Full Tilt (Full Tilt #1)(21)

My laughter died and my smile froze. She was right. In the space of one lunch, Kacey had not only broken my diet, but she’d put a dent in my carefully-crafted routine. It wasn’t just taking up my time that could’ve been spent in the hot shop. It was this. Lunch. Easy laughter and sharing. Trusting one another with secrets. Fingers curled softly together…

This was a forbidden item on the menu.

This was bad for my heart.

I wiped my mouth with a napkin and set it on the table.

“Yeah, speaking of my schedule,” I said. “I only have a few hours before I start my shift at A-1 and you have a show tonight. We should get you back to Summerlin.”

Kacey’s smile faded away and her chin tilted at my obvious change in demeanor. “Oh. Sure.” Her luminous light dimmed. “Ready whenever you are.”





I drove us back to my apartment so Kacey could retrieve her bustier and the remnants of her fishnet stockings. But when I pulled into the parking lot, she didn’t get out of the truck, only sat there, unmoving.

“Throw the stupid bustier away,” she said finally.

“You sure?”

“Let’s just keep going,” she said, but it sounded more like, Let’s get it over with.

I drove Kacey back to the Summerlin house in silence. I stopped the truck in the great circular driveway. Kacey climbed out of the truck and stood facing the house.

“I f*cking hate Las Vegas,” she muttered so low I almost didn’t hear her. She turned to me, leaned into the passenger window. “Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

“No problem,” I said. Say something else. Say something better. But the words stuck in my throat.

“And thanks for paying for lunch. It was supposed to be my treat, but I had no money on me. Naturally.” She shook her head. “If you wait a sec, I’ll run up and get some cash.”

“Forget it,” I said. “I ate a French fry for the first time in a year. It was worth twenty bucks.”

She raised her eyes to mine. “Thanks for that, too.”

“What? Eating a fry?”

“For cheering me up. Every time I feel a little down, you make a joke to lift me up.”

I nodded like a mute idiot, not sure what would fall out of my mouth, a joke or the truth: making her laugh was like hitting a mini-jackpot.

She shuffled her feet. “Okay, well. I should get back.”

“Break a leg tonight,” I finally managed.

“I’ll be lucky if that’s all I break,” she said, with a weak laugh. She started to shut the door then stopped. “Thanks for being a good guy, Jonah. There’s a shortage in the world.”

She shut the door and walked away, her pale hair glinting like spun glass in the sun. I watched her walk to the entrance—to make sure she got in okay, I told myself—waiting until she entered the dark confines of the house. It swallowed her up and the door shut behind her.





Without Kacey, my apartment felt airless and sealed. And silent. Had it always been this quiet? I went to the couch to fold up the afghan. Remnants of Kacey’s perfume wafted up and I nearly put the damn thing to my nose to inhale.

You do not have the time for this.

I had to rebuild my fortifications, re-forge the armor I needed to make it to October. I had to erase last night and this afternoon, bury it along with the memory of Kacey’s eyes when she smiled, or how her bare thigh in her short skirt tried to wake up a physical desire I had been denying still existed…

With a silent apology to my departed grandmother, I wadded up the blanket and tossed it in the closet. Then my desire and I took a very cold shower.

After, I stood in my silent kitchen, drinking the dregs of a disgusting protein shake that was no match for the French fry Kacey had pelted me with…

For f*ck’s sake, get over it.

Dwelling on this woman or any woman was a waste of time. I wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of guy. I’d never been wired that way, and starting a relationship now was out of the question. Not with Kacey Dawson, not with anyone.

No more taking beautiful women home with you, or even to lunch. Not anymore.

I checked my phone: it was five o’clock on Saturday night and I was dressed for work. I had two texts from Theo and a voice message from my father, as per usual. Tomorrow I would spend all day at the hot shop, then have dinner with my family. Everything as it should be. My routine had been shaken a little, but remained intact.

On my way out the door, I scooped up Kacey’s bustier and torn fishnets, then chucked them in the dumpster in the parking lot.

“We now return to our regularly scheduled program.”





My boss, Harry Kelton, had been out when I returned the car from last night, but he was in this night. I suspected he wanted to reiterate—in person—that taking drunk girls home was not in my contract.

“Fletcher,” he said by way of greeting, and pulled my paperwork for the night from the mess on his desk. He tossed me a set of car keys. I caught them one-handed as I studied the night’s assignment under the flickering fluorescents, and gaped at what I read.

“Rapid Confession? Again?”

Kacey…

Harry laced his hands behind his head, round circles of sweat darkening his button-down under his arms. “Their manager specifically asked for you.”