Beautiful Bombshell

Page 13

“Told them I was going to the toilet and left.”

Her eyebrows disappeared beneath her hair and she fell back against the seat in laughter. “And you’ve been gone all this time?”

I nodded. “Suppose they’ll try and suss out the truth of where I’ve gone. Damn them.” I finished adjusting my clothes and leaned across the chair, taking her face in my hands and dragging a finger down her nose. “I’ve got to go.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I love you, Petal.”

“Love you too, stranger.”

FIVE

Bennett Ryan

I was pretty sure I looked like an idiot. Will and Henry continued to sip their drinks and pore over the menu, oblivious to the fact that I was sitting across from them, damn near giggling and randomly breaking into the widest, goofiest grins imaginable.

Despite Max’s sudden departure, I was still on a high from how much fun it had been to follow Chloe, then spank and f**k her in a bathroom. And she was going to be my wife.

I had no idea how I’d gotten so lucky.

“Are you gentlemen ready?” the waiter asked, removing a slew of empty glasses from the table and stacking them on his tray. Will and Henry looked up for the first time in about ten minutes and blinked around the table.

“Max not back yet?” Will asked, surprised.

I shook my head, refolding my napkin in an attempt to avoid their eyes. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Should we wait for him or . . .?” Henry asked. “I could go out and kill a few minutes at one of the tables while we wait.”

I glanced down at my watch and groaned; the flimsy excuse Max had used about needing the bathroom was most definitely losing its credibility with each passing minute. And it wasn’t that I particularly cared if Max got busted—it’s possible that might actually improve my night—but if Max went down then so did I. We had the rest of the weekend with these guys, and Will would make it a living hell if he found out we’d been sneaking out to bang our girlfriends on Valentine’s Day.

And, truth be told, Will was the only single one here and was the most focused on hanging out with the guys. I felt a pang of guilt that, of the three of us who seemed to care more for women than gambling, he was the only one not getting laid this weekend.

“Sure he’ll be back any minute,” I said. “Must not have been feeling well.”

“What the hell did you two eat anyway?” Henry asked.

I tried to formulate an answer and remembered the waiter only when I heard him sigh. “I’ll give you gentlemen a few more minutes,” he said before stepping away.

Will narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, what is going on,” he said, words slurring together a little. “There’s no way a person could have this much diarrhea and survive.”

“Thank you for that very tasteful analysis.” I set my napkin on my plate and stood. “I’ll just step over there and see how much longer. You two go ahead and order for us. I’ll have the filet. Bloody.” I started to walk away and stopped, turning to face them again. “Oh, and get yourself a few more drinks,” I added with a smile. “It’s on me.”

The mood in the restaurant had changed as the night went on. Lights embedded in the ceiling and around the room had shifted from the soft white to warm gold, washing everything in rich color. The music was louder, not so loud that you couldn’t talk or make out individual conversations, but loud enough that you could feel it deep in your chest, a pounding like a second heartbeat. It felt more like a nightclub than a restaurant now and made it easier for me to step out unnoticed, to text Max.

Where the f**k are you?

I paced the glossy wood floors just outside, debating whether I could leave and get away with it. My phone vibrated with his incoming message less than a minute later.

Just pulling up. Two minutes.

We need to talk, I answered. I’ll meet you near valet.

With a glance over my shoulder to make sure Will or Henry hadn’t followed, I headed down to meet Max.

The casino floor was bustling. The sound of laughter and cheering floated up from one of the tables and a couple of police officers stood near the entrance, speaking to a group of valets.

Max stepped through the doors and stopped just in front of me, rebuttoning his suit jacket and straightening his tie. “Always so impatient,” he said, glancing twice at the police before gripping my arm. “Perhaps we could move just over here . . .” He guided us away from the area and out of their direct line of sight.

“Oh, that’s comforting. You’re dodging the police now? Jesus Christ, what is happening? I feel like an accomplice in some sort of crime spree,” I said, running a hand through my hair.

“The less you know, the better, mate. Trust me.”

“And the toilet, Max? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“As if your excuse was any better? An ulcer? You’ve lost your touch, mate. The Ben I knew in uni would be ashamed. Love’s made you soft.”

I sighed, glancing behind me. “You’ve been gone for almost an hour. What the f**k took you so long?”

He gave me a wide, leering smile. He looked happy. Fuck, he looked downright giddy, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. I knew that expression; I’d been wearing it less than ten minutes ago.

“Just gave the lady friend a screaming orgasm, mate.”

“Okay, right. I did not need to know that.”

“You’re one to talk.” He stretched his neck, cracking it. “So how are the boys?”

“Replacing most of their blood with vodka and discussing the beauty of aged meats.”

“Shall we head up for dinner, then?”

He went to push by me but I reached for his arm, stopping him. “Look, you know what I’ve been doing and I know what you’ve been doing, let’s cut the bullshit. Back in New York, I’m lucky to get Chloe to myself for ten full minutes. They’re only here tonight. Let’s help each other out here.”

His expression seemed to sober and he nodded. “Am I the only one that finds it hilarious that it’s Valentine’s Day and we’re the ones behaving like idiots and chasing them rather than the other way ’round?”

“The thought may have occurred to me once or twice, yes,” I said with a shake of my head. These women made us insane. “We need a plan. It will be no problem to get our comrades lost in a meat coma but that won’t last all night. And Will is getting suspicious.”

“Agreed,” he said. “How much do you think he knows?”

“I’m not sure. Henry hasn’t stopped drinking or looking at the poker chips in his pocket all night, but Will—he seems to be under the impression that you and I are both suffering from some sort of horrible digestive issue.”

Max groaned. “I’ll want to see her again, mate. I have to be honest. She’s here, and she’s . . . well, I’d like to check in on her again.” He looked up at me and I nodded, understanding. “Will would never let me live it down if he thinks I couldn’t go a single weekend without seeing her. You know him. I love the man but he’s enough of a tosser as it is; I’m not giving him this, too,” he said, shaking his head.

“Exactly. My brother loves giving me shit about Chloe and the fact that I slept with her while she still worked for me. If he finds out about this there won’t be a Ryan family holiday where he doesn’t regale everyone with the story of the other time Bennett couldn’t keep it in his pants. Fuck that.”

“Right.”

“So what now? If we wanted to see them again tonight, how could that work?”

Max paced back and forth in front of the registration desk before turning to face me. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m thinking . . .” He was looking down at the ground, still putting the pieces together in his head. “I think . . . we need them distracted, yeah? And we want to make sure Will has a brilliant night.”

I nodded. “But it’s got to be more than booze. Those two have been drinking all night and somehow still seem to be functioning. I don’t want them blind or facedown in a gutter somewhere.”

“Obviously.” Max pulled out his phone and began scrolling through the contacts. I shifted from foot to foot and kept glancing over my shoulder, waiting for Henry to come out and drag me back by my collar to the table.

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