Page 18 of Gamble
Luckily, Ryan chose that moment to hold out a key packet with a room number scribbled on it. Elijah reached to grab it and his Amex card. “Thanks so much for your help, Ryan. I will fill out a survey card to let the management team know how helpful you’ve been for my friend and me.”
That got a smile out of the employee who then turned his attention to the next person in line.
When Elijah turned to hand the key to the young woman, he found himself facing the jerk instead.
“Who the hell do you think you are, gramps?” he accused.
Giving the guy his best dismissive smile, he stepped to the side and reached around him to hand the key to the redhead, ignoring the asshole.
“Here you go. I hope you have a great weekend,” Elijah offered as she reached to take the key packet.
The other woman with them was already pulling at the red-head’s arm. “Come on, Reagan. Let’s go upstairs.”
Reagan. Nice name.
Their eyes met and for the briefest of moments, his breath hitched. Elijah shook his head, unsure what the feeling was that had his heart rate going up. Was she in trouble?
It’s none of your business, Keaton.
“Thank you,” she offered, a soft smile coming to her lips which chased away any fear of her needing more help.
“You’re most welcome,” he offered just as her friend started pulling her away.
Elijah watched the trio depart, heading in the general direction of the casino and guest elevators. Just as he was about to turn to grab his suitcase and follow, he saw Reagan glance back over her shoulder. His first thought was she was seeking him out, but why would she do that? As much as he hated it, the asshole had a point. He may not be old enough to earn the moniker gramps yet, but he sure as hell was old enough to be her father, and that told him all he needed to know.
Ten minutes later he was in his one-bedroom suite, enjoying the spectacular view. As the well-lit Las Vegas strip came to life and the sun fell lower in the sky, an unexpected wave of loneliness washed over him. As a long-time bachelor, he spent most of his non-work time alone, and he’d even say he liked it that way. But standing alone in an enormous suite in a city filled with thousands of revelers here to have fun, his solitude felt pathetic.
Christ, he’d be glad when he had this fucking birthday behind him. It was just a date. His age, just a number. He’d never let turning another year older bother him before. But then again, his body had started mocking him for his years as a stuntman, reminding him the dangerous profession he had loved may have brought him a lot of money, but his body would pay the price for those years for the rest of his life.
Stop being a pussy, Keaton. You’re in Vegas. You can deal with getting older next week. This weekend is about having fun.
And he’d get right on that as soon as he finished taking a nice long, hot shower with the massage head that might help loosen up his tight muscles.
CHAPTER SEVEN
REAGAN
She was a coward. Reagan silenced her phone, blocking out the incoming texts from Jeff and Jules bugging her to come join them in the casino. Even if she weren’t allergic to the heavy smoke that clung to the air in the huge casinos of Vegas, she still wouldn’t be joining them. The smells and noisy background sounds were awful enough, but she didn’t want to deal with Jeff’s angry rants about how out of line the kind man had been to help her during check-in. He’d berated Reagan the entire trip up the elevator until she’d been able to hide in her room.
At first, the solitude of her room was a pleasant respite from her busy day, and she’d enjoyed a brief nap before taking a nice soak in the oversized tub. But now, after hours of seclusion, she felt ridiculous… trapped in her room alone. This was not her idea of a romantic weekend away, and she planned on telling Tristan in no uncertain terms, just as soon as he answered his phone. Her anger with him amped up a notch with each unanswered text and phone call she sent to her wayward boyfriend.
“This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t feel trapped in my room,” she announced to the empty space.
Her first plan had been to order in room service so she wouldn’t have to leave, but after seeing the steep menu prices and even steeper delivery and tipping fees, it felt silly to order a tray of food when all she wanted to eat was the amazing ice cream they sold at the poolside bar and grill.
Glancing at her watch, she realized she had to make her move if she was going to go for ice cream. That outlet would close in thirty minutes.
Pushing up from the chair near the window, she shoved her feet into her sandals and grabbed her small cross-body purse, making sure to have the coveted room key tucked inside. She rushed out of the room before she could change her mind.
The ride to the lobby level was uneventful, but as soon as she left the elevator, she realized she was going to play a game of hide-and-seek to keep from bumping into Jeff and Jules. Moving cautiously, she scoped out her path through the maze of slot machines and other beeping games of chance, trying to avoid Tristan’s friends.
She was nearly across the room to the corridor that led to the restaurant when someone called her name. She had a split second to decide—turn and acknowledge she’d heard or speed up and try to slip away without them catching up to her?
It surprised her how easy it was to decide. Reagan sped up, rushing forward while glancing over her shoulder to see if they were following her. She caught a flash of Jeff’s Hawaiian resort shirt at the exact moment that she ran smack dab into something hard.
Before she could turn to see what, or who, she’d rammed into, a warm hand covered her mouth while an arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her sideways through a random door off the hallway.
Her heart pounded hard, fearful that she was being abducted. Luckily, she recognized the baritone voice whispering in her ear. “Shhh… I don’t think they saw you.”
