That First Kiss (23 page)
Despite what her body and clearly addled brain wanted, it was obvious that waiting for a guy like Tate to come around, hoping that he might change his playboy ways for her—or anyone—was about as likely as Hugh Hefner settling down with just one wife. It wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
This time, Piper decided she had nothing to lose. Tom was a good guy and she’d had enough of bad boys to last her a lifetime. It only ended in heartbreak and staggering mental health bills. It was time to make a smart decision for once, time to break the old good-girls-want-bad-boys idiom, and grab hold of something that could make her happy and not send her racing back to her bedroom at the end of the day to cry over a tub of ice cream and digging into her emergency stash of chocolate bars.
Rising onto her tiptoes, Piper met Tom halfway and returned his kiss. Like the first time, she didn’t experience the sparks of electricity or the flooding of rampant hormones in her loins, but she felt the warmth of companionship. Of a promise that went beyond a roll in the sack. It might never go beyond friendship, or it might turn into a mutual respect and caring for one another that would translate into love somewhere down the line. She could be happy with that, she thought as she set herself back on her heels.
“What would you say if I asked you to come out with me tonight? We could get something to eat, roll some dice, maybe.”
Piper bit her lip, contemplating his offer. She’d never been to Vegas before, and it would be a waste not to explore all it had to offer. She sucked in a fortifying breath and grinned. “I would say it sounds amazing.”
27
As days went, Tate’s was rounding out to be a pretty crappy one.
Beginning with a standoff with his almost brother-in-law and former best friend, followed up by an encounter with his ex and somehow letting himself get suckered into going out with her and said ex best friend, and finally catching Piper sucking face with the cook as he stepped off the elevator and rounded the corner to his room.
He’d been on his way to apologize and get her away from Mr. Touchy Feely when he was sidelined by his ex. By the time they finished talking and he was on his way back into the convention, she was boarding the elevator. He wasn’t exactly happy to see her riding with the cook, which was putting it mildly. So he jumped on the next available car. By the time he arrived on
their floor, it was too late.
Maybe he had no right being angry with her. After all, he had left her lying in bed alone, so to say she was most likely pissed at him was an understatement. She was probably entertaining thoughts of chopping off his balls the next time they saw each other. As far as he was concerned, turnabout is fair play and she had it coming after doing much the same to him not so long ago. But, as his mother and sisters taught him growing up, two wrongs don’t make a right and a woman scorned is nothing to screw around with. In other words, he was in trouble.
Is that why she decided to make it with the help? Was she trying to get back at him, show him that she could get any man she wanted? Well, he had news for her. He already knew that. The woman was gorgeous and if forced to admit it, he might even say she was easy to get along with. Any man would be lucky to have her at his side.
So why was he hesitating?
He knew he should break them up, interrupt their little tryst with a fine how do you do, but he was rooted to the spot, caught somewhere between a fit of anger and despair. So he stood there, watching as the two made out in the middle of the hall and blocking him from accessing his room. He had two choices: go through them or wait it out. He chose the latter. Nobody was forcing him to watch, but that’s exactly what he did. He watched until his stomach cramped and his fingers ached from squeezing them into fists for so long.
In the end, his refusal to look away paid off in an unexpected way. Before that smarmy bastard Tom released her from his hairy paws, Tate overheard his request to take her out on the town, and she accepted. The wheels started turning and soon a plan began to take shape.
Once Piper closed herself away in her room, Tate slunk back a few paces, pulled himself together, then set off toward his room as if he hadn’t just been standing there, eavesdropping on a very private public affair.
He managed to direct a tight smile as the cook passed by. “Mr. Revado.”
“Mr. Larson,” the cook returned coolly.
Locked inside his own room, Tate combed over the details of his plans for that evening and for the first time since their breakup, he was glad Casey hadn’t left him alone.
*****
Nervous excitement coursed through her veins as Piper stepped off the elevator. After Tom left her earlier that evening to finish wrapping up downstairs, she’d engaged in a much-needed pep talk with herself in the mirror.
It was silly to
feel nervous because, come on, it was Tom. He was possibly the most laid back guy she knew. She flat-out refused to feel guilty either. It was okay to have fun and she was a free bird. She could be with whomever she wanted and she didn’t have to answer to anyone, least of all her boss. Yes, he was her boss and she would do well to remember that.
Not that it seemed to make much of a difference before when she was jumping into bed with him. Sex with Tate was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Where it had always been a part of a relationship, something that progressed over time, with Tate it was always an explosion. It blazed out of control in what she could only describe as a fierce flooding of emotions that overtook her sensibilities, until she was nothing more than a mindless, pleasure-seeking machine.
She could hardly keep from rolling her eyes at the thought of how pathetic she was to constantly fall for the man when she knew from experience what a terrible idea it was. Thank goodness for Tom saving her tonight. Had he simply let her go, she would probably be stuffing her face with every junk food she could get her hands on and crying into her phone about how unfair life was. Instead, she was going out for a night on the town with dinner and drinks and fun, and she would be experiencing it all with the handsome and charming Thomas Revado.
Dressed in a slinky, purple, off-the-shoulder number and heels that should be considered a deadly weapon, Piper relished the feeling of weightlessness as she walked side by side with Tom through the lobby. And boy did he look good.
He was a vision in black. His midnight hair was slicked back with just a hint of wave showing where the ends touched the collar of his black button down. He’d tucked the shirt into a pair of black dress pants and finished off the look with a black silk tie with contrasting shiny black stripes and a nice pair of, you guessed it, black shoes.
“You look nice,” she commented as they strode past the check-in counter. She noticed a few eyes turning his way and smiled inwardly at her luck.
“Thank you. And may I say that you look ravishing?” Tom had already made a point of telling her how amazing she looked, but it never hurt to hear it again.
“You may,” she said coyly, remembering how fun it was to openly flirt with another human being. With Tate everything was so secretive. This definitely was a nice change of pace. It would be a lie if she said that she had completely forgotten about Tate the moment she and Tom made their plans. In fact, her mind was spinning with thoughts of him, wondering what he was doing at this very moment, who he was with and what he would do if he knew she was heading out on a date with another man. But then it didn’t really matter because he only played with women. He didn’t keep them, and that’s all she was. A play thing. She’d held his attention for a short time, but now that time had passed and she needed to expunge any idea to the contrary.
Hand in hand, Piper let Tom lead the way outside where he assured her a cab awaited them. The moment the doors whisked open, she felt the cold slap of reality hit her square in the face.
Standing alongside the tall, well put together Mr. Bradford and the same waifish woman she’d spotted with him earlier, was Tate. Even under the glaring lights illuminating the portico and everything within a twenty-foot radius, he looked incredible. For a moment, her eyes clung to the soft taupe cotton hugging his butt and the way the knit blue sweater matching the exact shade of his eyes in moments of great emotion wrapped around his broad shoulders.
His back was to her, but the other pair, the ones that looked as if they could pass as brother and sister, which was a tad disconcerting, was facing her and so when she walked out, they noticed almost immediately. What should have been a passing glance quickly turned into a curious once-over when they noticed her preoccupation. Their attention caught Tate’s and he twisted around to see what they were looking at.
If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t let on. Piper, on the other hand, felt the familiar jolt of being under his watchful eye envelope her. His blue eyes held her in an unblinking stare that seemed to penetrate all the way to her core. Her legs wobbled slightly as Tom pulled her to a stop at the edge of the drive to await their cab. Staring out into the night, Piper focused all of her energy on locating the right car in a sea of them as they coasted up the drive to pick up and release guests. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t completely block out Tate’s lingering gaze or his voice as he spoke with his friends.
As they waited for what seemed like an inordinate amount of time, Piper managed to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation. They were going out for a bite to eat, maybe a club. The woman’s name was Cas. Was that short for Cassandra? She didn’t know. Gambling was definitely on the table for the night’s events, and Tate was planning to get wasted.
By the time their car arrived, Piper was eager to get the hell out of there. Tom opened the door for her and she dove in. As the cab pulled away, she couldn’t help herself. She looked back, and got caught in the steely trap of Tate Larson’s unyielding eyes.
*****
For all the turmoil she was in on the way
there, Piper’s troubling thoughts fled her completely the moment they walked into the MGM. Opulent wasn’t an adequate descriptor for the emerald building or it rich designs. Towering ceilings, television screen lined walls featuring all manner of sports, including horse racing and golf. And a noise level set at deafening.
Everywhere, people shouted, games pinged, change clanged, until it all blended together to create a cacophony of noise that easily surpassed some of the clubs she frequented back home.
As Piper’s virgin eyes struggled to take it all in, Tom guided her across the floor with one strong arm wrapped securely around her waist.
“I was thinking we would start with dinner,” he said, bending closer so she could hear him. “What’s your favorite food?”
Piper felt her stomach grumble as she thought over his question. “I’ll do anything except sushi.” She shuddered at the thought of eating raw fish. She didn’t care how thin they sliced it, how clean their hands were, or how much everyone else in the world swore by it, raw meat of any kind did not sound the least bit appetizing or sanitary.
“No problem. I’m not a big fan of the stuff either.” Tom continued to move them through the throng while he came up with a game plan. “How about Mexican?”
“Like Taco Bell Mexican or traditional Mexico Mexican?”
The look Tom passed her was memorable. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that and assume what you meant to say was ‘Hell yes, I love Mexican!’”
Piper giggled. “Well, what can I say to that?” The question was meant to be a rhetorical one, but one look from Tom said it all. “Hell yes, I love Mexican!” she shouted enthusiastically.
His face split into a toothy grin. “Then Mexican ye shall have.”
The restaurant he took her to was located inside the massive MGM grounds and was decked out in the bright, lively colors one might expect to find in a club, yet it somehow managed to come off as warm and inviting. Orange walls and pink booths lined the perimeter and small round tables surrounded by red art deco inspired plastic chairs decorated the floors. A bar sprawled off to one side and showcased a glowing blue wall of—what she assumed to be—very expensive liquor. Everything was clean lines and simple design, right down to the white dinnerware and black cotton napkins.
Piper loved it.
They were seated by a very pleasant woman who looked to be in her early to late thirties with brown hair drawn back into a softly waving ponytail and makeup that made Piper feel plain in comparison.
They each ordered tequila and a side of water to start.
“To a great evening,” Tom said, holding up his glass in a toast.
“To a great evening,” Piper echoed, clinking her glass with his and tossing back the shot. Tom held up his hand to signal another round. By the time dinner arrived on the table, Piper was feeling a little tipsy. They were having fun, tossing around jokes and comparing childhoods just like she did with the girls. Like old friends.
“So where did you grow up?” Tom asked, cutting a cube of steak and offering it to her.
Leaning forward, Piper didn’t think twice about wrapping her lips around his fork and accepting the juicy hunk of meat. When they were first presented with the menu, neither of them could decide what to choose, so they agreed to both pick something that sounded good and share it. He got the Oaxaca carne asada, which was just a fancy way of saying spicy steak, and she got the chicken enchiladas. Both turned out to be delicious.
Taking a big swig of water to wash away some of the burn, Piper began assembling another wrap. “In a little town in Alabama.” She shrugged. “It’s not much to write home about.”
