Double Down Read Free Page B

swerved from Ryan to Cass, then back to Ryan again. If a man could bristle, Tommy did.
    “Can I help you?”
    “No, sir.” Ryan glanced down at Cass, his humor like an aphrodisiac. “I’m good.”
    “You can’t be in here.”
    Lordy, how had she put up with that for six months? Being sensible wasn’t worth that level of compromise. What did it say about Tommy that his customer was the one who used “sir” while he mislaid that courtesy?
    “Don’t worry,” Ryan said. “We were just leaving.”
    Tommy smoothed a hand down his suit, that telltale nervous habit of his. “Cass, you said you’d close tonight.”
    Shoot. She had.
    “That was probably because you thought I was a no-show,” Gilly said. She stood against the notice wall where schedules and time cards were the only decoration. All the finery in Blakely’s was saved for the dining room. “I’m here now. I’ll close.”
    Cass mouthed a silent thank you to her friend. Knowing Gilly, she’d want to be repaid in details. Maybe for once Cass would have a few to share.
    “I can’t believe you,” Tommy said.
    The flush was high on his cheeks. He was handsome. He really was, no matter his squint and his lanky thinness. Yet he could look downright rodentlike when he turned mean. Cass suppressed a shiver of a different kind. Their last argument—the Big One, as she’d dubbed it—had revealed his true colors. Being called desert trash wasn’t something she’d ever forgive, let alone how he’d wet his wiener between Cynthia’s rail-thin thighs.
    “You’re just going to go with this guy? This guy you met an hour ago?”
    “Now hold up there.” Ryan’s voice sounded gruff and confrontational, but Cass caught the teasing glint in his eyes. “I was a customer an hour ago. We only met about, what, fifteen minutes ago?”
    “Maybe twenty,” Cass said. “Not long.”
    “Yeah, not long.”
    She’d been expecting a grand, passionate grope—the kind that would roast the innards of any still-clingy, still-possessive ex. That didn’t seem to be Ryan’s style. He leaned down, taking his time, inviting the tiny world of Blakely’s kitchen to watch. He nudged one pigtail aside with his nose. His kiss, when it came, was the gentlest touch of skin to skin. Warm lips pressed against the hollow behind her jaw, just below her earlobe.
    Much better. She forced herself to hold still, to soak in his deliberate restraint. Let ’em wonder what went on behind closed doors. They’d get no wild mauling from this gentleman.
    Only his exhalation gave him away, hot against her cheek. Too fast. Too erratic. Good . She liked the idea that he was raring to go, no matter this slow pantomime.
    Ryan straightened to his full height. He nodded once to Tommy, then to Gillian. “Sir, ma’am, have a good evening.”
    Cass helped make their in-your-face exit perfect by guiding him back through the kitchen toward the door to the employee parking lot. Her knees were mush. Her feet felt a hundred yards away. Every time she thought her strength would fail—out of sheer, unbelievable excitement—she gripped his rock-solid arm.
    The air outside was no relief. Vegas in April may as well be a cool day in hell, and it wasn’t even summer yet. The exit door closed behind them. Compared to the din in the kitchen and the throb in Cass’s head, the city noises were almost peaceful.
    Ryan chuckled. “Hot damn, that was fun.”
    The tension in her chest burst out in laughter to match. She collapsed against the restaurant’s stucco outer wall. “Oh, yeah. Best time I’ve had in months.”
    “We’re not done yet.”
    “Good.” And she meant it. She wanted more and more, like a kid at a fair gorging on cotton candy and too many rides.
    He stalked closer. Hard body. Hard wall. Cass was caught in between. Only the grin clinging to his fine mouth kept the moment from becoming intimidating.
    “Can I kiss you?” he asked.
    “You just did.”
    “For real this time.”
    “That one