Loving the Odds (What Happens in Vegas) by Stefanie London Page B

and swallowed the doubts. Freaking out about a kiss wouldn’t solve anything and she was under no obligation to care about what Lance thought—of her kissing ability or anything else. Her stomach grumbled in response.
    He handed her a plate and let her have first pick of the food while he pulled a half-bottle of wine from the fridge. “Would you like some wine?”
    “That’s going to cost a fortune. Did you know that alcohol is sometimes marked up over three hundred and fifty percent in hotel minibars compared to what you would pay in a store?” She selected a slider with chicken and bacon in it and put it on her plate. “Now a lot of hotels are getting rid of minibars because of the high instances of theft.”
    He raised a brow. “So was that a yes on the wine?”
    “Please. I love wine.”
    He chuckled as he opened the bottle and poured two glasses. “I’m glad we ran into each other.”
    “Really?” She paused as her hand hovered over the desserts. Okay, so maybe he didn’t think she was a terrible kisser.
    “It’s certainly made the convention more interesting. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job but things at the office have been a little…” He tilted his head as if considering the best option.
    “Awkward?”
    “I was going to say Game of Thrones .” He carried the wine glasses over to the small coffee table by the window. “I feel like I’m Jon Snow when—”
    “No spoilers! I’m not up to date.” She took one of the two armchairs—boldly patterned with purple, green, and white diamonds—and balanced her plate in her lap. “Seriously, you try to have a normal conversation and then wham! someone spoils you. Totally uncool.”
    “How are you not caught up?” The clacking of plates moving sounded behind her and he reappeared a moment later with his meal.
    “I work late.” Her teeth sank into the soft bun of the slider and the rich flavors burst in her mouth.
    “You must have some down time. It’s only on once a week.”
    “I’m at the office most nights until after eight-thirty. Then, by the time I get home and think about eating something for dinner, I’m too tired for TV.” She reached for her wine glass. “And on the weekends I’m trying to do all the stuff I didn’t have time do during the week, like laundry, vacuuming, paying bills.”
    God, could her life sound any more pathetic? She’d basically admitted to Lance that she was a reclusive cat lady minus the cats. Maybe this was why she couldn’t seem to hold down a steady relationship. It wasn’t only Julian who’d given up on her. She’d had two serious boyfriends before him and she’d been the dumpee every single time.
    “Then you throw all that aside to come to Vegas on a whim?”
    “It wasn’t a whim. I figured that the only way I would get the watch back would be if I caught Julian by surprise. It was a risk, but not a whim.” She sipped her wine. “I weighed the pro and cons. I made a budget and planned how to get here.”
    “You should try following a whim some time.” His eyes shifted to gray in the room’s dim lighting. Like the color of the sky right before a storm rolled in. “You might have fun.”
    “I don’t think so.” She took another bite of her slider and chewed. “I like to know that if things go wrong, I have a plan B and you can’t have that if you don’t have a plan A.”
    “You’ll miss out on some amazing opportunities,” he warned, taking a sip of his wine.
    She wondered how it would taste on his lips, mingling with his unique flavor. Would his kiss be cold, chilled by the wine? Or would he be hot, burning up the alcohol and leaving only the sweet taste of grapes?
    What would have happened if they weren’t interrupted?
    A pulsing heat swept through her. She couldn’t visualize what they would look like together, since her experience was limited to dark rooms. But her body ached where she imagined his hands. His lips.
    She may not be able to see it in her mind, but she could