Defying the Odds (23 page)

Or she could lose everything.

But the pulse of Las Vegas didn’t recognize fear or failure.
Its
very air reeked of possibility. The impossible seemed effortless in Sin City. Insurmountable problems had simple solutions, and she fell for it as easily as all the other naive dreamers who showed up on the strip hoping for a better tomorrow.

“You could gamble if you want.”

She turned to Clay as he leaned on a pillar at the edge of the casino next to her. Melody smiled, finding him handsome even if the aftereffects of the fight showed on his face. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him cut and bruised. Melody was starting to think the evidence of battle was part of his mystique.

“That’s okay. I just like to watch.”

She turned back to the casino once more, watching two old ladies sit side by side at slot machines. One had a cigarette in her mouth; the other held a cup of coffee. Melody was pretty sure she’d seen both of them in the casino before she left this morning doing the exact same thing.

“Do you
wanna
play?” he asked, studying her curiously. “I’ll give you money to play. I’ll even play with you.”

“Do you gamble?” Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “I know you come here a lot.”

“Not usually, no.” He looked out to the casino with disinterest. “If
ya
wanted to, I would. It could be fun.”

“Well, I don’t think I’d like betting my own money.” Melody laced her arm through Clay’s and leaned into him. “But I like seeing ’
em
win. It’d be exciting to see someone win really big, like a million dollars or something. I’d love to watch that happen. That’d change their life.”

“You’d think. But it doesn’t.
Money’s just money.
It
don’t
change much ’bout who you are.”

“Shoot.” Melody laughed. “You’re just saying that ’cause you
ain’t
broke.”

Clay reached
out,
fingering a lock of her hair she wore down just because she could. He tugged on it playfully. “
You
ain’t
broke neither
; you know that, right?”

“Not today,” she
agreed,
her smile still bright because the slots of her life were still spinning. “Today’s perfect.”

Clay laughed and tilted his head away from the casino. “You ready to eat? They’re probably already sitting down.”

Melody winced. “Why didn’t you say something? I don’t want them to wait just for me.”

“You were having fun.” Clay pulled his arm free of hers only to drape it over her shoulders. “Jules said you’ve been peeking in at casinos all day.”

“Not all day,” Melody argued as they turned and walked away from the casino. “I bought this dress.”

Clay smirked as he eyed the new ensemble. “It’s sexy.”

Melody’s new dress was black with white polka dots that flared out from the waist, hanging loose and flowing down to her calves. She’d got heels to match, ones with black straps that wrapped up around her ankles. Her hair was too thick to wear down without something to push it back, so she’d bought a glittery headband to keep the thick locks off her face. Melody felt very pressed and fancy this evening. Three hundred dollars was more than she’d ever wanted to spend on an outfit, but Jules, armed with Clay’s credit card, insisted Melody needed to look good, and she was inclined to agree.

Melody looked behind them, making sure no one was listening before she told him teasingly, “I bought new underwear too.”

“Too bad.”

“Oh, they’re racy, though,” Melody said proudly. “I shocked myself.”

“Yeah?”
Clay’s eyebrows rose, and he tilted his head as if trying to look down her dress.
“How racy?”

Melody covered her shoulders with the sparkling black shawl she’d bought to combat the slight chill in the air. She laughed at Clay, who was now bending back, as if the outline of her ass in her new dress would give him a hint of what was beneath.

She looked around once more. It was starting to become a twitchy habit here. It seemed everywhere they went in Las Vegas, someone knew who Clay was. Even if the admirers didn’t walk up and say something, they still hid in corners gawking and whispering. Sure enough she spotted two young men pointing in their direction. They nudged each other, looking hesitant.

“You
wanna
blow off dinner with the dynamic duo and order room service instead?”

“What?” Melody glanced away from the young men to look up at Clay in surprise. “But aren’t they waiting for us?”

“So what?”
Clay asked with a scowl. “I’m still mad at both of ’
em
. Let ’
em
eat alone.”

“You should forgive them,” Melody said firmly, feeling new warmth in her heart for both Wyatt and Jules now that she knew they’d been there for Clay when no one else was. “They’re your family, and you
gotta
forgive family. I forgive my mama for siding with Justin.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t forgive my mama,” Clay said cynically. “And I sure as shit don’t forgive
yours
. You’re a better person than me ’cause I got half a mind to call her when we get back to Garnet and let her know what I think of her.”

Melody put a hand to her forehead, wondering if she should have let her secrets out to Clay, who took it all very personally. She was still humming from the aftermath of their last time together this morning before life reared its ugly head and forced them apart. Clay and Wyatt had dealt with promotional responsibilities while Melody spent the day with Jules shopping and exploring the wonder that was Las Vegas. Dinner was the first time she and Clay had really spent together all day, and she sure didn’t want to waste it talking about her mother.

“Calling my mama wouldn’t fix anything.”

“Probably not,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t do it, but I like to think ’bout it. I like to think ’bout nailing Justin to a beam in the Cellar and beating on him till he pops too.”

Melody pulled a face. “Ouch, Clay, that’s gruesome.”

“Sometimes I’m gruesome.” Clay shrugged unapologetically. “Sometimes I’m a real mean son of a bitch, and he might
wanna
take note of that if he plans on coming to Garnet and harassing you.”

“Powerhouse.”

Melody frowned, turning with Clay’s arm still heavy over her shoulder to see the two young men she’d spotted by the casino. They’d obviously followed them. Despite the boldness, they looked nervous as they fidgeted and met each other’s eyes as if proud of themselves for actually approaching Clay.

“That’s you, right?” the shorter of the two asked, looking at Clay critically. His gaze stopped on the taped-up wound on Clay’s cheek. “You’re Clay Powers.”

“Yup, last I checked.” Clay nodded. “Can I help you?”

“Well, um…” Their eyes met, the short one shifting from one foot to the other. “We were
sorta
wondering—”

“They want an autograph,” Melody finished because Clay seemed impatient, and the boys were looking jumpy. She pulled away from Clay to open her purse. “I stole a pen and pad from the hotel. Hold on.”

“Thanks,” said the taller, gangly one, who was barely twenty-one if not younger. He gave Clay a broad, excited smile. “We were at the fight last night. It was sick the way you took down the Gladiator in the third round like that.
Best fight ever
.”

“The Gladiator?”
Melody asked, still searching in her purse that really needed to be cleaned out.

“
Wellings
,” Clay supplied.

“Oh, right, ’cause he’s Italian. I get it.” Melody passed the pad to Clay and then looked in a side pocket, finding the pen. She handed it to Clay triumphantly. “I was starting to think my purse had eaten it.”

“I can’t believe you brought a pad and pen with you,” Clay said as he pulled the cap off the pen.

Melody grinned. “I knew you’d run into someone who’d need it.”

“Right.”
Clay turned to the young men, giving them a painful look that seemed to be his attempt at a publicity smile. “And what’re
y’all’s
names?”

The men gave him their names; they asked questions; Clay shook their hands. Melody found it all very exciting. Clay seemed so huge next to the other men, larger than life, with his black UFC hat pulled low over his eyes. He stood almost a head above both of them. His arms were massive, stretching the sleeves of his T-shirt; his chest was broad and powerful. She took for granted just how tall and fit he was. Garnet bred them broad and tall. At home he wasn’t quite so unique, but here he stood out.

When the men got all their questions answered and Clay complained about dinner reservations, they parted ways. Melody waved to them as they left. “Bye, it was nice meeting y’all.”

They waved back. The short one named Charlie called out, “Nice meeting you too!”

Melody turned back to Clay once they were out of earshot. “They were nice.”

“You think everyone’s nice,” Clay said with a laugh.

“That’s the reason I let you buy me this dress,” Melody announced as they came up on the restaurant. “I didn’t want you to look bad having some dumpy waitress on your arm with all these fans everywhere.”

Clay turned around, giving her a horrified look. “You’re not dumpy.”

“I see all those women wanting your attention,” Melody told him, feeling her cheeks heat. “I saw ’
em
last night. I saw ’
em
at that promotional thing y’all did this morning before Jules and I went shopping, and I see them all over this hotel.
Watching you, waiting for the right moment to get you alone.”

“I don’t like those women. I like you,” Clay told her, his eyes studying Melody with trepidation. “I never met anyone like you, Mel. First time I saw you I thought you were an angel, and I’m still not all that sure you’re not.”

“That’s sweet.” Melody smiled. “I think you’re
sorta
blind, ’cause some of those girls are pretty eye-catching, but still sweet.”

Clay shook his head, still looking horrified. “I would never—”

She reached up, squeezing his big hand in hers. “I know.”

Melody’s smile grew broader because she did know. She trusted Clay completely, which most people would think was naive, but she didn’t care what others thought. No one could understand the companionship they shared, and she sort of liked it that way.

Clay took a deep breath, his gaze still running over her face before he nodded, obviously believing her trust in him. “Okay.”

“Are you
gonna
buy me dinner or not?” she asked him teasingly. “I’m starving.”

“Absolutely,” Clay said, giving her a genuine grin rather than the pained grimace moonlighting as a smile he reserved for fans. “I’d love to buy you dinner.”

He didn’t know how hard it was for her to surrender and let him pay for things. Instinct would have her fighting tooth and nail against any man controlling her financially, but it was just dinner and a dress and he wasn’t Justin. Both her heart and her soul knew that even if her mind was screaming to beware. This was Clay, and like he said, everything was okay…at least in Vegas.

* * * *

Dinner was at one of those fancy steak houses most people wore suits and ties to.
Unless you were the UFC heavyweight champion of the world.
Then apparently a black T-shirt, worn-out jeans, and sneakers were acceptable.

Melody had never been so glad for the new dress.
If for no other reason than she and Jules being done up balanced out their dinner companions.
Clay and Wyatt didn’t appear to realize or care that by dressing
down,
they attracted even more attention than they would in suits. The dinner jackets the restaurant had loaned them and insisted they wear were now tossed over the backs of their chairs. Both of them seemed perfectly content to eat their eighty-dollar steaks and have everyone pointing and staring at them as they did so.

“Where’d Tony and Jasper go?” Melody asked curiously, thinking of Clay’s coaches, who’d been with Clay for all his promotional obligations. “They’ve been hanging on you all day. I thought they’d join us for dinner.”