Page 23 of Vegas Baby

“How did you get lucky enough to marry me?”

Stifling a laugh, she buried her cheek deeper into the pillow. “Exactly.”

“Really?” he asked, turning his head to look at her, a lock of hair falling onto his forehead.

Raina rolled her eyes, grinning at his teasing question. “No. She asked me where you bought your shoes. She wants to get a pair for Patel. See, I told you someone would ask me something trivial.”

He returned his attention to the television. “You could have lied and told her some random store. But then again, we’re lying to these people enough.”

“Yes, but we’re doing it for a reason, not for spite.”

“Are you trying to argue it’s a good lie versus a bad lie? A lie is a lie.” A commercial came on and he flipped through the channels, the muscles of his forearm flexing in the flashing light of the television. He had nice hands, broad and slightly calloused, odd since he worked in an office and not with his hands.

Stop thinking about his hands or any other body part. They had an agreement and he’d lived up to his end. He played his part in public—like a pro—and in private, he hadn’t made any overt sexual advances towards her. At this moment, he seemed more interested in sports than her, a common occurrence in her world. Except for some crazy reason, it annoyed her tonight.

“Are you watching this for work or because you’re a sports nut?

“Both. I’ve been diversifying my agency. I have my eye on a shortstop out of Palm Springs, a high school kid showing a lot of promise. I’m heading there after I drop you off at the airport.”

The bed continued to fight her and she slowly slid the second pillow on her side from under her head. Positioning it in front of her chest, she hoped the downy softness would stop her forward motion once she’d fallen asleep. No need to tempt fate. “A shortstop? Not a pitcher or a catcher? Or pinch hitter? More money for you and for him.”

“Every position in a team matters. It’s not all about money and it’s not a him, it’s a her. Women’s fast pitch. She’s an Olympic hopeful and although she can’t go pro yet, female athletes are becoming more competitive.”

Her opinion of him raised a notch.

He retrieved the glass of water on his bedside table and took a drink before he settled the glass on his chest. “I can’t wait to get out of this desert, except I’ll be leaving this desert for another one in California.” He took another sip. “And if I keep drinking more water, I’ll be up all night pis…” he gave a brief glance out of the corner of his eye and amended, “in the bathroom.”

“I know, that’s why I’m resisting.” She closed her eyes, unable to fight the pull of sleep.

A low chime dinged and Howler shifted on the bed. “Crap, Veer wants us to join them for sunrise yoga tomorrow. Yoga.”

“From the sound of your comment, you’re not a big fan. Pilates and yoga have been my go-to exercises since, umm I started working out.” It was a lifestyle choice she’d adopted in boarding school after years of fighting a childhood obesity problem. The school had provided therapy and she’d been able to work out some of her resentments towards Brandi and Miller. Being sent away was the best thing either of her parents had ever done for her.

“Then you’d love Grams, she’s into everything holistic, not to mention the fact she makes the best cookies. My favorite are chocolate chips with walnuts but I’d take a peanut butter cookie. Damn, now I want a cookie.”

Had she known he’d become chatty at bedtime; she’d have waited to question him at night. No, not a good idea. If possible, he was even more appealing when he was relaxed. She kept her eyes closed, needing to block out the sight of him. “If you want a cookie, there’s always room service.”

“No, it won’t be as good. Do you mind if I finish watching the game?” he asked.

“No, I don’t mind.” She inhaled through her nose, sleep starting to embrace her. The drone of the TV ran like static to her once racing thoughts. She had to get through the next few days and keep to her goal, to have Veer sign to the team. Except something horrifying had started to happen deep in the back of her mind. She was developing a budding crush for Howler.

Howler!

Raina chided her fickle heart. It would disappear once she was out of his company and she’d be able to put this behind her. There was one thing stopping her.

The divorce.

Chapter Ten

Howler awoke to the faint sound of his alarm, a gentle cadence of wind chimes that reminded him of Grams’ farm. Time to get up for the morning torture session of yoga. Except the warm body curled next to him made it impossible. Sometime in the night, Raina migrated to his side of the bed. He spooned her lush body, chin resting on her shoulder. Arm around her waist, his hand palmed her breast while her own held his in place. If this were any other woman in his bed, he’d move his thumb and brush her nipple while kissing her neck, seducing her awake.

No, not any woman, his soon to be ex-wife.

The sound of the alarm increased and he tried to move his hand from beneath hers when she dug her nails into his skin.

Raina threw his hand off her and whipped her head around. “What the hell are you doing?”

He winced while inspecting the crescent shaped indentions that stung from her abuse. “Trying to take my hand back.”

---