Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(86)

Plus I couldn't shake the feeling it was time to a take a risk, and West Rykman was the risk worth taking.

After all, I was surrounded by risk takers whose chances had paid off. My parents, even Allie and Joe had only known each other a month before he proposed, and a year and a half later, they were married.

And it was Vegas. Sin City. Gambling central. If I couldn't do it here...

“Yo, Mia.” Beck snapped his fingers three times in front of my face and pulled me out of my thoughts. “He only left ten minutes ago. You can't be losing your mind already.”

I hit his hand away. “I'm pretty sure I don't have a mind left to lose.”

“You chose West over me. Of course you don't.”

I side-eyed him, but I was smiling. “That's it. That's what I'm figuring out—how I made the wrong choice. What was I thinking?”

He grinned and leaned over the table. “You're thinking you should have asked me to strip before you decided.”

“There it is. You nailed it. Why didn't I think of that?”

His deep laugh echoed through the empty office space above the club. “On a serious note, what's up?”

I huffed out a breath, put down the fliers I'd been attempting to sort, and turned to face him. “You'd tell me if I did something stupid, right?”

“Yes...” He leaned back, his black shirt creasing as he did.

“What if I move?”

He blinked at me, his long, girly eyelashes fluttering. “By move you mean...”

“Here. To Vegas.” I held my breath until my lungs burned. He stared at me, and I felt sick. “It's stupid, isn't it? It's only been two weeks and that's insane and why did you let me say it out loud?”

“What did he let you say out loud?” West walked back into the room, and I froze. “Are you speaking before you think again?”

Yep. Yep, I was.

“She's thinking about moving here.” Beck nodded toward me.

“Beck!” I hit his knee. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you said it first.”

My cheeks burned, and my eyes crept toward West. He was standing in the middle of the office, staring at me hotly, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

Yep. It was a stupid idea.

“Why?” he asked. Not meanly... Just... asked.

“Because it's really crazy, but it feels like it makes sense?”

“Are you asking me?” He fought a smile. “Because I'm not gonna tell you no.”

“Is it crazy?” I asked Beck.

He leaned forward and grabbed his mug of coffee. “Yeah. It's f*cking insane, Mia.”

That was reassuring.

“Then I'm gonna do it.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. “I'll move. Here.”

West smiled—no, grinned. Wide, bright, infectious. He took a few strides toward me and pulled me up against him, locking his arms around me. “Good choice. What about work?”

“I'll start my own company. And then you can hire me for The Landing Strip.”

Beck laughed. “I like how you think. You're hired with immediate effect.”

I smiled at him over my shoulder, laughing and falling against West. God—I was crazy. I had to have been. But... I felt free. Like this was the decision I needed to make all along, like Vegas was where I was meant to be.

“Then I just need to find an apartment.”

“No you don't.” West's tone was final. “You live with me.”

I leaned back. “What? No. I can't live with you.”

“She's right,” Beck agreed. “That's insane.”

West looked around me at him. “Fucking really? She's moving to a different state to be with me and I'm the insane one for telling her she's living with me?”

“You're right.” Beck got up then slapped him on the shoulder. “You're both f*cking insane. I'm going to call you a doctor.” He tugged on my hair before turning and disappearing into the adjoining kitchenette.

I dragged my eyes back to West. “It is a little insane.”

“I prefer the word chaos,” he said softly, taking my chin in his hand. “It's all we've ever been, angel. Beautiful chaos.”





SIX MONTHS LATER


Mia frowned as she looked around The Landing Strip. The last six months had been a whirlwind of her finishing up her clients at MM Marketing, moving to Vegas, and forming her own company. She'd spent just about every second working her tight little ass off to make it happen, and after taking on two small contracts under her company, O'Halloran PR, we'd finally gotten around to her coming to the female club and looking at it.

“Have you guys learned nothing this year?” She turned to me, her hands on her hips. Her fiery hair flew around her shoulders as she shook her head in despair. “Offers, West! Why are there no offers? Men like cheap booze too!”

Shit. I was feeling appropriately scolded. “This is Beck's lair. Not mine.”

“And? You own fifty percent of the building, which means you own fifty percent of the marketing.”

“So does he.” I felt like a child blaming him, but I had a point. He did own it, and Landing was his responsibility. It'd been that way since we bought the building and he decided to stop dancing. It made more sense.