The Gambler (15 page)

“I walked out on a wedding, Blair. I think my jaded heart is safe.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Just send my stuff to Caesar’s Palace in care of Noah. He made the reservation.”

“When are you planning to come home?” Blair asked again.

Libby hesitated. “I don’t know.” She wouldn’t admit that part of her was tempted to take Noah up on his offer to move to Seattle and stay with him, albeit only temporarily. She could room with him until she found her own place. There was nothing for her in Kansas City anymore, and besides, Noah was right. The art scene was much better in the Pacific Northwest.

Maybe she needed a change. Maybe it was time to reinvent herself.

It was still early after they finished eating, so Noah suggested a change of plan. They pushed on to Amarillo, three hours away. This time the room had two queen beds. After Libby got dressed for bed, Noah tried to ignore the tantalizing fact that her pajama shorts and camisole left more parts of her exposed than covered.

When he came out of the bathroom, she was already in one of the beds, propped up on pillows, her hair spilled out around her.

She was gorgeous. He knew this, yet sometimes when he saw her, she took his breath away. But her earlier words—“Noah’s not husband material”—still rang in his head. He really needed to get Abrahams to sign the deal so he could get his job back and prove himself to Libby.

He climbed into bed. “You ready to go to sleep?”

“Yeah,” was her soft reply.

He flipped off the light and let his eyes adjust to the dark as he put his hands behind his head.

“Thank you.” Her words were so quiet, he almost missed them.

He laughed. “For taking you to see a hairball? Most women would have taken off running.”

“Just goes to show how much you really know me.”

And he
did
know her. He knew that she liked her coffee with several tablespoons of hazelnut creamer. And that she hated to wear socks, even in the winter. That she sucked at parallel parking and had accrued a whopping seven unpaid parking tickets. He knew she often got so absorbed in a photography project, she’d go all day without eating. But when she did eat, she didn’t pick around her food—she had a healthy appetite. He knew she had a kind and loving heart and that she’d do anything for her friends.

And he knew that he loved her.

He expected to be more surprised by the revelation, but perhaps he’d been warming up to it since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. A part of him had guessed at the truth for months. The real question was how he could make her see that they were meant for each other.

“It was a perfect day. I don’t think anyone else would have guessed what I truly needed today. So, yes, a giant hairball and world record egg were perfect. One day, when you finally decide to settle down, you’ll make some woman very happy.”

“What about you?” he asked, deciding to go for it. His pulse quickened and he forced his breathing to remain steady, every sound amplified in the dark.

She released a soft chuckle. “I think maybe it’s time for me to reexamine my life.”

He mentally kicked himself. Obviously, he’d posed the question the wrong way. “Like what?”

“I’ve been thinking about your offer.” She rolled onto her side to face him, propping her head on her upraised hand. He could see her profile in the light filtering through the cracks of the draperies. It reminded him of her photography project and he suddenly wished he had a camera to preserve this moment. But he knew he’d never capture it the same way she would.

“Oh?” What was she talking about? He couldn’t remember making any offer. “And what did you decide?” he asked, hoping her answer would jog his memory.

“I think I want to move to Seattle and stay with you.”

Blood rushed to his head as he fought his emotions. Could it really be that easy?

“It wouldn’t be for long,” she added.

What? Then he remembered how he’d posed the offer. He’d suggested that she move in as his roommate, not his partner. He struggled to form a response, finally settling on, “You can stay as long as you want, Lib.” Stupid. That was stupid.

She laid back down on her back. “I know you’d let me stay as long as I want, but you and I both know that wouldn’t work long term. And your future girlfriends wouldn’t appreciate me living there. Is that what happened with Donna? I noticed you two were together until right before my wedding.”

Should he tell her the truth? Was it time to lay his heart on the line?

“Besides,” she continued. “I’ve decided turning thirty alone is a good thing. I think I should give up men for the year and work on my project. If I’m in Seattle it will be easier to use you as my model.”

“Alone?” he forced out. God, karma sucked. He knew he deserved this ironic twist, but it didn’t mean he was any less horrified.

“Well, I won’t be
totally
alone. I’ll have you.”

But not in the way he wanted.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“About you moving to Seattle?”

“Well . . . yeah. All of it.”

What should he say? “I think moving to Seattle is a fan-freaking-tastic idea. You know I’ll help you any way I can. And you don’t have to hurry to find a place. You just said you don’t have enough money for the security deposit for a new place in Kansas City. The cost of living is higher in Seattle.”

“That’s the part that concerns me. I’ll be starting from scratch with my clients. But I can supplement my income with a part-time job to save for a deposit.” She sighed with disappointment. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.”

“No, it’s a great idea. But you should just focus on moving to Seattle and settling in with me. Then you can work on your project and build your client list without the stress of making ends meet. There’s no need for you to hurry to move out.”

“You have a one-bedroom apartment, Noah,” she said skeptically. “That will never work long term.”

“I’ve been thinking about moving,” he lied. “The real estate market is improving, so it makes sense for me to invest in a bigger place. You could have the second bedroom and stay with me until you’re more established.”

“What about Tortoise?”

“I’ve been thinking about a house.” Another lie, but he felt no guilt. He’d do whatever it took to get her to agree. “Then Tortoise would have a yard. We could take him for walks in the neighborhood. Besides, I miss the rambunctious guy.”

She was quiet for several long seconds. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” He was more sure about them than he’d ever been about anything in his life. He’d wait for her. A year felt like an eternity, but if she wanted a year, he’d give it to her. Libby St. Clair was worth waiting for.

She was silent again. “This seems so spontaneous, but it feels right.”

“To me too.” She had no idea.

She was quiet again and Noah soon heard the steady rhythm of her breathing.

He lay awake for another hour, repeatedly checking his phone for another message from Tiffany. He didn’t know much about Abrahams’s plans in Vegas other than he was attending a trade convention that began Tuesday at Caesar’s Palace and he and Tiffany would arrive tomorrow afternoon. But he did know that Abrahams hadn’t yet signed a contract with the other engineering firm, which meant Noah still had time. But when he pressed Tiffany for details about his competition, she remained vague and made comments about how excited she was to see him in Las Vegas.

This was bound to get complicated.

The next morning Noah woke before Libby, a rare occurrence he attributed to all the uncertainties in his life. For a man used to coasting through life, he suddenly had quite a few things to worry about.

The top item on his list lay on her side, facing him. The covers had slipped down and her skimpy pajama top had shifted while she slept, exposing a generous amount of her breasts.

A jolt shot straight to his groin and he suppressed a low groan. God, he wanted her, and the urge to slip into bed with her was so strong he had to clench his teeth. With women, Noah was used to acting on urges, so this new restraint chafed. His surging hormones insisted on seducing and screwing her, but his heart wanted more. When his head finally chimed in, it told him his heart was right. Libby had an underlying distrust of men, even if she would never admit it. She
expected
men to screw her and leave her. He had to prove he wanted more.

He wasn’t sure how to effectively do that other than to continue to be her friend. But then he risked that she would never see him any other way.

“You’re awake?” Her voice was heavy with sleep, and the husky sound of it stirred him even more. “How late is it?”

He glanced at his phone. “It’s around six.”

“Six? How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”

She stared at him for several seconds with an intensity that made him want to squirm, but just when he was about to break and ask her what she was thinking, she sat up, leaning over her crossed legs.

“I suppose you have a plan for today,” she teased.

“Of course.”

“More world record sites?”

“Only time will tell.”

She swung her long legs out from under the covers and stood. Her pajama shorts had been pushed up to the crease where her ass met her thighs. Of course, he knew he was only torturing himself with something he couldn’t yet have—but his eyes remained glued to that long expanse of bare skin, his mind drifting to dangerous territory. He imagined those long sexy legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged deep inside her. His hand in her thick dark hair while he kissed her—

“Noah.”

He blinked, only then realizing she’d said something. “What?”

A grin spread across her face. “Where’d you go just now? Thinking about our itinerary?”

If only
that
were on their itinerary. “Busy day. A lot to think about.”

They were ready to get on the road within less than half an hour. His Facebook alert went off while he was loading his bag in the trunk, and he saw Tiffany had sent him a message.

He’s meeting Eric tomorrow night for drinks.

Shit. He hoped that didn’t mean what he thought it did.
Eric?

The other firm.

He had to get there sooner. He had to see Scott Abrahams before he met with the competition.

When they were on I-40 headed west, Noah cast a surreptitious glance at Libby. Many of the women he knew took an hour or more to get ready, but Libby could be up and out the door in thirty minutes, looking more gorgeous than all of those women put together. Today she wore her hair up in a high ponytail. She had on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, which made her dark eyes more pronounced than usual.

“I’d like to try to get to Vegas tonight,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Which means we can’t stop as much today.”

“Oh,” she said with a frown. “Sure.”

Dammit. The sooner he got to Vegas, the sooner he could try to win back Abrahams, but in the scheme of things what was one day? For the business, it could mean everything. Still . . .

“You know what?” he said with a shrug. “Screw it. We’ll just take our time.”

She turned to him with her dazzling smile. “How about you pick a couple of places to stop, and we’ll still plan on making it to Vegas by tonight. How long is the drive?”

He grimaced. “Thirteen hours. Is that too long for you to do in one day?”

She laughed and turned back to face the road. “No. Once a guy I was with drove us from coast to coast in three days. I can handle being in the car.”

Libby had talked about the previous men in her life before, and hell, he’d hung around with her and Mitch plenty of times before the wedding, so the stab of jealousy that seized his gut took him by surprise. He didn’t like the idea of her being with anyone else. “Did you make a lot of stops?”

She laughed again. “If you’re asking if Barry stopped so I could see giant eggs and hairballs . . . no.”

“Barry?” He couldn’t stop the derision from leaking into his voice.

“He was a surfer. Sun-bleached hair. Washboard abs. His legs . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“You remember his name?”

His tone caught her attention. “What’s
that
supposed to mean?”

He forced himself to take a breath and chill the fuck out. Why was he this jealous of some guy who’d obviously meant nothing to her? “Nothing. Sorry. I haven’t had enough coffee.”

She frowned and shifted in her seat. “I flew out to L.A. to meet a friend. I met him on the beach, and the next thing I knew, I was on this cross-country trip with him and his friends, their surfboards strapped to the top of their van.”

“Van?” He forced himself to laugh.

“A regular Scooby-Doo adventure minus the ghost mystery.”

“What about the mask disguise?” he asked, teasing.

“Oh, there was a mask.”

He wanted to ask her more, but her own tone had changed.

“Let’s just say it was one more hard lesson learned.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What lesson was that?”

“That most men only want one thing from me. They see my boobs and my mother’s Colombian ancestry and . . . Let’s just say I’d always suspected as much, but that trip confirmed it.”