age. You’re only twenty years older than me. I’m about to turn thirty.”

Elijah laughed. “Close enough. I was already out of high school when you were born, although trust me, I was definitely not father material back then,” he said with a chuckle.

She joined him with a small laugh that was a rich, lovely sound he would love to hear a lot , even if it was just for one day.

After their server had taken their breakfast order and poured their first cup of coffee, Elijah asked, “So what does Reagan Murphy do for a living?”

“I’m a surgical nurse.”

He whistled. “Beautiful and smart.”

“I don’t know about that. I fell for Tristan’s lies pretty easily.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Relationships can be hard.”

“Sounds like the voice of experience talking.”

“You could say that.”

“So, you aren’t married?” she asked.

“Honey, I wouldn’t be sitting here having breakfast with you if I were in a relationship.”

She looked skeptical. “Not all men think like that.”

“Oh, I’m very aware of that. In fact, in my line of work, I see proof of that every day.”

“Really? What do you do? Are you a private investigator?”

Elijah chuckled. “Oh hell no.” He paused, deciding just how much he felt like sharing with her and surprised when he realized he wanted to tell her anything she wanted to know.

“I had a twenty-five-year career in Hollywood as a stuntman. I loved the job, but I had to retire about six years ago when all the shit I’d done to my body caught up to me. Now I run a club in L.A.”

“Wow, so you are someone famous. How many movies have you been in?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“I may have been in over one-hundred movies, but like I tell the guys coming up in the field, if the fans can tell it’s you instead of the A-list actor you’re filling in for then you’re doing a shitty job.”

“That makes sense, but still… you must have met a lot of famous people in your old career.”

Elijah met more famous people now as the DM of Black Light than he did as a stuntman, but thanks to his NDA, he couldn’t tell her that, so he tried to steer the conversation in another direction.

“True, I’m lucky enough to have a few friends in high places, but my ex-wife still wasn’t impressed enough to stick around. Of course, I traveled a lot back then and was rarely home.”

Her smile slipped at his mention of the demise of his marriage. “Do you have any kids?” she asked.

“Oh no. We got divorced twenty years ago now. She ended up having a pack of rugrats with her new husband though. She seems happy enough.”

“You never remarried?”

She was fishing for more info, and he didn’t see any reason to hide anything.

“Naw. I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but it just never worked out, you know?”

She was quiet, taking another sip of coffee before adding. “I’ve already been married and divorced once too.”

He couldn’t keep the surprise off his face. “No way. Who the hell would divorce you?”