Sinful Longing (Sinful Nights, #3)(16)
He might be reading too much into it. But Elle had focused so long on other people—on her son, on her ex. She didn’t let romance into her life, and now she was only permitting fun in the bedroom. Perhaps, though, he needed to do more tonight than just send her soaring between the sheets. This thing between them might only be about the physical right now, but he had a chance tonight to show her how good he could be for her. Maybe friendship was the key to unlocking the heart that she kept so protected.
“Meet me on Fremont Street and North Las Vegas Boulevard at six p.m.”
Her eyes widened and her shoulders tensed. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes. “Are you going to make me do the zip line?”
He scoffed. “Make you? Never. Encourage you? Absolutely.”
“Why do you want me to do it?”
“Because it’s fun. Because it’s a natural high. Because it feels good.”
“Lots of things feel good but that doesn’t mean I want to do them.”
“So let me get this straight. You do roller derby, racing around a rink like a speed demon on skates, and you won’t do a zip line?” he asked, challenging her.
She narrowed her eyes, parking her hands on her hips. “Not the same. Roller derby is flat. Besides, I’ve done it for years, I play defense, and it’s indoors.”
“C’mon, Titanium,” he urged, goading her with her roller derby name.
She pursed her lips. “No fair.”
“All’s fair,” he began, but cut himself off before finishing with in love and war. He didn’t want to hint at love, or romance, or anything close to it. Those were red flags for her, even if he hoped something in the back of her mind or heart might yearn for them. “In any case, it’s your choice, Titanium.”
“I will consider it as I lock up my office,” she said, and those words—lock up—flipped the switch on an idea.
He jumped to a new topic. “Hey, would it be okay if I increased my firm’s donation to the center?”
She shook her head playfully. “No. God no. Anything but that,” she said, waving it off. She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. But why, may I ask?”
“Thought it would be smart to get some additional security while the revitalization is going on,” he said, gesturing to the court and main building. “Lots of people coming and going. Construction crews. My donation already went to some of that already. Just a little more for some extra manpower.”
“Anything I should worry about?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Well, more than usual. I know this isn’t the best section of town, but it’s getting better.”
“It is absolutely getting better. Let’s keep it that way. I happen to know some guys in security,” he said, since Ryan and Michael ran a security firm.
“Let’s do it.”
“Three of my favorite words from you,” he said, as they walked off the court. He pointed to his car parked down the block. “I’m going to go shower and walk the dog. I’ll see you at six.”
She fanned herself. “Now I have a nice image of you naked and wet in the shower.”
“And that’s my cue to go.”
He brushed his lips against hers, leaving her a quick, hot kiss to think about.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Elle stared at the crowds along the Fremont Street Canopy seventy-seven feet below her.
Deep breath.
She wasn’t afraid of heights, but she was afraid of, well, of dying. Or, more precisely, dying stupidly. Like jumping into a lake and cutting her head on a rock. Like parachuting. Like crashing from a zip line. That kind of death.
Logically, she knew a zip line wasn’t a dangerous activity in the spectrum of dangerous things. But her rapidly beating heart, which seemed to be fighting its way out of her chest, begged to disagree. Her skin prickled with nerves—the kind she hadn’t felt since she was younger and danced with danger. Now, as an adult, she tried to keep her risks manageable.
You can do this, she told the portion of her brain that had zero interest in skydiving and bungee jumping. Just a zip line. It’s exceedingly safe, and ridiculously fun.
Plus, Colin waited patiently on the other side, hovering in his seat. The parallel zip lines ran down the length of the covered Fremont Street that was the epicenter of downtown Las Vegas—old Vegas, with the Golden Nugget, and slots that still relied on coins rather than tickets. It was Vegas before mega resorts broke ground on the Strip.
Everyone rode the line here on Fremont Street. It was part of the experience. Besides, cruising along a zip line was a perfectly manageable risk. Man-made, controllable. The kind she could handle.
“I’m ready,” she said to the attendant. In a rush, so she wouldn’t back down, she let go and stepped off the platform, zipping off in her seat harness. She unleashed a rollercoaster shout of excitement. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she soared above the specks of miniature people, and a sense of wild glee engulfed her as she sped, faster and faster. She glanced briefly to the left, where Colin sailed above the crowds on his downhill flight along the canopy.
Screw fear. This was a pure rush, as the summer breeze whooshed past her, reminding her of the thrill she felt when roller-skating, the high-speed chase around the rink. The charge that raced through her overpowered her primal worries. She rode several blocks in the sky.