Honeymoon for One Read Free

walk was a little booze.
    “I play the nickel machines.” Sarah, one of her trivia teammates, pointed to her husband. “Big spender here likes the craps table.”
    “Absolutely.” The man leaned over and kissed his wife briefly on the lips, and hurried off to the gaming tables across the crowded room.
    Michelle shifted her weight and ignored the tug of jealousy that crept up at the easy marital gesture. “Well, the nickel slot machines sound more my speed, but I think I’ll look around first.”
    “Sure. I’ll probably still be here if you get bored.” A plastic cup of coins gripped in one hand, Sarah slid onto a nearby seat.
    The bustling sounds of slot machines dinging, roulette wheels spinning, and people chatting and cheering made Michelle want to play, too. For a few minutes she stopped and watched Sarah’s husband at the craps table. People placed their chips on the felt table, and then one person would toss the dice. Chips moved back and forth, and every so often the table would burst out in a loud roar. Judging by the pile of chips at Sarah's husband's side, at least he knew what was going on.
    When the waitress came by to take drink orders, Michelle hesitated. The sweet little angel on her shoulder was apoplectic over the four drinks she’d already had. But the little shopgirl whispering in her other ear convinced her the concoctions were nothing more than glorified banana milkshakes. So she ordered another. Fresh drink in hand, she took a long sip and strolled over to the roulette table.
    This she could do. With ten dollars of splurge money in her pocket, she wanted to play. Until now, she’d never realized how much of her life had been spent on the sidelines. Other people traveled on vacation, but not her, she saved her vacation time for spring-cleaning. Weekends were spent doing laundry and buying groceries. Jeez, venturing to the movie theater was about the biggest deal she had going. Especially since she usually waited for the movies to come out on DVD. Cheaper that way.
    But not now. For once, she would be part of the action. Setting down her half-empty drink, she handed the dealer her money and clutched at the ten round chips she received in return. What number to pick? The board behind the dealer showed all the recently winning numbers and colors. Nibbling on her lower lip, she studied the other players. A large older man stacked piles of chips on four or five different numbers. Next to him, a skinny brunette placed a short stack on black. The guy hanging over her shoulder picked twenty-one.
    Everyone had placed their bets. The dealer spun the inner wheel in one direction and flicked the ball into play in the opposite direction. She was out of time. Had missed her chance. Then an arm reached out from behind her and set a short stack of chips on seventeen black. A deep voice rumbled, “Excuse me,” and she dropped a chip.
    In a desperate measure to cover her clumsiness, she slid the chip over to black. Safe bet, red or black. That should make the angel and the shopgirl battling inside her happy.
    “No more bets.”
    She held her breath. Closed her eyes and then opened them in a flash. How stupid would she look standing at a roulette table with her eyes closed over a one-dollar bet?
    “Black seventeen.”
    Her stare flung over to the man who’d sat beside her. His voice so low and sexy that two little words had her fumbling awkwardly. And no wonder. Everything about him screamed deep and sexy. Jet-black hair, Mediterranean-blue eyes, and a caramel-colored tan offset by a crisp white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up midway on strong forearms. Oh, yeah, definitely a player. The guy probably spent all his spare time sailing or on a tennis court. At a club. A private club. With a perky blonde on each arm.
    Michelle moved a few inches away, took a sip of her BBC and set her winning chip down on black, again. The sexy arm reached forward and placed more chips on seventeen. Why would