Watching her experience flying for the first time was a riot. She stared out the window for the entire first flight. When it came time to fasten our belt to land, I effectively distracted her again. Then again on our connecting flight for both takeoff and landing. Yes, flying with Saylor is a good time for sure.
“I’ll go check us in,” I tell her.
She nods. “I’ll be right over there.” She points to a lobby of chairs a few feet from the registration desk.
I’ve already given her the “don’t go anywhere without me” speech. I’ve heard of some crazy-ass things happening in Vegas. Not on my watch, not with Saylor. I’m going to be stuck to her like glue. Waiting in line, I look over my shoulder just to make sure she’s still there. She’s a grown woman, I know, but you hear about disappearances all the time. You can never be too cautious.
“Hi, Rhett Baxter checking in.” I hand over my license and the company credit card.
“Welcome, Mr. Baxter. We have you in the presidential suite.” She types furiously on her keyboard. I’m surprised by this. Gramps isn’t one for flashy, unless you count the house. He always said he did that for Grams. He built her her dream home.
“There should be two rooms,” I tell her.
“Yes, sir. The suite is actually a three bedroom,” she says, never looking up, keeping her eyes glued to the screen.
Dorothy did me a solid. Saylor will be in my suite where I know she’s safe. Paranoid, yes, but everything is different with Saylor, it’s more.
“Here you are. Do you need help with your bags?” she asks, handing me a key.
“No thank you. Which elevator?”
She points across the hall to a golden set of doors. “This is the only one that will take you to the presidential suite. If you are on another floor, you’ll have to ride down to catch this one. It’s for security purposes,” she explains.
“No complaints.” I nod in thanks and turn to join Saylor. She’s sitting in the same place, but now there are three guys sitting around her. One on each side and one on the table in front of her. They’re about our age. The one on the left is wearing a bright green shirt with white lettering that says, “Buy this guy a shot, he’s tying the knot.” The other two are wearing shirts that are white with bright green lettering that says, “Groom Squad.” Great, that’s all I need is drunk guys trolling for pussy hitting on her.
Strolling up behind her, I place my hands on her shoulders, bend down, and kiss the top of her head. “Ready, baby?”
Titling her head back, she looks up at me, a smirk on her lips. “Yeah.” She stands.
“You’re leaving?” one of the groom squad asks.
“Yeah, my fiancé and I are just checking in. It’s been a long flight,” she says.
He mumbles “lucky bastard” under his breath but still loud enough that we can all hear him.
Sliding my arm around her waist, I pull her close. “Thanks for keeping my girl company,” I say, driving the point home that she’s mine. Well, not mine technically, but when it comes to them she is. I’m working on the technical part. Slow and steady wins the race.
In the elevator, there is only one button. “Uh, are we in the right one?” Saylor asks.
“Yeah,” I say, hitting the “P” button. “Apparently Dorothy booked us the Presidential Suite. It’s a three bedroom.”
“Wow, okay then. So we’re staying in the same room?”
“Not the same bedroom. I mean, unless you want to, you know, snuggle with your fiancé.” I dip my shoulder into hers, laughing.
“Hey! You were the one puffing out your chest, acting like you had to stake a claim. I was just playing along.”
“They looked shady,” I tell her.
She throws her head back in laughter, and two things hit me all at once. One, I want to make her laugh like that every day, and two, there is no sweeter sound.
“They did not,” she says, smacking my arm playfully. “You’re something else.” She smiles up at me.
“I’m telling you, trust no one in this town. Stay close,” I remind her.
“Yes, sir.” She salutes me with a playful grin.
“So what do you want to do first?” I ask as we reach our floor.
“Um, you’re asking me? The girl who has been to two states her entire life?”
“Yeah, I promised to show you around. What do you want to see?” I ask, setting our bags in the living area.
“This place is bigger than my apartment,” she says, looking around.
“You can choose whichever room you want, and I’ll pick what’s left.”
“Oh, I’ll take any of them. I’m not picky.”
“I know you’re not, but I want this to be an adventure for you. Go look at the rooms and pick yours. I’ll bring your bag once you’ve decided.” She hesitates for a brief few seconds before going to explore the rooms.
“Rhett!” she calls out for me while still in the first room. I follow the sound of her voice and find her in sitting in the middle of a huge bathtub. “This thing can fit like eight people, and look at the shower.” She points behind me. “It’s huge!”
“That’s what she said,” I retort.
“This is my room,” she says, leaning back and closing her eyes.
She didn’t even notice my lewd remark; she’s too excited to let it faze her. “I’ll get your bag,” I say, leaving her to her daydreaming.
After leaving her bag in her room and telling her she has thirty minutes to freshen up, I force myself to go choose a room of my own. Since she wasn’t sure what she wants to do, we’re going to go explore the city, maybe pick up a show if we can find tickets. I have no agenda, other than getting out of this suite. I can’t be trusted to be in here for the rest of the night with just the two of us. Hell, sleeping is going to be hard, considering the last time she slept across the hall from me, I ended up holding her all night long.
“Ready,” she calls out twenty-five minutes faster than I told her she needed to be.
She’s excited, and that makes me smile. “Give me a minute,” I yell back. I shake off thoughts of her sleeping in my arms and change my clothes.
“So what are we doing?” she asks when I step into the living area. She’s bouncing with excitement.
“We need to grab some dinner. I thought we could walk around until we find something, and then maybe catch a show.”
“It’s late,” she reminds me.
“This is Vegas, Short Stack, the city that never sleeps. Some of the shows don’t even start until eleven.”
“Wow. Okay then, let’s do this.” She stands and shoves her phone in her back pocket.
I do the same then hold my hand out for her. She takes it without hesitation, and that alone has this shaping up to be a great night. “Which way?” I ask when we’re standing outside of our hotel.
“Left,” she says, smiling.
We take off in that direction. Saylor’s smile is blinding. I’ve been to Vegas many times, but it’s like I’m experiencing it all over again for the first time through her eyes. She’s fucking gorgeous on the daily, but the smile that lights up her face takes my breath away. I sound like a putz waxing poetic shit in my head, but I can’t seem to prevent it when it comes to her. She’s got this hold on me, like her kisses have cast a spell.
“There.” She points to a sign for a burlesque show.
“That what you want to do?”
Her face turns a light shade of pink as she nods. “Yeah, it should be fun, right?” she asks hesitantly.
Unable to stop myself, I pull her into my chest and bend down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “It will be fun,” I tell her. Pulling away is a feat, but I manage. We walk to the end of the block, and I’m able to secure us two tickets to tonight’s show. “So we have a couple of hours. Let’s go find some food.” We settle on a steakhouse right on the strip. We’re seated at a booth in the back of the restaurant. Saylor slides in her seat across from me, her smile still firmly in place.
“Thank you for this, Rhett.”
“You’re welcome, but I should be thanking you. You’re doing me a solid by being here on such short notice.”
“It worked out,” she says, opening her menu. She doesn’t say anything as she reads over her choices.
Once we’ve ordered, our salads are delivered and conversation flows. She asks me about the distillery and the brewery. She talks about working at the Corner Pocket and how she’s happier there than she ever was at her job in human resources with her ex’s family’s company.
“Why do you think that is?” I ask her.
“I assume it was us, our relationship. I always felt as though I was out of place. I didn’t realize it until we were broken up. When we were together, I chalked it up to never feeling like I belonged. Even with Elaine, there was always this nagging feeling that she felt sorry for me and her connection to my parents was what prompted her to take me in. I know that’s irrational, but it’s hard to train yourself to think otherwise.”
“What about your ex?” I ask her. “He chose you.”
“He did, but looking back, it’s what I could bring to the table. I could work for his family’s company. I fit the mold, I guess you could say.”
“You deserve better,” I say, barely able to keep my voice calm. Her ex is a fucking douchebag. He let the best thing that ever happened to him slip through his fingers.
“I do,” she agrees. “It’s just hard, you know. I have no family. Most men who are ready to settle down look for that. You know ‘What’s her mom look like? Because that’s what you’re going to be waking up next to in thirty years.’” She takes a drink of her wine. “And what if someday I have kids? I mean, I know my parents, and I have their records from the foster system. Elaine somehow pulled some strings, but that’s it. I don’t know if my grandparents had heart disease or diabetes. What if my kids get sick and I need that information and I can’t help them?”
Reaching across the table, I rest my hand on top of hers. “Saylor, you can’t worry about the unknown. When you’re a mother, you will do what you have to do for your children. Okay, so you don’t have that long line of family history to fall back on. You don’t need that to treat heart disease or diabetes. You can’t let your past control your future.”
She takes another drink of wine, this time draining her glass. I grab the bottle and fill it back up. “I get that, I do.” She closes her eyes and sinks back against the booth seat. “I think my fear comes from never being first choice. You know? I mean, I want a man to fall in love with me because of who I am, my past, my present, what will be my future. I want him to choose me for me, not for what I can bring to his company or how I’ll look on his arm.” She closes her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again and locking her gaze on me. “As far as my hypothetical children, I’ve never lived in a normal environment. Two loving parents, grandparents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles—I’ve never lived that life. Elaine is my only true example of how to love and nurture, and I’m scared as hell I’ll fuck it all up. That not having that history will somehow taint the mother I could be. Not being able to give them that.”
The waiter interrupts and drops off our steaks. I thank him and wait until he’s out of earshot before replying. “Any man—” She bows her head. “Look at me, Saylor.” I wait several heartbeats until she looks up at me. “Any man would be one lucky son of a bitch to get to call you his. Your family is what you make it. Nothing in your past will prevent you from being a good mother, wife, or daughter-in-law. Nothing. You have to believe in yourself. You make your dreams a reality, Say.”
“Enough of the heavy.” She sits forward and grabs her steak knife and fork. “This looks great.”
I let her change the subject, partly because I want to shake her and kiss her at the same time. I want to prove to her that she’s worthy of anything and everything she’s ever dreamed of. We eat dinner, only discussing safer topics, such as tomorrow’s sampling and how Gramps is doing.
“It’s hard to watch them slip,” she says softly.
“It is.” I clear the emotion from my throat. “For me it’s doubled because he’s still pissed at me. I swear that man knows how to hold a grudge. He barely speaks to me, and it’s been months.”
“He’ll come around. You have to give him time,” she assures me.
“That’s just it, Short Stack, what if he doesn’t have time?”
“I wish I knew the answer. I wish I had words of wisdom for you. All I can say is keep trying. Never go a day without letting him know you’re here and how much he means to you. If I’ve learned anything, I’ve learned that.” She picks up her fork and begins eating again. We finish our meal in comfortable silence.
“You ready for this?” I ask her as we leave the restaurant.
“I am.” She grins, and I feel my body relax knowing that she’s happy again. We’ve had enough of the heavy for one night.
Instead of holding her hand, I place my arm around her shoulders and hold her close. She doesn’t pull away like I expected her to. I think we both need the connection after our dinner conversation. The burlesque show is just one block down from the restaurant. I was lucky enough to snag some pretty killer seats down front. I’m not sure how, considering it was such short notice, but when I told the lady at the ticket counter I wanted the best possible, she came through for me. Maybe I looked desperate and she threw me a bone? All I do know is that I’m sitting about ten rows back from the stage at a Vegas burlesque show with my arm around the most beautiful girl in the building. Well worth whatever it is I paid for these seats. I didn’t even ask, just handed her my card and told her to make it happen.
The lights go out, and Saylor leans into me. “I’m so excited,” she whispers.
I chuckle at her and relax against the seat, my arm still around her shoulders. When the curtain rises and the dancers come out, she’s transfixed. I can’t take my eyes off of hers as they widen with the sexy dance moves and excitement of all that is Vegas. Every so often, she turns to look at me a wide grin splitting her face; every single time, I’m already looking at her. She doesn’t comment. She’s too damn excited to even notice that she’s all I see.
“That was amazing,” she says once the lights come on. She’s biting her bottom lip, something she’s done a lot since the dancers took the stage. I dare to think she’s turned on. I know I am. My cock has been hard as one of the dancer’s stilettos since we sat down. It’s all Saylor. “Now what?” she asks.
“Anything you want.” I stand and grab her hand, guiding her back out to the strip.
“What about the lights, you know, the fountains? I’ve always wanted to see that,” she says hopefully.
“I think they happen every fifteen minutes at night.” Looking down at my watch, I see it’s half past eleven. “We have about three blocks to walk in fifteen minutes, you up for the challenge?”
“Yes!” She jumps and claps her hands. “I got my running shoes on.” She sticks out her foot to show me she’s wearing her Chucks—not that I didn’t already know that. I’ve memorized every inch of her that I can see tonight.
“All right, babe, let’s go.” We take off at a fast walk, her hand in mine.
“Your legs are too damn long.” She laughs, jogging to keep up with my brisk pace.
I stop and crouch down. “Hop on,” I tell her.
“What? No. I’ll hurt you.”
“Really, Short Stack?” She rolls those baby blues at me.
Smiling, she climbs on, wrapping her arms and legs around me. I take off at my brisk pace, only a little faster. She clings to me, her laughter next to my ear. It makes me want to run her up and down the strip all night long. Well, it makes me want to do more than that, but my cock doesn’t get to come out and play, no matter how much we both want him to.
We reach the Bellagio just as the show starts for the last time of the day. “We made it,” she squeals.
Before I can stop her, she’s sliding down my back and standing in front of me. She looks up and watches with rapt attention. When she looks over her shoulder at me smiling, I can’t stay away from her. Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around her and bring her back to my chest. Eventually, she settles her head against my chest and enjoys the show. I’ve seen it before, several times in fact, but never like this. Never with my cock hard a steel, and my heart pounding so hard I feel as though it could bounce right out of my chest. Never with a beautiful woman wrapped in my arms. Never with the thoughts racing through my mind of how to keep her there.