Page 79 of Illicit Temptation

“Okay. And no grandfathering or exceptions?”

“What kind of exception?” she asks.

My heart races.I was drunk and unable to consent.Trace can say it, too. He can tell her I was shitfaced. But he doesn’t.

And neither do I.

LIKE ZOMBIES, TRACEand I walk a few blocks before he starts looking for another cab. The sound of whooshing water and a faint mist hitting my skin steals my sad focus.

The Bellagio Fountains.

We give into the touristy allure and amble that way. Breathing in the chlorine scent, I lean against the railing, loving the large display of shooting water and synchronized music.

“I remember being here with you,” I say about that afternoon. “And the pretzel.”

“We’ll figure something out, Shea,” Trace says and turns away from the fountain.

“I’m telling Kieran when I get home,” I say after I can’t take it anymore. “And I’m telling him about my fertility issue.”

“Oh my fucking God.” Trace shoves me behind him.

“What?” I cry out. “This solves nothing, we—”

“My parents are here.”

I freeze. “Yourparents? In Vegas? Now?” A memory flashes to him telling me how they love it here and come all the time.

He exhales, and his ribs contract. “Oh shite, they spotted me. Here they come.”

“What, what do we say?”

“About what?” He smooths his hair and checks his jacket. “You’re visiting Vegas with your sister-in-law, and I’m your bodyguard.”

Right. Only this doesn’t feel anything like that.

“Trace!” a woman with an Irish accent shrieks. “Is that you?”

“It’s me, mum.” Trace opens his arms, and a sweet, squat woman dives into them.

“I can’t believe it.” She looks at him then me. “Patrick, did you know he’d be here?”

“Had no idea.” Patrick Quinlan hugs his son.

He’s not as tall, but for sixty-something, he’s very handsome. Trace and Rhys are drop-dead gorgeous. So are his cousins. Those Quinlans have some good genes.

“And who’s this? A girlfriend?” his mother squeaks, taking me in.

“Mum, I’m in a suit. I’m working. This is Shea O’Rourke.”

“O’Rourke,” she says with a twinge of fear, or maybe it’s respect. “I heard your dad and your mum are back in Waterford.”

“Aye. They’re living at mymaimeó’sfarm now.” I spare Trace’s mum the sad news that it’sMa’s wish to die in Ireland. Don’t want to ruin her vacation. “It’s right on the outskirts.”

Near Dunbar.

His mum starts fanning herself. “This heat.”

“Let’s get you into the casino, Freye,” Patrick says, steering his mum toward one of the entrances.

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