Chapter Eight
Presley wasn’t the best flyer but Seth was acting even worse. His face was pale and his gaze was darting all over the waiting area of the airport as if expecting a maintenance crew to come strolling in pronouncing the plane unworthy for takeoff. Or maybe he was watching to see if the wing fell off while it sat on the tarmac. Either way, she was surprised to see her husband so nervous. They’d flown before and he’d been fine, although he’d complained about the legroom. He was a tall man and the space between the rows didn’t allow him to stretch out much, if at all.
“Flying is much safer than driving.”
Brows pinched together, Seth turned his attention to Presley. “What?”
“Flying is much safer than driving.” She placed her hand on his and laced their fingers together. “You seem nervous. Everything is going to be fine. It’s only a two-hour flight. We’ll be there before you know it.”
An older woman sat across from them reading a book on her e-reader. “Maybe you should have a drink, young man. It might relax you.”
“It’s one in the afternoon,” Seth protested but the older woman simply laughed.
“You’re going to Vegas where there are no clocks. Live a little.”
Presley gave a grateful smile to the woman. “She’s right, Seth. When we get on the plane have a beer. My name’s Presley, by the way, and this is my husband Seth. He’s usually not afraid to fly.”
“I’m not afraid to fly,” he protested, his gaze going over her head again. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
An interesting statement. What was going on in Seth’s head these days? She had no idea but last night she’d thought everything was back on track. But now that she’d had time to think about it this entire trip was so out of character. One minute he’d acted like he didn’t want to be married anymore and the next he was sweeping her off to Vegas for a second honeymoon. Very suspicious behavior for a man that was so regimented his closet was organized by color.
“My name’s Tilda and it’s nice to meet you.” Tilda closed her e-reader and placed it on her lap. “Is this your first time going to Vegas?”
“Actually we got married in Vegas about six years ago,” Presley laughed, linking her arm with Seth’s. “We’re doing a second honeymoon while the kids are on a trip with their grandparents.”
“Honey,” Seth said in a chiding tone. “I doubt Tilda wants to hear all about this. She’s reading her book.”
“Oh, but I do,” Tilda replied, wearing a big smile. “It’s so nice to see a young couple so happy and in love. You’re going to love Vegas. So much fun. I go twice a year, no matter what.”
“Twice a year? That’s amazing. All by yourself?” Presley asked.
Chuckling, the older woman shook her head. “Not at all. I have a group of friends that I meet. We’re all widows now and grandmas but we’re not dead, if you know what I mean.”
Tilda winked and giggled. What a fun and charming woman. Presley wished that she had a grandma like Tilda. What little family she had was currently doing life in a federal prison for selling arms to terrorists and trying to kill her. More than once.
“You might have to give us some tips on things to do.”
Tilda eyed Seth up and down. “If I had a husband that looked like him I’d never leave the hotel room.”
Presley burst into laughter but Seth didn’t appear amused, shifting uncomfortably under the grandma’s unabashedly admiring gaze and tugging at the collar of his shirt.
“You young people are so easy to embarrass,” Tilda laughed. “When you get to be my age not much bothers you. Because believe me when I tell you that great sex is about the best thing in life.” She held up the e-reader. “Of course, these days I can only read about it. But the hotter the book the better, if you ask me.”
Poor Seth was blushing but Presley was having a great time. “I’m definitely going to need your book recommendations.”
Tilda’s eyes lit up. “I have so many. You’ll love them.”
A movement out of the corner of Presley’s eye captured her attention. Twisting in her seat, she pointed to a crowd of people near the coffee vendor. “Seth, is that Griffin Sawyer over there?”
“No.”
Frowning at her recalcitrant husband, Presley pushed at his shoulder. “You didn’t even look. I think I saw Griffin.”
“You didn’t see Griffin.”
“How do you know? You won’t even look.”
Sighing, Seth looked up from his plane ticket. “Fine, where did you see him?”
Presley pointed behind Seth. “Over there near the coffee.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Seth shook his head. “I don’t see him.”
“You didn’t even hardly look.”
What was with her husband lately?
Seth’s brows rose. “Do you still see him?”
“Well…no.”
“Then how would I see him if you can’t?”
He made it sound so logical but deep down she knew he was being a shit.
“Because you’re taller,” she explained, semi-patiently. “If you would stand up and take a look, you might see him.”
With a sigh heavier than the last one Seth levered to his feet. “Fine. Now tell me where again?”
“There.” She pointed to the line wrapped around the coffee kiosk. “He was standing there but looking in a different direction.”
This time Seth really looked, examining the entire area. “Sorry, honey. I don’t see him. It was probably someone that just looked a lot like him. They say everyone has a twin.”
She could have sworn she saw him but perhaps not. “It sure looked like him. Maybe he and Jazz are visiting Los Angeles.”
Seth settled back into the hard, uncomfortable chair. “He didn’t mention anything when I saw him a few days ago.”
“You didn’t mention you saw him,” Presley pointed out. This was becoming a habit. So much went on in Seth’s life and she never heard about it.
Shrugging, he opened his phone and began scrolling. “He stopped by. It wasn’t a big thing.”
Tilda leaned forward in her seat. “If you want to go look for your friend, I’d be happy to watch your bags.”
“No,” Seth said loudly. “I mean, that’s okay. He’s not here.”
Presley wanted to smack the back of her husband’s head. “Seth,” she whispered. “Be nice. She was just trying to help.”
Of course her law enforcement husband wasn’t going to allow a stranger to guard their belongings. He was suspicious of everyone. Right now, Presley was only suspicious of him. He’d been acting strange as hell. A few days ago she’d been sure he was tired of her, but now she simply thought he needed more excitement in his life. He was tired of the same-old every day. He just didn’t know how to verbalize his boredom.
“I know but he’s not here. Why would he be here?”
Presley didn’t want to argue with her husband about all the reasons – good and bad – that could have Griffin catching a flight out of Billings. She wanted their second honeymoon to be peaceful, fun, and full of raucous sex. Lots and lots of it.
The announcement for their flight came over the loudspeaker. It was time to board. One step closer to that hotel room and Vegas, baby.
* * * *
Seth didn’t think the nice little old lady he and Presley had chatted with in the waiting area of the airport worked for Harbaugh but he couldn’t be absolutely sure. It was for that reason he’d tried to keep Presley from becoming too friendly with her and revealing too much about Ben and Lulu but as always, with his wife it was a losing battle. People were just attracted to her funny and warm personality. She could talk to anyone about pretty much anything and he ought to know. When he’d met her they’d been talking about sex within thirty minutes of shaking hands.
And he didn’t talk about sex with anybody. But he had that night. She could draw out even the most shy people and he found it a lovely trait. Just not today when he was trying to keep her from being killed.
To his relief, Tilda had been seated in another row so he and Presley ended up talking to a young woman who was going to be a bridesmaid in the wedding of a close friend who was sitting a few rows in front of them. Seth spent the flight scrutinizing their fellow passengers looking for anyone that appeared shifty or out of place while Presley quizzed the young woman about all the wedding details. Once again, by the end of the flight they’d exchanged email addresses and looked to be fast friends.
For maximum privacy, Seth had splurged on a private taxi instead of a shuttle to whisk them off to the Bellagio, and he kept an arm around her when they exited the vehicle, pulling her close as they bustled through the lobby. His gaze swept over the expansive space, taking in his surroundings. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for but he’d know it when he saw it. It might be someone staring at them for a second too long or maybe the same person coincidentally being in the same places all the time. He had to be on alert every minute.
There was no line at the check-in desk so he and Presley walked right up. He had printed out his online reservation and handed her the paperwork.
“That’s Reilly, correct?” she asked, her gaze trained on the computer screen. “Seth Reilly?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, looking over his shoulder. The sooner they were in the room, the better he’d feel.
“I’ll need a picture ID and a credit card.” The young hotel clerk behind the counter tapped on her keyboard and then frowned, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Um, could you wait here, please? I’ll be right back.”
“Is there a problem with our reservation? Are we not in the system?”
He hated making reservations online. Didn’t trust the process. That’s why he’d printed out the receipt and confirmation number.
“It’s fine. You’re in the computer. I just have a question for my manager about your room.”
The girl fled behind a glass wall as he dug his driver’s license and credit card out of his wallet.
Presley leaned close to him, her brows raised in question and her voice low. “This doesn’t sound good. Maybe the people that were supposed to check out of our room haven’t left yet.”
Seth hadn’t requested anything outrageous. A regular non-smoking room with a king-sized bed that didn’t overlook a parking lot.
An older man in a dark suit rounded the glass wall with the clerk on his heels. Holding out his hand, he smiled at Seth and Presley. “Mr. and Mrs. Reilly, how very nice to meet you. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay in Las Vegas so far. I’m Nicholas Hammond, the manager of the hotel.”
Seth shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Mr. Hammond. We’ve only been in Las Vegas for about an hour so everything is going well so far. Is there a problem with our room?”
That question had Hammond swallowing hard and looking nervous. “Yes and no, Mr. Reilly. The original room you booked online does have an issue. The guest that was staying in that room contracted a nasty stomach virus and only checked out a few minutes ago. Needless to say, the room needs…disinfecting…along with the carpets and drapes cleaned.”
The manager looked a little green and Seth was pretty sure the poor guy had seen the room up close and personal.
“So….”
Hammond tried to give them a reassuring smile. “However, we are assigning you to another room. And congratulations, due to several conventions in town you’re getting an upgrade from your original room category but at the same price. The only problem is that the room won’t be ready for a few hours. Maybe more.” Seth opened his mouth to assure the manager that the delay was fine but the man was already speaking again. “Of course, we here at the hotel want to apologize for this confusion. While you wait, we’d like you to enjoy lunch on us at one of our excellent restaurants.”
It was past lunchtime but not yet dinner and he and Presley had barely eaten all day. It sounded like a great deal.
“That will be fine,” Seth replied. “Are you okay with that, Presley?”
“Sounds good to me, but what about our luggage?”
“I’ll have a bellman take care of your bags,” Hammond said, waving to a young man with a large cart. “I can send you a text when the room is ready.”
The one thing Seth had learned that when traveling you had to roll with the punches, even if someone was trying to kill you. So far there wasn’t any sign that they were being followed or watched. If they’d successfully snuck out of Harper, there was no reason not to relax and have a good time. This was Vegas, after all.
Have fun. But be vigilant.