Page 15 of Nothing Stays in Vegas

He was staring at her. “I’m not sure we ever talked about where you were from in the email. I’ve been assuming it was here for three weeks.”

God, was it even possible that they hadn’t discussed where they lived in all that time, all those discussions? Maybe. She was acting like a complete bitch and she should apologize. No man would take that kind of unwarranted abuse.

Cal rubbed his hands over his face. He was totally going to let her have it.

“You’re right. I’m out of line and I apologize.”

What the hell? “Really?”

One brow quirked at her in a sort of sexy, disarming kind of way. “Yeah, really. I shouldn’t be throwing Vegas in your face all the time. It’s easy to see it wasn’t the real you. Did you expect me to give you a hard time?”

“I don’t know you. I don’t know what to expect.”

Cal stared at her for a moment, his eyes turbulent like the water beyond. He took a step closer, invading her space to the point where she could feel the heat of his skin, the charged air sparking between them. “You know me.”

She swallowed hard at his proximity, at the memory of what happened last night. At the sense of gravity pulling her closer to him.

Breaking the spell, he looked at the sky and shook his head—amused, frustrated maybe. Finally, he smiled down at her and jutted his chin back toward the dining room. “But, for the sake of peace, how about we go back in and act like perfect strangers while we finish breakfast?”

Lara tried to curb the smile that fought its way free. There he was again, saying just the right thing. “That sounds good.”

Chapter Six

Cal headed down the hall toward the front door. Passing the living room, he saw Adam kicked back against the corner of the leather sectional with a MacBook in his lap. “Hey, man, you seen Lara? Dette told me to find her.”

Adam looked up from his laptop and nodded toward the window. “Dette sent her to the dock, it’s just around the bend down the beach. You’re supposed to go and help.”

Cal looked out the window at the darkening sky and choppy water. This might be perfect. With the weather starting to turn, the kids wouldn’t be after beach time. Maybe he’d be able to catch Lara alone.

“The dock, okay, got it.” He started to head for the back of the house, when he stopped and looked back into the living room. “What gives, how’d you get out of Dette detail?”

“I’m inept. My delicate bride won’t have me ‘fucking up’ any more of the arrangements.”

Cal’s lips pulled back in a grimace. It was either a brilliant play by Adam to get out of the tedious crap Dette had scheduled for everyone this week, or a sad start to a marriage. Regardless, right then he could have kissed Dette. She’d given him exactly what he wanted—a solid excuse to be with Lara.

Jogging from the house, Cal made it to the beach before he could see the dock and boathouse a hundred yards or so down the sand. He paused, a frown settling on his face at the sight of Lara hunched down on her hands and knees at the end of the wood planks. What the hell was she doing?

Suddenly, she hurled forward. Her arm flailed and caught the post at her side, stopping her from falling forward into the water. Cal took off at a run for the dock, kicking up sand as he went.

She must have seen him because she cried out for his help. “Hurry, please, I can’t hold on much longer. Grab me!”

Cal shot down the wood planks and, panting as he got to her, stalled for a fraction of a second, unsure of what the problem was or exactly how he should grab her. With Lara on her knees, bent over the end of the dock, one white-knuckled hand gripping the wood of the post and the other over the front of the dock, he didn’t have much of a choice so he set his hands on either side of her hips. “What, what is it?”

Lara shook her head. “Fucking Dette.”

“What? Dette’s under there?” he pulled Lara back, trying to get over her to help.

“No.” It came out as choked laughter. “We should be so lucky. Dette sent me down here to test out this damn floating sign that spells out their names—shit—I told her it was too rough…” she adjusted her grip, groaning as she pulled, “…with the bad weather blowing in and she started to scream. So here I am, with this damn sign half sinking, the netting stuck around the end of the dock. What are you doing down here?”

“Dette told me to come find you.”

Lara’s head snapped back, a look of confusion on her face. “She sent you? But—” Her grip slipped and she swore under her breath, making Cal smile.

She rocked back, letting out a long breath. “It was calmer a half hour ago, but I think Dette made this thing herself… The floatation supports fell off…. Washed away the second it hit the water. Crap!” She jerked forward again. “I’ve been trying to drag this…thing back in ever since.”

Looking over her shoulder at him, her resentment was evident. “I’ll never hear the end of it if I let the sign go and ‘ruin her wedding’. My fingers are about to be severed by the netting. It’s too heavy… I’m about to fall in. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let this bitch of a sign go. Pull me, so I don’t go over.”

He shook his head, processing the trivial nature of their crisis but, in reality, if he didn’t help, she would be going head first off the dock. One knee bent, he wrapped his arms around her waist and tried to pull her back against him. It should have been easy, she couldn’t be more than one hundred and twenty-five pounds, but as he pulled against her, he almost stumbled forward himself. “Jesus, it’s too heavy. Let it go.”

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