Page 3 of Against the Odds

“No, I’m fine. Thanks for running interference.”

“Alright you two,” Kevin shouts while slapping Ian on the shoulder. His other hand holding my sister’s. “There’s plenty of time for flirting. Let’s get some sweets.”

Neither of us move right away. I’m thrown off by the flirting comment and can only assume Ian is annoyed his friend thinks we are anything more than two wingmen... errwingpersonsleft to our own devices.

“Ignore him. I wasn’t flirting.”

“Oh, of course not. I mean, why would you? That’s silly. I could go for some chocolate cake. Let’s go.”

I make it two steps before Ian grips my hand. “You’d know if I was flirting, Katy.”

Oh... well. I don’t know how to respond to that. But that’s good to know.

ChapterThree

I wouldn’t call myself conservative or even a traditional gal. I’ve had a one-night stand. Sure, I was a twenty-year-old college student and when we ran into each other weeks later we dated for six months, but it still counts. There’s nothing wrong with meeting a man and wanting to enjoy each other’s company for the evening.

Which is what Rachel has insisted for the last five minutes as we bicker in the bathroom of Kevin and Ian’s room. One of the bathrooms. I thought the suite we had was fancy. A bedroom with en suite and pullout bed with another bathroom seemed like luxury to me. This? The room has a name. It’s the King’s Suite. I know this because there is a gold plaque outside the door.

Ian’s assurances have been spot on. Kevin is nice with a great sense of humor. He’s kept the mood light while still showering Rachel with attention and kindness. She’s giggled like a schoolgirl and blushed with each public display of affection. For hours I’ve felt like the awkward older sister, keeping one eye on the handsome man who seems to be just as smitten with her. We found a place with a variety of desserts, including my much-needed chocolate cake. Unfortunately, half of Vegas seemed to have the same idea and there was no seating.

I was willing to stand and enjoy my baked goodness as the crowds moved around us. My companions were not. Initially, I balked at the idea of coming to the guys’ room. Every warning I’ve ever heard as a single woman buzzed through my mind. Rachel shot daggers my way as I protested, which did not go unnoticed by everyone. I was being a buzzkill. Who wants to be the one to ruin a good time? Not me.

So, here we are. Me standing with hands on my hips and Rachel with arms crossed across her chest. We’re in a stare off, and I’m losing. We played this game as kids and Rachel always won. She is freakishly capable of not blinking.

“Fine. But if at any time you feel uncomfortable or want to leave we will.”

Rolling her eyes, Rachel grips my arms. “Katy, Iwantto be here. I hope Kevin plans on a little one-on-one time if you get my drift.”

“Who says ‘drift’? Have you been watching old sitcoms in the middle of the night? And I don’t need to bear witness to said one-on-one time with my baby sister.”

Her face morphs to a look I’ve seen. From our mother. It’s one that may as well lead to her patting me on the head and tsking at my silliness. “Don’t judge. Insomnia is a thing. Ian seems nice and dear God is he hot.” She takes me by one hand and then the other and shakes my arms like those awful battle ropes at the gym. “Loosen up, Sis, There’s a hot guy in there who can’t keep his eyes off you. You know what they say about The King’s Suite? What happens in here, stays in here. A good orgasm might do you well.”

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. Taking my arms back, I laugh. “I have orgasms just fine on my own . . . wait, that didn’t come out right.”

“I think it came out exactly as intended, a slip. Okay on that note let’s get back out there.”

Giggling, Rachel flings the door open and flies out of the small room and to the living area where we left our dessert and the guys. Inhaling a deep breath, I release it slowly and remind myself this is just a fun night in Vegas. Nothing major. No big deal. Just have fun.

When I make it to the living room area, only Ian stands there. Confused, I scan the room and see no sign of Rachel or Kevin. Then a loud squeal, a growl, and a string of laughter comes from behind a closed door. My head turns quickly toward Ian who seems to be as horrified by what I can only assume is to come next.

“Uh, want to take these into my room? There’s a desk and sitting area. And we won’t have to hear...”

Just then my sister’s voice breaks through our conversation. “Oh Kevin.” It’s breathy and all I need to hear before rushing from the room frantically saying, “Sounds great, let’s go!”

* * *

My eyes are dry from forcing them to stay open. Ian and I have long finished our desserts. Sharing half of each—my chocolate cake and his slice of cheesecake with raspberry topping. Our conversation has flowed easily, neither of us touching on anything too personal. I’ve learned he also has a fondness for quiet nights instead of club hopping and, while not opposed to the idea, hasn’t read the Harry Potter books nor seen the movies.

“If I say this, do you promise not to stab me with your spork?” he asks between yawns.

“How can I promise that? Clearly you are about to say something I won’t like. Has my makeup has worn off and you can see the bags under my eyes? Or maybe I have food in my teeth and you can’t stomach looking at me any longer with it staring back at you?”

With the smile I’ve grown accustomed to seeing on his face in full effect, Ian shakes his head. Over the course of the evening, the first signs of facial hair have started forming. I won’t lie. It’s damn sexy. But I think it’s more the man and the way he relaxes me, knowing it’s okay to be myself.

“First of all, you don’t need makeup so I wouldn’t say anything. And, when I went in the bathroom earlier, I saw there was a raspberry seed in my teethyoudidn’t tell me about so turnabout is fair play on that one.”

On instinct, my hand flies to my mouth, finger running across my teeth. Ian laughs again and I glare back. Brat.

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