Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)(70)

"Anyway!" she said brightly, crossing her legs under the table, "this was a really good idea. I need to eat more hot dogs." She stopped and furrowed her brow. "I mean, you know, you can never eat too many hot dogs." She frowned more. "I mean, you probably can. There is probably a recommended hot dog limit, but I fall too far beneath–"

I laughed out loud. "Okay, Buttercup, you can stop now," I said.

Her eyes flew to mine and her cheeks flushed pink. We stared at each other in silence for several beats before she finally whispered, "I missed that."

"Me too," I said quietly.

"Why do you call me Buttercup, Carson?" she asked quietly, her eyes growing even bigger.

I smiled slightly. "Maybe it's because you're as pretty as a flower," I said.

She stared at me for a couple beats, opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. She shook her head slightly as if clearing her mind. "Carson, I'm engaged," she said.

My jaw tensed. "Yeah, Grace, I know that."

She searched my face and then shook her head slightly and looked down again. "I'm sorry, that sounded… bitchy or something. I didn't mean to imply that you–"

"Grace," I interrupted, "it's okay. Really. I got you, all right? Let's talk about something else. I'm having a good time with you."

She nodded, smiling slightly. "Okay, thank you."

I nodded and then took another big, sloppy bite of my hot dog. She grinned and then did the same with hers.

We finished our food and the waiter came over and cleared the table. We chatted about living in Vegas for a few minutes as we each finished our beers. When the waiter came over with our bill, I paid and we started to get up to leave, putting on our coats.

"This was fun," Grace said.

I smiled at her. "Yeah, it was. I've wondered for a lot of years how you were doing and it's great to see you so happy."

She paused, smiling, but it looked strained. "I am. And same here. It's great to see you doing so well, looking so… well."

We stared at each other for a few beats and then she moved, breaking the spell. We headed for the door.

"Do you want to walk past the Bellagio fountain?" I asked her. "For old time's sake?" I smiled down at her.

She laughed. "Why not? I haven't been there since… well, you know since, you." She glanced up at me, her smile fading.

We walked in silence for a few minutes before she said, "So, Carson, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I said, as we started across the street.

"Did you do that film that you were scheduled to do the morning after you left Vegas?" she asked quietly. I glanced at her and she lowered her eyes, but kept looking straight ahead.

I hesitated in answering her as we made it past a small group of people, and then I took her hand and pulled her to an empty spot at the edge of the stone railing looking out to Lake Bellagio.

We stopped and she pulled her hand back, staring up into my face. "I showed up," I said, in answer to her question.

Her eyes darted away from mine but when I continued with, "But I didn't follow through with the shoot. I left and I didn't come back," her eyes darted back to my face and I thought I saw her shoulders relax.

"Oh," she said. "Well that's… good."

I nodded, not breaking eye contact. God, I wanted to kiss her so badly.

"I looked up your films," she blurted out, her eyes widening.

I froze, my eyes narrowing. What. The. Fuck?

She brought her hands up to her cheeks and looked down. "I'm sorry. That was highly inappropriate to say… I–"

"Why'd you look up my films, Grace?" I asked quietly. I hated knowing that she had seen those. I hated thinking of her sitting at her computer watching me f*ck other women. It made me sick. I looked away, out to the water. "Goddamn, Grace, why'd you do that?" I muttered.

A feeling that I hadn't felt in a really damn long time slithered its way through my belly–shame. I had moved past that, and so to feel it now, in front of Grace, sucked.

What did she think about me now that she had seen that? I tensed my jaw. That life felt so far away, so distant from who I was now. But Grace didn't necessarily see it that way.

"Hey," she said, leaning her head to the side to get my attention. I turned back toward her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. It was so long ago, and–"

"Why did you do it?" I asked, trying to relax.

She shook her head slightly. "At the time, I guess I just needed a reminder about why I shouldn't contact you," she said, her eyes filling with sadness.

I breathed out harshly and turned to face her fully. "Did you miss me?" I asked.

She nodded. "So much, Carson," she said softly.

"Me too," I said quietly back. "It's why I came to see you before I shipped out. I wanted to tell you."

She smiled sadly and opened her mouth to say something when a collective "Oooh" sounded from the group around us and the water show started.

We stood watching it for several minutes and then I moved closer to Grace, our sides barely touching, but the heat of her felt like it was scorching me, moving through me, taking me over. I wanted to move behind her and hold her in my arms like I had the last time we were here. And then I wanted to take her back to my house and–I slammed the brakes on that line of thought. It was only going to lead to pain on several different levels, most notably at the moment, a serious case of blue balls.