Page 3 of Nothing Stays in Vegas

CapeGirl: doing it. good,good, wan you.

Her fingers fumbled over the keys, but she was too close to care.

CDanielsRunner: I’m thrusting inside you now, touching you everywhere. I’m making you mine.

Moving in and out, she felt the rhythmic waves of her muscles contracting around her fingers.

CDanielsRunner: Harder, baby.

Harder, her thumb continued to circle her tight nub.

CapeGirl: Good, si gotddddvvvvvvvvvvv

CDanielsRunner: Faster, Lara.

Faster, she worked herself until she was gasping, pinching her eyes shut. She fell back against the bed, her hips bucking, muscles clenching, as she climaxed hard against her hand. Opening her eyes, she shot up, still throbbing through her core. She looked at the screen.

CDanielsRunner: That was great, baby. But I still can’t wait to get my hands on you. I want to see your face. Kiss your lips. I want to hold you. Three more days and you’re mine.

Chapter One

“What’s next, cuz? Is she going to ask you to step in for her on the wedding night too?”

Gilt rays of the afternoon Cape Cod sun slashed between white painted shutters and in through the beveled panes of the six-foot arched windows fronting Lara’s bedroom. She’d been back for two days, nestled in the cool embrace of her childhood home, and already she longed for the three thousand mile space cushion, solitude and cozy comfort afforded by her small apartment on the opposite coast.

Lara took a deep breath and leaned back against the stack of silk and embroidered pillows, shaking her head at her cousin’s insinuations. “Oh please, she had a pimple—and you know how Dette is. We look enough alike to pass for twins, so I took the picture with Adam for the paper. It was no big deal.” She stuffed a small round of tulle into the embossed, hand crafted, hexagonal box. Shoveled a scoop of Jordan almonds inside and slapped on a flower-topped lid. “That’s one hundred and six.”

At the foot of Lara’s bed, Elizabeth “Bitty” Sinclair, sat atop their grandmother’s hope chest, one black Capri-clad leg bent under her the other stretched down to the floor. “One hundred and seven. Have I mentioned how much I hate your sister for this?” she asked, shaking the favor at Lara before she dropped it into the deep plastic bin and walked over to the window.

Lara glanced over at Bitty, who smoothed her hands down her tightly fitted red sweater, and grimaced. This close to the rest of her neatly groomed, “together” relatives, she felt downright frumpy. How could their easy, classic style have skipped over her—and only her—so completely? When she’d selected her hip hugging denim jeans and flouncy pink peasant shirt that morning, she’d thought it was sexy, something that might catch Cal’s eye even before he knew it was her, but now…

Clearing her throat, she adjusted her bra and then gave up. “Cut her some slack, Bitty. She wanted the wedding of her dreams. With only two months to plan it, family got stuck with some of the work.”

“Family? Your parents didn’t even cut their trip to Mexico short. You know that’s got to be eating at Dette. They’d be here if it was your wedding.”

Lara shot her a sidelong look. “Don’t be that way. Dette’s sensitive about Mom and Dad being…absent. Your parents aren’t like that so you don’t know how it feels. Anyway, it’s all the more reason to give her a break this week. And, Mom and Dad will be here by Friday afternoon. They won’t miss the wedding on Saturday and that’s the important thing.”

“It’s Monday, Lara. Dette and Adam have everyone arriving at the estate today, but your parents—fine, whatever. Airport van’s pulling up. Looks like…” A door slammed below and the muffled sounds of masculine laughter filtered into the room. Bitty pursed her lips in appreciation and threw an impish glance over her shoulder at Lara, who sat working on number one hundred and eight. “…groomsmen.”

Another scoop of almonds, another lid.

It took all of Lara’s restraint not to jump up and press herself against the glass. She was going to meet him today. Her pulse raced and heat simmered at the surface of her skin. After weeks of not caring what he looked like, she was about to see his face for the first time. God, she hoped he liked what he saw in her.

Stealing a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she pulled her brown curls around one shoulder and finger picked out a few of the tangles. Maybe she should have tried some eyeliner or something. No, she probably would have ended up looking like a raccoon. Better to stick to what she knew. She pressed her lips together, evening out the tinted lip gloss she’d put on earlier. This was Lara, not too fancy. Not breathtaking, but pretty enough.

Damn, even in her own estimation, she could see the nervousness shining through her hazel eyes.

She shook out her shoulders, trying to relax, and checked again. It didn’t matter what Cal looked like, the man behind the words was funny, intelligent and was making it very hard for her to remain nonchalant about the arrival of a van full of groomsmen. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder. “Anyone worth a good flirt?”

Bitty let out a knowing laugh. “Listen to you…Little Miss Playing-It-Cool. Well, let’s see. Brown-hair looks cute, I’d rate him for two-inch pumps. Reddish-curls, nice butt, maybe three-inch sling backs, but this one… MmMmm. Blond-shock-of-just-a-little-disheveled… He’s four-inch stilettos all the way. If this is your best man… Oh, I hope this is your best man. I’m not even going to look at him. God, he’s a hunk. Last peek, I swear.”

Biting her lip, Lara pushed off the bed and stood behind her cousin. “Stop it with the ‘my best man’ business. It’s not like I own him.” Insecurity crept stealthily into her psyche. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Bitty know how excited she was about Cal. What if it wasn’t the same when they were together in person? “I mean really, I don’t know anything about him. Really.” She sounded pathetic, even to herself.

“Except you know he’s coming stag to the wedding.” Bitty shook her head, muttering. “And I’m not sure how you don’t know anything about the guy when you were on that laptop of yours for two hours last night chatting with him. Giggling, sighing—”

Lara went on her toes and tried to peek over Bitty’s shoulder, but bouncy blonde curls blocked her view.

Her cousin glanced back, her expression taunting.

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