way her head shot up and she stared at him, that wasn’t what she expected. He wasn’t sure why, but it stung.
“I’m not a teenager anymore. I know better than to run out on a woman and not even say good-bye. Not that I do the one-night thing all that often,” he added quickly when her brows drew together. “I just know it’s not what a man should do, and I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “Thank you. But obviously I didn’t chase you down here for an apology.”
Understatement of the century. “Right, yeah.” He took another drink. “Um, exactly how did you find me anyway? I know the Internet’s good and all, but—”
“Friend who works at the hotel.” She gave him a smile. “I wouldn’t know where to start with the Internet, but I do know someone at the front desk of the hotel. And you filled out a customer form before they gave you the key to the suite. It had your address on it.”
“Thought that stuff was private,” he grumbled, then saw how one brow raised. “Not that I’m not glad you found out. God, I keep shoving my foot in my mouth, don’t I?”
“I think I’ll forgive you for odd circumstances,” she said with a chuckle. Then she laughed a little harder, and he had a flashback to the casino. Skye smiling at him from across the blackjack table. Breathless behind some tree, in a dark corner while his hand crept up… Okay. That wasn’t helping the boner he was fighting off.
He was grateful for her understanding… and her happy attitude. He was wound too tight, like any sudden movement would cause him to snap. But Skye just smiled, slid her feet out of her sandals, and tucked them under her on the chair. God, she was adorable.
“So, um, where do we go from here?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” She took a sip of her own glass of lemonade and leaned forward to set it down on the table. Her shirt dipped forward, and he caught a glimpse of the tight tank under the sheer, gauzy fabric of her top.
Focus, man.
He cleared his throat, and hopefully his mind along with it. “Well, I probably don’t need to tell you that the night is a little blurry for me. Bits and pieces are there, but not the whole thing. So this is kind of a shock.” Yet another understatement.
“Yeah, I got that from Madison. It’s funny, though. You never acted drunk. At least, not until you blacked out,” she added with a sly smile. “Then it was kind of hard to miss.”
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He could feel the heat radiating from his skin. Pure, simple embarrassment mixed with a healthy dose of shame. “I don’t drink like that often… basically never. I just—”
She held up a hand. “I work in Vegas. Trust me, you don’t have to explain it. And because I can see you’re already struggling with this and you’re embarrassed, I believe that you don’t make a habit of this. So I’ll end the misery of wondering and just say that you were a gentleman and didn’t do anything obscene or obnoxious.” But she blushed as she said it.
What did that mean? When he arched a brow, she just sighed and looked at the fireplace while she mumbled, “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” he muttered. “But obviously I made a cake out of myself. How the hell did we get married if I can’t even remember it?”
“Short version is you proposed. I accepted. We took a limo to the courthouse and then to a small chapel off the strip, then limo back to the hotel where your suite was waiting. No driving involved, hardly any paperwork.” She grinned. “They like to make it easy for couples in Vegas. It’s kind of our thing, obviously.”
“Our thing.” What the hell did that mean? How could she be so nonchalant about the entire thing?
“Yeah, Vegas in general. Tourism, the casino, you know.” She waved a hand enthusiastically while she talked. She was a hand-talker, clearly. “People come in for just a short vacation, and
“I’m not a teenager anymore. I know better than to run out on a woman and not even say good-bye. Not that I do the one-night thing all that often,” he added quickly when her brows drew together. “I just know it’s not what a man should do, and I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “Thank you. But obviously I didn’t chase you down here for an apology.”
Understatement of the century. “Right, yeah.” He took another drink. “Um, exactly how did you find me anyway? I know the Internet’s good and all, but—”
“Friend who works at the hotel.” She gave him a smile. “I wouldn’t know where to start with the Internet, but I do know someone at the front desk of the hotel. And you filled out a customer form before they gave you the key to the suite. It had your address on it.”
“Thought that stuff was private,” he grumbled, then saw how one brow raised. “Not that I’m not glad you found out. God, I keep shoving my foot in my mouth, don’t I?”
“I think I’ll forgive you for odd circumstances,” she said with a chuckle. Then she laughed a little harder, and he had a flashback to the casino. Skye smiling at him from across the blackjack table. Breathless behind some tree, in a dark corner while his hand crept up… Okay. That wasn’t helping the boner he was fighting off.
He was grateful for her understanding… and her happy attitude. He was wound too tight, like any sudden movement would cause him to snap. But Skye just smiled, slid her feet out of her sandals, and tucked them under her on the chair. God, she was adorable.
“So, um, where do we go from here?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” She took a sip of her own glass of lemonade and leaned forward to set it down on the table. Her shirt dipped forward, and he caught a glimpse of the tight tank under the sheer, gauzy fabric of her top.
Focus, man.
He cleared his throat, and hopefully his mind along with it. “Well, I probably don’t need to tell you that the night is a little blurry for me. Bits and pieces are there, but not the whole thing. So this is kind of a shock.” Yet another understatement.
“Yeah, I got that from Madison. It’s funny, though. You never acted drunk. At least, not until you blacked out,” she added with a sly smile. “Then it was kind of hard to miss.”
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. He could feel the heat radiating from his skin. Pure, simple embarrassment mixed with a healthy dose of shame. “I don’t drink like that often… basically never. I just—”
She held up a hand. “I work in Vegas. Trust me, you don’t have to explain it. And because I can see you’re already struggling with this and you’re embarrassed, I believe that you don’t make a habit of this. So I’ll end the misery of wondering and just say that you were a gentleman and didn’t do anything obscene or obnoxious.” But she blushed as she said it.
What did that mean? When he arched a brow, she just sighed and looked at the fireplace while she mumbled, “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” he muttered. “But obviously I made a cake out of myself. How the hell did we get married if I can’t even remember it?”
“Short version is you proposed. I accepted. We took a limo to the courthouse and then to a small chapel off the strip, then limo back to the hotel where your suite was waiting. No driving involved, hardly any paperwork.” She grinned. “They like to make it easy for couples in Vegas. It’s kind of our thing, obviously.”
“Our thing.” What the hell did that mean? How could she be so nonchalant about the entire thing?
“Yeah, Vegas in general. Tourism, the casino, you know.” She waved a hand enthusiastically while she talked. She was a hand-talker, clearly. “People come in for just a short vacation, and
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