Full Tilt (Full Tilt #1)(58)

Kacey nodded.

“I get scared or pissed off that this happened to me,” I said. “I took care of myself, you know? I exercised like a bastard, I ate right, and I still got really f*cking sick. Like being hit by a truck even though I looked both ways and the street was empty.”

I rubbed my hand hard on my knee so I wouldn’t clench it into a fist. The other held Kacey’s tight. I worried I was bruising her fingers, but I couldn’t let go.

“So yeah…I’m scared,” I said. “And that’s something I can’t tell my other friends.”

She let go my hand and then she was in my arms, hugging me around the neck. “Thank you for telling me.”

I froze, my senses infused with her. The softness of her hair on my cheek, the caramel scent of her warm skin. My arms went around her, stiffly at first, but she was so soft. She melted into me, wanting to be held. And like telling her what I couldn’t tell anyone else, I wanted to hold her like I held no one else. Stroke her hair, inhale her sweetness. Kiss her and never stop…

Her head lifted off my shoulder, but her arms still ringed my neck. She looked at me, her lips parted expectantly, her eyes warm and soft. In the silence, she raised her hand, and laid her palm on my chest. My heart pounded back under her touch, and a soft smile came to her lips.

“It feels so strong,” she murmured.

The top of my scar was just visible at the hem of my collar. Kacey hooked her index finger on the edge of my collar and drew it down, revealing another inch of angry red. Head cocked, she studied it, ran her thumb over the shiny ridge.

I fought not to pull back…or lean forward into her touch. Halfway between panic and desire, I froze but for my heart that was galloping.

“You’re the first woman…the first person to touch my scar.”

“That’s not right,” she murmured, and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on that ugly seam. Then she curled against my chest, exhausted and spent, safe between me and the couch cushions.

I lay back, taking her with me. I held her, relishing the feel of her body along mine, memorizing the softness of her hair falling through my fingers. I closed my eyes, letting all my other senses absorb the warmth and comfort of having a woman in my arms. This woman.

I was tempted to stay all night. To kiss her good morning and f*ck the consequences. But when the first light of dawn sliced through the window, it glinted off my watch. I had forty minutes to get home and take my immune suppressants. If I delayed, those consequences would f*ck with me.

I slipped off the couch, covered Kacey with a throw blanket, and quietly left.





Dena and Oscar were ecstatic about Kacey coming back in town. They insisted on doing something special to welcome her to Vegas. I smelled an ulterior motive, but I was touched they wanted to bring her into our regular Monday hang-outs.

“Kacey’s coming out with us tonight,” I told Theo on the phone. “A welcome dinner. You should bring Sally.”

“Holly,” Theo corrected.

Holly Daniels was his on-again, off-again girlfriend. Or the closest thing he’d had to a girlfriend in his life. A petite woman with a loud laugh and short, dark hair, she’d been one of Theo’s customers at Vegas Ink. I teased him that Holly had only wanted one tiny tattoo but had kept coming back until she’d won Theo over. Every time I saw her two full sleeves of tattoos along her arms, I had to bury a laugh.

“So it’s a couples thing?” Theo said.

“No. Well…” My hand wandered up to my collar and the top of my scar, where I could still feel Kacey’s kiss. One little brush of her lips branded on my skin and in my mind. I kept coming back to it.

“Hello?”

I snapped to. “No, it’s not a couples thing. It’s a friend thing. Bring Holly, bring someone else or bring no one. It’s up to you.”

“Where we going?”

“Kacey wants to go to dinner and a casino. I thought the MGM Grand would be good to—”

“You can’t go to a casino and be around all that smoke. Doesn’t she know that?”

“She does,” I said, “but it was my idea. She’s never been to a casino, and the MGM has excellent ventilation. I researched it.”

He grumbled something incoherent.

“Come on, bro. Oscar and Dena are down. It’ll be fun. Something different.”

“Different,” Theo said. “Christ, you have it bad.”

“I’m being optimistic,” I said with a grin. “Come on, Teddy.”

A pause. “Where we eating?”

“Your favorite, the New Orleans Fish House,” I said. “All the spicy-as-hell crawdads you can eat. Eight o’clock.”

That won him over. Or maybe he wanted to watch over me like a damn mother hen all night, but he agreed to go.

I told Kacey I’d pick her up at 7:45. She opened her door wearing an oversize, off-the-shoulder blouse in some kind of shimmery material. It slipped over her skin like molten silver, leaving one shoulder bare, and hung to her thighs where a short black skirt peeked out. But it was the black stockings she wore just above her knee that drained the blood from my brain.

She’d piled her hair onto her head and secured with some kind of clip or band with a large silk black rose over her right ear. Her striking features were done up in dark, cat’s-eyes makeup and bright red lips. A cloud of her perfume—her favorite and the one she kept in the bottle I had made for her—wafted through me.