* * *

“Where to now?” Jonah asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Well, I’m starving. Can we grab a bite to eat?”

“Sure.” He smiles. “Want to ride with me?”

I glance out the window as the city rushes by in a blur.

“Can I ask you a question?” I say in a soft voice I don’t even recognize. Why am I so nervous?

“Of course, ask away.” His laid back attitude softens my nerves a tiny bit.

“Is there a reason you’ve been treating me like a five-year old at every photo shoot?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

He stops at a red light and faces me. “What are you talking about?”

“You, Jonah. You cover me up. You crop me out of shots. It’s like you don’t want me working there, or something. Does this have to do with Declan?”

He blows out a steady breath as he moves through the intersection after the light turns green. “It isn’t that.”

I cross my arms. “Well, what is it?”

He taps his thumbs on the steering wheel before answering, “I just don’t want anyone staring at you. Wait, that came out wrong. I just know what the guys are thinking when they do look at you.”

“What does that even mean? What are they thinking about?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He turns left into a parking lot of a small Italian restaurant. He shuts the Jeep off, but I don’t budge.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

He presses his lips together, creating a perfectly straight thin line. “Are you hungry? Let’s eat.” He opens his door, and places one foot on the concrete outside.

“I’m not moving until you answer.”

He smiles. “I guess you’ll starve then.” He gets out, and slams his door shut.

Asshole. I swing my door open, calling out after him, “I’m not done with this conversation, Jonah.”

He laughs, turning around to face me, and walking backwards with his hands in his jeans pockets. “Oh, I think the convo is done.”

“Not uh,” I smart back.

“Ok, see this is why I treat you like a five-year old. Look at how you’re acting.” He laughs.

I catch up to him, and he turns around to walk beside me. “I’m acting normal.” Ok, maybe I’m not, but still. He’s infuriating.

He opens the door to the restaurant, holding it for me so I can step through. The place isn’t that busy, and we sit immediately in a quiet booth in the back.

“I love Italian food,” I tell him.

“Me too. I remember your mom made the best spaghetti in the whole neighborhood.” His eyes light up and it makes me smile.

“It was Ragu.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t have anyone cooking any home-made meals for me back then,” He glances down to the menu, then shoots his eyes back at me, “Chelsea, the truth is...you’re like a sister to me.”

Ouch. It stings when he says those words.

How can he think that after the kiss we just shared?

“You’re an only child. Brothers and sisters don’t kiss like we did earlier.” My cheeks flush, slightly.

He rubs his beard as his eyes lock on mine. Is he remembering the kiss? God, I hope so. I hope he thinks about it every second of every day. I know I will.

The server stops by and does her thing, taking our order, and when she leaves the sizzling air between us is back in full force.

“About that kiss,” he says as if the interruption hadn’t even occurred.

“Yeah,” I urge. I bite my lower lip, afraid of the bombshell he’s about to lay on me.

I don’t want to hear him tell me about how it should have never happened. Or, that I’m his sister, or something dumb and asinine like that.

“It was really good,” he breathes, and I release a breath.

I want him to lean over the table and do it again, but I feel a but coming on. “But?” I ask.

He rubs his hand over his face, his forefinger brushing against his full lips. “But, it shouldn’t have happened.”

Stop the train. Stop the misery. I know it was not supposed to happen. It was dumb, childish. Just a prank to save me from a date, but still, I didn’t really know I wanted it until I was smack dab in the middle of it. Until the moment Jonah’s lips were fused to mine, I had never really thought about it. Ok, not true, but I hadn’t really thought about it in a long time.

“I know. Of course,” I agree, because really, what else can I say?

“Don’t tell your brother.” His questioning eyes meet mine, and my anger is back.

Does he really think I go around telling Declan everyone I kiss?

“My lips are sealed.” And they are sealed from ever kissing him again. “But, we still need to discuss how you treat me.”

“Look, I know I treat you like a kid. I’ll try to be better, ok?”

The server drops off our food, and I shrug at Jonah. He says he’ll try to be better and I guess I’ll just have to believe him.

He digs into his spaghetti and it brings me back to all of those years ago, Jonah at our house everyday after he lost his mother.

“Did she make good spaghetti too?” I ask.

“Yeah, I can’t really remember.” He shrugs.

“I remember her. She was great. I loved when she would make cookies for the whole neighborhood on Halloween.”

He cracks a smile. “Yeah, she loved that stuff.”

I reach my hand across the table. “I’m sure she would be proud of the man you and your brother have become.”

He twirls his fork through his spaghetti. “I haven’t really done much.”

“Are you kidding? Jonah, you’re an amazing photographer when you’re not being an ass.” I smile.

He laughs a sweet, small laugh and it makes my heart flutter. “Yes, I’m sure she’d be real proud of all the hunnies pictures I take.”

I smile wide and then take a bite of my pasta. “Well, I’m proud of you. You’re at least living your dream.”

He sits back, his eyes roaming over me. “You think it’s my dream to work for Bunny Hunnies?”

“Isn’t it every guy’s dream?”

His eyes light up. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But, I don’t know, I kind of always thought I’d be doing more. What about you? Being a swimsuit model isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

I take a sip of my wine, wondering how much I should tell him. What if he laughs? “I want to be a movie star,” I say, deciding on telling him everything.

“Is that so?” He lifts his beer pilsner to his mouth and takes a hefty sip. “I never knew that.”

“Well, how would you? I thought it would be easy. Audition for a movie and get picked first try, but it’s not.”

He raises a brow. “How many have you been on?”

I shake my head. “You don’t even want to know. But, it’s always the same things. Too short, not short enough. Too blonde, not blonde enough. It’s like every part I try out for is just not the right fit. It’s frustrating.”

“Did you know Vin Diesel had a really hard time when he first started out? He went on hundreds and hundreds of auditions, and same thing, just never the right fit. But, he kept trying,” he presses his finger to his lips, “or he made a video about it. I can’t remember. Thing is, look at Leo.”

“Leo?”

“Yeah, Leonardo DiCaprio, man tried and tried for an Oscar so many times. I had kinda given up hope he’d ever win won, but you know what?” He leans forward.

So, I lean forward as well. “No, what?”

“He never gave up hope,” he says.

“Ah.” I sit back up, taking another sip of my wine.

I have so many more things I want to ask him. Like did he like kissing me as much as I enjoyed kissing him. But, I keep my mouth shut about it.

* * *

Tonight, I’ll lay it all out on the line. Tonight is my chance to try. And you know what they say, ‘You never really know if something will work out unless you try.’

That kiss, well, it was everything, and I want to try with Jonah. Crazier things have happened. Maybe things will work out.

Or, maybe he’ll shoo me away. At any rate, I’m going to do it. A few hours later, after saying goodbye to Gidget and assuring her I’ll let her know what happens, I drive home ready to make my move on Jonah.

When I step inside the house, the lights are off. Great. He’s not even here.

“Jonah?” I call out.

“Over here.”

“Why are you sitting in the dark?” I flick the light on in the living room and he raises his hand to block the light from his eyes.

“Thinking.”

I kick off my shoes and join him on the couch.

“About what?”

“Wayne.” His voice is raspy, moody and his brow furrows.

“The male model going to Vegas with us? Why are you thinking about him?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He gets up from the couch. “How was your date?” He makes his way into the kitchen and I follow.

“I didn’t have one. I went out with Gidget.” I grab his arm, spinning him around to face me. “Why the sourpuss mood?”

He crosses his arms. “The what mood?”

“Sourpuss. And why are you thinking about Wayne?” I lean against the counter.

He steps closer, boxing me in with his arms as he places his palms down on the granite countertop. “I don’t want him touching you.”

I swallow. “Why?” I barely get out.

He presses his body closer. “Because.”

“Come on, Jonah. Why?”

His eyes drop to my lips, and I dart my tongue out to wet them. “Because I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. And that’s fucked up, considering.”

“Considering what?” I can barely breathe. I want more than anything for him to kiss me again.

His hand lifts to my cheek, his fingers tracing over my skin. “Considering you’re Chelsea. And I’d never go there with you ever again.”

I don’t want his fingers to stop touching me. I don’t want his eyes to stop searing into my lips. I want him to kiss me. “

* * *

shakes his head. “Go to bed, Chelsea.”

I don’t like how he treats me. Not throwing a full on fit, I walk away. I want to yell at him. I want to tell him off for treating me like a child.

I slam my door. Ok, one childish action. But, as I get ready for bed, I can’t forget the way he stared at me.

Lust-filled eyes. Licking his bottom lip. The hunger in his voice.

Tomorrow I leave for Vegas, and I put the thoughts of Jonah behind me. I won’t ever make the mistake of throwing myself at him again.

He will never see the way I see him.

* * *

Sunlight slices through the curtains of the Bellagio suite. My head spins like a merry-go-round. Images from last night pound through my head, but I push them away as I open my eyes.

What day is it?

I glance over, Chelsea lays on her side, still fully clothed. Her leg is draped over me. I slide it off me, and roll out of bed...ever so slowly.

I squint at the bright lights of the room. It’s all so sunny and cheery. I glance at the clock.

“Shit, Chelsea wake up,” I whisper-scream to her as it’s all I can handle this early, or should I say late.

“Huh?” She stirs in the bed, but doesn’t open her eyes.

“We’re going to miss our flight. Get up.” I tug at her leg.

Her head bounces up, and then her hand flies to it, massaging her hair. “Oh God, I feel horrible.”

“Me too. But, we need to go.”

I pack things into suitcases as she heads to her room to do the same. Our flight leaves very soon. It’s a quick flight back, but one we don’t want to miss.

We race through the airport. We zip through security. We try our hardest to catch the flight on time, but we miss it.

And Chelsea’s face falls flat. “What are we going to do?” She faces me.

“It’s ok. We’ll just hop on the next flight going out.”

The attendant behind the desk stares at me with a blank expression as I try to make this right.

Here’s the thing, they aren’t that nice to you when you miss a flight.

But, it’s Vegas this kind of thing must happen all the time. Right?

We were both plastered last night. I’m sure we aren’t the only ones who’ve ever done this. But, with the expression ol’ Gretchen, I read her name tag, is giving us...I think we are.

She has zero sympathy and even less tolerance for our situation.

She tells us all flights are booked until tomorrow. But, Chelsea doesn’t like that idea.

She tugs my arm. “I have an audition tomorrow morning.”

I scrub a hand over my jaw and up through my hair. “Ok.” My mind goes blank.

Another airline. Another flight. Is there anyone who can help us?

After another hour of trying to work things out, we realize it’s hopeless.

“This sucks,” Chelsea says.

“I’ll get you home.”

And an idea occurs to me, and I grab her hand.

We rush down the terminal, and through another set of sliding doors.

“You want to drive?” she asks.

“Sure, why not. It’s a quick drive. We’ll be home in no time.”

She wraps her arms around me and I feel a zing inside my chest from the contact. “Thank you, Jonah.” She kisses my cheek.

“It’s fine.”

I rent the car. A hip little sporty number.

We pile in and I set off.

“I’m sorry about everything,” I say.

“I’m not. I had a great time with you, Jonah. Not loving today too much, but last night was great. Don’t really remember a lot of it.” She scratches her head.

“I think we need some food. It might make the hangover loosen up.”

“I love that idea.”

I spot a small diner and we pull over.

We step through the dusty parking lot, and head inside.

It’s tiny, and not many people around. We grab a booth and slide in.

“About last night.”

“No, we aren’t speaking of it. Remember, what happens in Vegas…”

“Stays in Vegas,” she finishes.

“Right. It was a one time thing. Nothing to get worked up over.” I don’t want it to be one time. But, I keep my mouth shut about it.

“Yeah, just please don’t tell Declan.” The sun bounces off her pretty blue eyes.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The waitress stops by in her yellow apron and takes our orders. We order greasy bacon, eggs, and the whole nine yards.

Hangover cure

* * *

The food arrives and we eat in silence for a few minutes until Chelsea bursts into a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“I’m just imagining what my brother would think if he knew we hooked up.”

I run a hand over my face. “Don’t remind me. He’d definitely kill me.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” She gazes upward, then her soft stare lands back on me. She leans closer. “I’m sure he’d murder us both and bury us in the desert.”

“That’s reassuring. Thanks.”

She laughs again.

It’s a sweet laugh, one that I catalogue the sound of. So I can replay it over and over.

We finish up our meal and get on the road again.

Nothing but desert for as far as the eye can see.

She leans over to take a quick nap as I turn the radio up a bit.

My mind wanders back to our fun we had in Vegas. One thing stands out amidst the drunken stupor of forgotten activities.

Holy fuck.

I pull off the side of the road. Need fresh air. I exit the car, and slam the door, loudly. So loudly she wakes up.

I don’t even dare breathe when she stares at me through the window.

I pace the side of the highway.

How fucking stupid.

How dumb could I be?

A wedding chapel.

The song.

Chelsea and I giggling down the aisle.

* * *

I turn to leave, and she calls after me.

“Will you join me?”

I slip into the tub behind her. She lets me shampoo her hair, and her mood improves. I kiss the back of her neck.

Such soft skin. After a few seconds we’re making out, forgetting about all of our problems in the world.

She lets me touch her in the most intimate of ways, and it hits me like a thousand heavy bricks. She’s my wife. And tonight, I make love to her like she is.

I treat her like the love of my life with each kiss and caress. We spend a while in the tub, getting well acquainted with each other’s bodies.

After the water runs cold, I lift her out and take her to the bedroom. I dry her off, slowly, seductively. She ooh’s when I climb on top of her. She cries soft tears when I enter her. I make love to her all night long, almost letting the words slip out of my mouth.

Almost telling her all of my secrets. Almost telling her I never want to let her go.

And I realize while I’m deep inside her, and her eyes cast their voodoo over me...that I don’t want an annulment. What if I could stay married to her?

Fuck, I think I might just love her that much.