Fly With Me (Wild Aces #1)(8)

“If he’s interested, he’ll come find me today. If he’s not, it’s his loss.”

That was the mantra I kept repeating to myself as doubt started to creep in. That said, I’d totally come prepared.

We were lounging at one of the pools at Palazzo, the resort joined with our hotel, the Venetian. It was late February and the weather was unseasonably warm, but even though the pool was allegedly heated, it was a little too cold for a Florida girl to get in the water. But that didn’t mean I hadn’t rocked my bathing suit “A” game.

I was a beach girl through and through, and owning my own clothing boutique meant I got an awesome discount and my clothing choices were a walking advertisement for the business. Suffice it to say, I had more bikinis than there were days in the month.

Every girl had that one outfit that doubled as her suit of armor—that go-to look that gave her the confidence she needed to kick ass and take names. Thankfully, I’d had the foresight to bring mine to Vegas.

The bikini was white, which was kind of a risky choice, but luckily I spent most of my time at the beach and South Florida had freaking gorgeous weather year-round, so it contrasted with my tanned skin. It was the skimpiest suit I owned, covering the important bits, leaving the rest exposed in between strappy pieces of fabric. I wore my hair down, and as stupid as I’d felt blowing it out and curling it to go lie by the pool, Noah had seemed to have a thing for it last night, and I was on a mission here. No corners would be cut.

I wore a sheer cover-up that exposed more than it concealed, but gave me the right to wear the wedges on my feet that gave my legs the extra advantage I needed.

My makeup consisted of a nude lipstick and some bronzer, a bit of shadow at my eyes, and a swipe of mascara which I never left the house without. I perched a pair of Tom Fords on my face to shield my gaze from the bright Vegas sun.

“Did you even tell him where we were staying?” Meg asked between gulps of water.

The one advantage to having a good forty pounds on my sister was that I wasn’t feeling any effects from last night’s binge.

“Nope.”

“So how is he supposed to find you?”

“Are you talking about the guy last night?” Stacey asked, plopping down next to Meg’s lounge chair.

I hadn’t seen her and Amber this morning, but Meg and I had left a note in our suite telling them to meet us at the pool.

I nodded.

“He asked us where you were staying.”

Meg grinned. “So that’s where you and Amber were last night.”

Tell me they both hooked up with Easy.

She grinned. “Hey, his friend was hot.”

My throat went a little dry. “Please tell me this was a party of three.”

Stacey’s smile widened. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell. But you’ll be happy to know that your guy went to his room alone right after you left. Trust me, he definitely wasn’t interested.”

Yes.

“So you told him I was staying at the Venetian?”

She nodded. “And I might have added that we planned on coming to the pool today. I didn’t tell him which pool, but I figured those were enough breadcrumbs for him to follow. And for the record, if he’s anything like his friend, trust me when I say, you are very welcome.”

I laughed. I didn’t know Amber or Stacey that well, the age difference between us meant I hadn’t spent a lot of time with Meg’s friends, but they were a lot of fun. A little louder than my sister, but definitely the kind of girls you wanted on a trip like this.

“Thanks. So where’s Amber?”

“She’s feeling the effects of last night a little more than I was. She said she’d be down in a bit. I think she was going to take a nap.”

Meg groaned, using a copy of Vogue to shield the sun from her face. “I should probably go join her.”

I grinned. “I take it that means you aren’t up for a mimosa?”

“I’m never drinking again.”

“More for me, then. Do you want one, Stacey?” She nodded. I grabbed my wallet from my beach bag. “I’m going to head to the bar.”

There were waitresses patrolling the pool area taking drink orders, but it was pretty busy, and I figured it would take a while before someone got around to me.

I walked over to the bar, returning a few smiles that were thrown my way by guys I passed, ignoring the catcalls and the invitations to come join them. I had a feeling a lot of people were still drunk from the night before.

I found an empty spot at the bar, waiting while the bartenders filled orders. After they got to me I paid for the mimosas, heading back to the section of lounge chairs we’d commandeered, and stopped dead in my tracks.

Three guys stood talking to Meg and Stacey. I recognized Easy; wearing navy blue swim trunks, he looked even more beautiful than he had last night. He stood next to a hot guy with reddish hair—channeling Prince Harry—who I hadn’t met before. And then I saw Noah.

My mouth went dry, and any hope of having a coherent thought fled.

Tanned skin. Abs. Fitness magazine abs. Pecs like you read about. Broad shoulders. Aviators. Black swim trunks. Holy f*ckballs.

My Chupacabra dating theory went out the window. Everything went out the window. Hopefully, my clothes would follow.

I was going to make this happen or die trying.