Lady Luck (Colorado Mountain #3)(21)

It was my turn to stare at him and I did this trying to come to terms with the fact that he was sage.

Then I told him. “I think I’m done sharing.”

To that, he muttered, “I bet.”

And to that, I replied, “Your turn.”

He jerked up his chin and then stated immediately, “I’m thirty-six. Never been married. I’m a licensed automotive mechanic… or I was. My Dad’s alive, a drunk and an ass**le. My Mom’s alive and a bitch ‘cause her husband’s a drunk. Or maybe he’s a drunk because she’s a bitch. Whatever, they define dysfunction and I been livin’ with that shit since I had memories. My Dad’s parents hated my Mom and died doin’ it. They had reason. My Mom’s parents returned the favor with my Dad but their reasons, in the beginning, were different and total bullshit. They’re alive and I had not one thing to do with them when I was a kid, their choice, and not when I grew up either and that choice was mine. I got a younger brother who’s a pain in everyone’s ass. He’s thirty-three and been married four times, got five kids and my guess, he marries women and makes babies ‘cause he gets off on bein’ a pain in the ass and wants to spread that shit around far’s he can. Good news is, he moved to Los Angeles and that proved far enough away, his talent with being a pain in the ass didn’t reach. I grew up in Carnal, Colorado and I just got done doin’ a nickel for a crime I didn’t commit in a state I never stepped foot in until I was extradited there to stand trial.”

Then he stopped talking.

I waited.

He shared no more.

Then I asked, “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I shared more than you,” I pointed out.

“How you figure that?”

“Okay, I didn’t share more but mine was more personal and included me coming to terms with something I’ve been avoiding coming to terms with for nearly twenty years. Those terms are uneasy terms and I’m still processing but still. You shared a lot and some of it was big, as in way big, but there was no detail and hence that’s not it.”

“Said give and take, didn’t say it would be equal. You picked, I picked. That’s fair.”

It was not.

And because it wasn’t, I asked, “You didn’t commit the crime you served time for?”

“Nope.”

“What happened?”

His eyes moved directly to the game.

“Ty,” I called and his eyes came back to me. “What happened? How could you –?”

“What’d I say?” he cut me off to ask.

“What?”

“What’d I say?” he repeated.

“About what?”

He held my eyes. Then, low and more rumbling than normal, he stated, “That’s it.”

And that, obviously, was it.

“Next time we play this game, you get to go first,” I declared and then watched with intense fascination as his lips curved up the minutest bit.

Then they uncurved and he muttered, “That’s fair too.”

Then his head turned to the TV.

I got off the bed and went to the champagne.

* * * * *

Ty

Walker’s eyes moved from the TV to Lexie.

She was curled on her side facing him, hands under her cheek, knees tucked nearly to her middle, still wearing her classy but sexy pink dress but she’d finally taken off the classy but sexy shoes. Her eyes were closed. She was out.

He studied her thinking she was probably the only woman he’d ever known in his vast experience of women who could pull off classy and sexy while being married by Liberace.

Actually, truth of it was, she was the only woman he’d ever known who could pull off classy and sexy at all.

Then he studied her thinking that Ronnie Rodriguez was one serious dumb f**k and this was not evidenced by the fact that he lost the sweet life God saw fit to grant him through providing him with immense talent on a basketball court. But instead, it was evidenced by the fact that the classy, sexy pu**y lying asleep at his side in a king-size bed in Vegas was lying asleep at his side in a king-size bed in Vegas and not curled into a living, breathing Ronnie Rodriguez who didn’t spend every ounce of energy earning the privilege of having the classy, sexy pu**y right then lying asleep at Ty Walker’s side.

On that thought, he moved off the bed, went to the table and grabbed the tray on which Lexie had stacked their used dishes. While walking to the door, something caught his attention, his head turned; he looked into the bathroom and stopped.

Her bouquet was in the sink resting in a couple inches of water.

Seeing it, he balanced the tray on one hand, felt his back pocket, finding the keycard still there, he walked out the door. He set the tray on the floor by the door and scanned the hall. Then he walked down it. At the end, he looked right and saw it on a narrow table between the elevators. He went to the vase with the fake flowers on top of the table, yanked out the flowers, put them on the table and walked back to their room, putting out the do not disturb sign.

In the bathroom, he pulled the bouquet out of the sink, let out the water, used a glass to fill the vase and then shoved the stems in it.

Then he walked out of the bathroom, around the bed and set the flowers on her nightstand.

Then he undressed and didn’t blast the AC like he wanted to considering she was not covered. Then he slid between the sheets and turned out the light.