Somewhere near the middle of her first glass of champagne, Chance had read all the signals and had a pretty good idea where the night would be going.

The way she crossed and uncrossed her legs, letting that hem slide up just a little further each time. The glacial, but very evident, way her body inched closer to his. The gleam in her eyes that outshone even the champagne-induced glaze. She had a million different tells, all pointing in one direction.

Chance took her arm as she slid off her stool. It was less him being a gentleman than simply wanting to feel that smooth skin underneath his calloused fingers. That subtle bit of feminine touch did more to get his blood flowing than even the thought of pure sex.

She reached around with her other hand to place it on his bicep, moving in close to him as they headed out of the lounge.

“So, your place or mine?” she asked, with that husky hint to her teasing voice.

“How’s about we stay right here?”

The sobriety came rushing back in her face with sharp clarity. “Here?”

“No, planet Mars,” he teased. “‘Course here. You deserve the best.”

That softened her sharp look a bit, but she was still wary. “But it’s so—”

“Perfect,” he finished for her.

“Oh Chance, I don’t—”

“Then don’t. Just let me.”

He led her toward the front desk, before she could argue any further. It was completely stupid, considering his financial circumstances.

As the bright-eyed woman behind the counter greeted them, he turned and took one look at those straight, brown shoulders bared by the straps of her white dress and Chance knew Juliet was absolutely worth it.

* * *

There was a definite unsteadiness to her step and a happy but glazed look in her eyes as they made their way to the elevators. She even threw in a damn hiccup like something out of a cartoon, just for good measure.

Chance wasn’t above admitting that he had been more than happy to entertain a woman or two whose morals had been loosened up by one too many cosmos or Budweisers.

Somehow he felt Juliet deserved better than that. All the same, he couldn’t very well let her go right now. She was obviously in no condition to drive.

Chance found the whole thing absurdly amusing. When had he become such a damn white knight?

Never mind that he had absolutely no desire to let her get away from him anytime soon.

Never mind that he kind of enjoyed the idea of wondering what Juliet looked like when she slept.

Never mind that there was always hope for the next morning before checkout….

Maybe he could even order room service and soak up some of that bubbly.

When the doors opened he led her in.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said with a lazy smile. She looked at him with such a seductive stare that he momentarily thought about kicking every chivalrous tendency to the curb and taking her right there in the damn elevator.

Then the doors closed behind them, and he found he didn’t have to worry about being such a gentleman after all. It seemed to wake something up in her and she leaned into him, pressing her hands up against his chest.

Chance read blatant signs all over her face. It reminded him of that scene in Gone With The Wind, a movie his mother had watched ad nauseam, much to the complaint of her two sons. It was the part where Rhett claimed Scarlett needed to be kissed and kissed often. Despite Scarlett’s protests, she had immediately closed her eyes, parted her lips and let her head fall back, more than happy to accept Rhett’s advances.

Juliet had no such protests, and Chance was more than happy to offer his own advances. He bent down to kiss those parted lips. She tasted like candy and ice cream with a hint of champagne. It wasn’t the worst flavor in the world, especially tracing those particular lips.

“Mmmm,” she hummed under his mouth, pressing even closer into him.

The doors announced the elevator’s arrival on their floor and Juliet pulled away from him. She stood there looking up at him with that lazy smile before they exited. He held his arm around her waist as they walked at a slightly urgent pace to the room and he stuck the key in the slot.

“Why don’t we order up something to eat?” he offered as he opened the door. Perhaps that would induce enough sobriety in her to make him feel a bit less guilty about where the little brain in his pants wanted the night to go.

She just gave a noncommittal hum as she walked in ahead of him. Before he could close the door she spun around, nearly losing her balance.

“You know, I don’t really sleep with men on the first date. Or first and one-third? one-quarter? I forget what this one is.” She giggled.

Yeah, definitely some room service.

“Well, as much as I would love to break that record, I think you need food in you more than you need…” he stopped, realizing the sleazy finish to that sentence.

Juliet just hiccuped a laugh and finished it for him “…dick in me.” That got another bout of giggles out of her.

Even Chance had to laugh at that one.

She came in closer to him, putting her arms around his waist and looked up at him with that soft smile again.

Then all her signals shifted. A wrinkled brow. A frown overcoming her lips. Her nose scrunching as if she had just got a whiff of something unpleasant. Her eyes went wide.

“Oh my God,” she said, putting a hand to her mouth urgently.

Chance watched her with alert, wary eyes. Juliet immediately let her purse slide down her arm to the floor and ran to the bathroom. She somehow managed to slam the door behind her before, one second later, a series of sounds that could only be one thing ensued.

Chance didn’t need an interpreter to comprehend those hurls and retches. It didn’t bode well for the rest of the night.

Even if he had still been interested in anything happening tonight—and he was man enough to think this didn’t entirely kill the mood for him, not with those shoulders and that smile—he doubted Juliet would even be able to look him in the eye let alone have sex with him after this.

Once the noise of Juliet expelling everything she had eaten and drank today ended she stayed in the bathroom for a while. Chance sensed her hesitation on the other side of that closed door. He could actually picture her staring into the mirror, trying to pump herself back up enough to come back and face him.

When she finally opened the door, he made sure to firmly hide the smile that wanted to come to his face at how crazy this night had gone.

Oh poor, sweet Juliet.

The defeat and humiliation was written all over her: the bottom lip being chewed to death between her teeth; the one arm crossed over her body while the other hand went up to cup the back of her neck; the head bowed in embarrassment; the wrinkled brow that would have prefaced an onslaught of tears if she was still a little girl.

Chance quickly walked over to comfort her. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed before the apology that was written on her lips could be uttered.

“I’m sorry,” she said anyway. “It must have been the ice cream with all that candy and the champagne, then the thought of eating something else.”

He put one firm arm around her and guided her to sit on the bed.

“Really, it’s okay, Juliet,” he said again, adding a chuckle for good measure.

It was hilariously disastrous from his point of view. Even during his hot streaks at poker he’d never spent this much on a woman, certainly not for a first date. Luxury hotel room? Champagne? It was a good thing Juliet’s stomach was probably in no condition for caviar.

Despite that, he wasn’t put out at all. Definitely one of his more memorable dates. Something to tell the grandkids one day.

Before he could bounce that last thought around in his head to figure out where it had come from, she spoke up.

“No, it’s not okay. You spent all that money and….I just…. It was two glasses! For Pete’s sake, I’m a 31-year-old woman!” she cast a quick, panicky glance his way.

Chance just smiled reassuringly. He had four years on her. Her age was irrelevant, and 31 years old was nothing, especially since she wore hers so well.

“I should be well past the days of this. How in the world could—?”

“Like you said, it was probably a combination of the champagne and ice cream. Mostly my fault though. I do have a tendency to make women sick to their stomach when they look at me.”

That got a genuine laugh out of her. Damn how that tiny little rasp in it just tickled his dick. He squeezed her shoulders reassuringly, reminding his cock to ignore how smooth that skin felt under his hand.

“What do you say to this? We’ll skip the room service and we can just lie back against the headboard and talk all night. No sense in wasting this room and that view of Houston.”

She looked up at him, smiling gratefully. She even managed to show a few teeth.

* * *

“My favorite memory?”

“Yeah,” Juliet said.

Chance was against the headboard and Juliet leaned back in to his chest. Everything about it felt comfortable, perhaps because any remaining walls between Juliet and him had been flushed down the toilet along with her dignity. Not the ideal way to go about it, especially from her angle, but here they were.

“Coney Island,” he said without pause. He didn’t even need to think about it.

“I was twelve and my dad had just won another poker game. Not even a really big one, but he was feeling good. When he came back home, all he said was ‘pack your bags Katiebird,’ that’s what he called my mom, ‘we’re headed to New York’.”

Chance chuckled. “It was summer and you certainly didn’t need to tell Chip and me twice. We eagerly packed our bags and road-tripped it up to New York. The four of us were there for a week, doing the tourist thing, Central Park, Empire State Building. The Towers were still up then so we did that as well. But it was a side trip to Coney Island we took that sticks with me.”

He laughed at the memory of it. The scene in his head had a hazy summer glow and smelled like popcorn. He could still feel the salty sea air against his skin and hear the laughter and noise surrounding him.

“My mom grew up around there and she enjoyed it more than any of us. I think that’s why my dad picked it. Anyway, Chip got so sick from cotton candy and all the rides that he eventually…well, I guess you’re familiar with what happened next.” Juliet elbowed him in the ribs making him laugh. “I was young and evil enough to tease him mercilessly about it, until my parents finally took pity on him and told me to quit it.”

“My dad dragged us to one of those pitching booths to go a few rounds. We were all shocked at how good he was. That was the first time I learned he had played baseball in high school. He told us they fill those bottles with sand to make them harder to knock over, so you have to have a strong pitch to make it work, and boy did he.”

“He won one of those big teddy bears. All they had left were the pink ones so he gave it to my mom. She loved that damn bear.” He laughed as he remembered his mother lugging it back to their hotel room, not letting anyone else hold it. “Even with the jewelry and trips he would impulsively buy her, I don’t think she ever loved a gift from him more than that pink bear. She still has it to this day.”

Juliet gave a soft laugh at that.

Chance felt the smile fall from his face as the memory continued. “We were on the boardwalk and had some guy take our photo, complete with that damn bear. It was my dad’s favorite and he kept it in his wallet. I think it must have been one of his favorite memories too, though according to him it was because of the way my mom looked in her shorts. He was always telling us he had fallen for her because,” he grew heavy on the East Texas drawl to mimic his dad, “‘she had legs that could bring tears to a man’s eye, even from across the room’.”

The smile came back to his face. “So that’s my favorite memory. How about yours?”

He looked down and found Juliet fast asleep against his chest. He gave a soft chuckle as he studied her. Her slightly almond shaped eyes created alluring slants when closed shut. Her lips were parted slightly forming the same tempting shape they had in anticipation of a kiss. Her breathing was soft and steady, her chest pressing gently into his side with each intake.

Chance could already feel the archives of his mind etching this picture to memory. It would be one of his favorites.