Page 37 of Vegas Daddies (Forbidden Fantasies #17)

GAVIN

I t was silly as hell, but as the guys and I sat in a big, cozy restaurant booth across from a dolled-up Allie Tate, I realized this was maybe the first real date I’d ever been on.

Fucking ridiculous. I was twenty-fucking-eight. I’d slept with dozens of women, flirted with hundreds. Somehow though, I’d skipped the real date part of the equation.

Before Allie, I’d always stuck to the fun, frivolous kinds of relationships.

In part because I worked too hard, too many long hours, to be a reliable boyfriend.

But deeper than that, the idea of all the roses and romance of real dating had never appealed to me.

Call me picky or shallow, but even before my dad died and I lost interest in the fun and fleeting kind of connections too, no one had inspired the poetry-reciting kind of butterfly feelings damn near every artist signed to Ratliff Records sang songs about.

Until Allie.

We’d brought her to the city, LA proper, to give her a taste of our world on this unconventional first date.

My connections and money had gotten us a reservation at a swanky restaurant—something high-class enough to impress her, show her she was special and deserved a luxurious night out, but not the tiny-portion paparazzi traps favored by a lot of the Hollywood elites.

Tonight was a group effort though. Luca had envisioned the after-dinner plans and decided to make it a surprise, even going so far as to arrange babysitting for Daphne by reaching out to Allie’s best friends; Cade had had the idea to send Allie flowers to the diner with our date plans written in the card.

And somehow, even the conversation that flowed between us now felt like a collaboration.

But I liked to think the slinky little dress Allie had picked out, the shimmering makeup that elevated her already-gorgeous features to breathtaking levels, the sky-high heels she’d donned that made her legs look miles long and made me think of her wearing nothing but those shoes with her legs wrapped around my hips… all of that was just for me.

“You guys really know how to spoil a girl,” Allie told us in a low, pleased tone as our server brought the bucket of ice and bottle of champagne we’d ordered.

She laughed at the cork pop, and she made a point to lock eyes with each of us in turn as she took a long, slow drink from the bubbly nectar.

“You deserve it,” Cade’s voice rumbled low. A pause, and he added, “Plus, Gav’s paying.”

Allie laughed. God, I loved the melodic, gleeful sound, how her cheeks turned pink in the low light, and the warmth of it shot right through me. We’d already each had a cocktail, so it was a little bit the liquor, but that buzz was nothing compared to the effect of Allie Tate’s presence.

“It’s really nothing,” I said.

“It’s not nothing,” Allie countered. “I mean, besides the cost. The effort is…nice. Not something I’m used to.”

“We might as well bring out the big guns for our first date,” Luca posed, “since we skipped ahead so many steps before now.”

“Making up for lost time,” I agreed, and Allie smiled at the errant wink I threw her way.

We really went all out, ordering decadent appetizers we all bonded over—“My grandpa would call these ‘more-ish,’” Cade said, “because you want more of them”—and four different entrees, promising to let Allie try each of them.

It was basically pornographic, seeing her enjoy the lush dishes, mimicking sounds she made in bed to express a different kind of sensual pleasure.

I met Cade’s gaze after one particularly visceral moan, silently commiserating with my friend over how hard it was to resist this woman. Public or not.

It was tempting as hell to find an excuse to sneak away and fuck Allie in the bathroom again. But I had bigger plans for this night. We all did.

By the time dessert rolled around, we were all laughing more boisterously, talking over each other with more enthusiasm, thanks in part to the continuous flow of booze.

There was something else though. Something less familiar than alcohol but twice as strong.

For the first time in all my years of ostensibly being “on the market,” at least for people looking for one night, I was enjoying the lead-in.

The part of the night that wasn’t about sex, wasn’t even necessarily leading in that direction.

Was this how dating felt for everyone? Exhilarating, almost magic, rich with possibility and hope and a more rewarding kind of fun than casual hookups?

I didn’t think so. Somehow, I knew this was all a special Allie-induced case.

Fuck, was I falling for her? Was I even capable of that?

Before Allie Tate came back into the picture, I would have said no. And it shouldn’t be in my head now. This was our first date. Butterfly territory.

Without the booze loosening me up, they’d feel more like pterodactyls. Maybe people who felt this kind of shit all the time, people who dated and didn’t just fuck around, were tougher than I thought. A soft kind of tough. Like Allie.

Allied insisted that we all split a dessert.

When we finally settled on something chocolate—a crowd pleaser, since four was certainly a crowd for a date, but I could tell all three of us guys had an unspoken agreement to pick the dessert Allie wanted most. This night was about her.

About giving her the treat she deserved.

“Alright, one chocolate ganache cake for the lady,” our server said, “Anything for you three gentlemen?”

“Oh, it’s for all of us,” Allie blurted out, a little tipsy and completely adorable.

She giggled, then her flushed face turned serious.

She looked up at the waitress’s face.” Actually, could you…

make it like an extra big slice? For me and all three of my guys to share,” she explained, and I heard Luca choke as he sipped his drink.

The woman’s face took a second to catch up to her brain, and then she blinked hard and looked around our table, taking each of us in with a new understanding.

“Oh,” she said by accident. “Um, it could cost extra, but?—”

“Not a problem,” I slid in. “Anything for our girl.”

The waitress blinked, blushed, and hurried off to fulfill our request. The second she was out of earshot, Allie burst into contagious laughter, making all of us lose it.

“You’d think she’d have seen polyamory before, considering she works in LA,” I quipped, and Allie snorted, covering her mouth after, as if it wasn’t the cutest fucking thing.

“Most people are probably a little less shameless about it,” Luca guessed between his own soft laughs.

And there was the awareness with all of us too, that we weren’t quite committed to this kind of unconventional relationship long-term.

It was a miracle that we were cool enough about it to be joking together now.

We were still fighting small bursts of giggles, fueled by champagne and the intoxication of Allie Tate’s company, when our chocolate explosion of a dessert made its way to our table. Allie’s eyes got big, and she excitedly distributed forks to each of us, taking the first bite for herself.

It was sweeter than chocolate, sharing the joy of the dessert with her.

Allie ate the cake with a nearly lust-blown expression, alternating between dizzy smiles and moans that made my pants feel too tight, my skin too warm for the cool restaurant AC.

When Cade, Luca, and I conceded the last bite of the gooey cake to her, she smiled like she was seeing the sun for the first time after a long winter.

It was how I felt in her presence, and I was struck all at once with an urge to keep her smiling like that as long as I could. Every day. Forever.

I shoved back the frightening thought by looking forward.

This night wasn’t over just because we’d finished dinner and dessert and I’d taken care of the bill, including giving our server a generous tip to make up for how we’d scandalized her.

It was when a sleek black vehicle slid up in front of us outside of the restaurant.

Allie looked at me, correctly guessing that the swanky ride was my doing. She raised an eyebrow.

“Where are we going now?”

“You didn’t think the night was over, did you?” I asked her, my lips settled into a crooked half smile, and my two best friends mirrored my expression as Cade helped Allie into the car. I nodded to the driver, who already had the destination programmed into his GPS.

“This is so…secret agent-y,” Allie laughed, and that gave us guys plenty of fodder for making fun of her in that flirtatious way she loved.

Our next stop was a surprise courtesy of Luca.

We spent the ride over to our next destination playfully fighting off Allie’s attempts to guess where we were headed, but when we pulled up to the kitschy bar with a big neon microphone attached to an all-caps KARAOKE sign, Allie squealed. The secret was out.

“No way you guys brought me to a karaoke bar,” Allie laughed, looking to each of us with stars in her blue eyes.

“Guilty,” Luca said, a little apprehensive. “But you don’t have to sing if you don’t want to. I just…thought you’d?—”

“I love it,” she said, and she was dragging us bodily into the establishment.

Allie was so excited about every part of the bar, from the cute twinkle-lights on the slightly elevated karaoke stage to the place’s signature cocktails named for classic karaoke songs.

It was busy tonight, but not so packed that Allie thought it’d be a waste to even try and sign up to sing.

So she promptly got on the list and spent the half hour or so before her turn trying to convince the three of us to sing something with her.

“I’m completely tone-deaf,” Cade said, shaking his head. “I’ll just enjoy your performance and hold your drink while you’re up there being a star.”