“With the stranger who I met for two seconds in an airport in Vegas? That doesn’t sound like the start of a lasting relationship.”
Cindy was unperturbed. “Who said anything about a lasting relationship? I just want you to hook up with this guy. You are totally allowed to bail on my bachelorette party if you’re hooking up with a guy.”
Jessica held up a finger. “One—you’re just all excited about this because you’re happy and in love and therefore like to set people up.” She put up a second finger. “And two—this is exactly the kind of situation where the girl ends up going out on a date with a murderer and her friends all say, ‘It was so unlike her to go out with total strangers, but we convinced her it would be a good idea and now she’s dead.’ No, thank you.”
Cindy raised one eyebrow, giving her friend her patented “I’m not convinced” look before rolling her eyes. “Fine, come up with all the excuses you want about why you won’t call him. You liked what you saw and that terrified you. I get it.”
Cindy stopped and crossed her arms, as if waiting for Jessica to take the bait. Jessica knew her friend wanted her to argue with her, but she also had been around Cindy long enough that she didn’t need to rise to the occasion and defend her actions. Especially because what she said was probably true.
Jessica shrugged and kept walking, and Cindy had no choice but to keep up.
Together they found the baggage claim area. Everyone but Jessica had brought giant suitcases that needed to be picked up. As they stepped off the last escalator, Jessica spotted a man in a suit with a driver’s hat holding a sign that read Mrs. Cynthia Frederickson. She elbowed Cindy. “Looks like you have a chauffeur, Mrs. Frederickson.”
Cindy squealed in delight at seeing her future married name. “This is so much fun! I need to have a bachelorette party at least once a year from now on.”
Jessica shook her head as Cindy ran over to the man, bewildering him with her enthusiasm. Cindy was unlike anyone else Jessica had ever met, and she loved her for it.
The group of women followed in Cindy’s wake, and once again Jessica found herself trailing behind. The chauffer gathered their luggage—no easy feat, since all the bags were giant and seemed very heavy—and led the women outside to the largest and most garish limo Jessica had ever seen. It was basically a very long SUV with flashing LED lights all over it.
The women around her laughed and screeched with pleasure. “I love this city!” Cindy cried in delight.
Miss New York started singing “Viva Las Vegas” and a few others joined in as they hauled themselves up the steps into the back of the outrageous vehicle. Jessica had to laugh at how ridiculous it all was. Normally she would roll her eyes if she saw that monstrosity rolling down the street—and probably make some comment about consumerism or the environment—but for this moment, this weekend, she was just going to go with it.
She ducked into the dark, laughter-filled limo. She was in Las Vegas and was getting on board, both literally and metaphorically.
* * *
AARON WEATHERS HEADED toward the private car he’d arranged weeks in advance. Normally it would seem silly to get a private car for a five-minute drive, but he’d learned long ago that the expense was worth it if it meant he didn’t have to wait in the soul-crushing taxi line at the airport.
This time, however, he lingered an extra few seconds before getting in, taking one last look while his friend Jeremiah walked around and got in the other side. Maybe he could get another glimpse of the girl from the terminal before he left.
Unfortunately there was a gargantuan SUV limo in the way of the baggage claim area, so he couldn’t see much. As it took off, he ducked into the backseat of the town car.
It had been quick, a couple of minutes at the most, that they had stood together, and he wanted to see her again, even if just for a second to make sure she was real. It had been the strangest thing. He’d turned his head and there she was, staring at him with deep green eyes that hooked him somehow. He’d been close enough to see the flecks of gold in them. Her long flowing hair, dark red and curling lightly at the edges, made his fingers ache to slide through it.
Aaron had liked everything about her. The eyes, the hair, the small dusting of freckles, her height. She was taller than most of the men around her, even in her low-heeled boots. Which weren’t quite low enough, he thought with a smile.
The moment she had started to fall, he instinctively jumped forward. She had caught herself in time, but if she had actually fallen, he would have been there to save her. In a way, he regretted that it was unnecessary because then perhaps she would feel more reason to call the stranger who had given her his number.
She had left so quickly the story felt incomplete. He had no way of contacting her. He half wished he had run after her, tried to get her name and number, but that seemed like the move a crazy person would make, which wasn’t exactly the impression he wanted to leave on her. If there was any possibility she might call, chasing her down would most likely be a deal-breaker. Besides, he couldn’t ditch Jeremiah like that.
He wished he’d gotten her name, though.
She intrigued him, and he wanted to see her again. If she didn’t get in touch, what chance would he ever have of finding her again? Based on her clothes and the heavy jacket slung over her arm, it was apparent she came from some cold city and he highly doubted she was in town for the rodeo.
What if he never saw her again, and that was all there was to it?
AARON LEANED BACK against the supple leather of his seat and pictured the woman from the airport, imagining her walking toward him and giving him a sexy smile. She hadn’t given him one, but he knew it was there, hiding, waiting for the right moment. He only pulled out of his reverie when he noticed Jeremiah leaning against the car door and staring at him, his arms crossed.
“What are you thinking about? Did you hear anything I was saying?”
Aaron had been so absorbed in his fantasy he hadn’t even realized his friend was talking. After a pause, he admitted, “I—was thinking about this woman I just met in the airport.”
“You met a girl? Already? Where was I?”
“It was when we were leaving the gate, so I’m guessing you were still flirting with the flight attendant.”
Jeremiah nodded his agreement. “I love flight attendants.”
“You have never managed to get one to go out with you. Not once. You know that, right?”
Jeremiah shrugged. “Well, sure, but if I keep trying, one of them is bound to think I’m adorable one of these days.”
Jeremiah linked his fingers behind his head and leaned back, completely content in his failure. Even after being friends for pretty much their entire lives, Jeremiah’s tenacity and good humor never ceased to amaze Aaron.
After a few seconds of quiet reverie, Jeremiah turned his attention back to Aaron. “So, this girl you met. Hot?”
Aaron nodded. That didn’t even begin to describe her.
“Did you set something up with her? Get her name and number?”
If only.
“I managed to give her mine before she took off, but I didn’t get hers. I don’t think she’ll call, though.”
Jeremiah shrugged again. “If she calls, great. If she doesn’t, no big loss.”
He was always so accepting of any situation, Aaron never quite knew if it was admirable or annoying.
Jeremiah continued, “We’ve been in Vegas for ten minutes and you already