“I’m not sure. What was it you thought you said?” he asked. He was teasing me. I could hear the smile in his voice, but I couldn’t look at him. Then my humiliation would be complete.
I took a big breath for courage. “I am having a bit of a hard time acting like an intelligent human being with you sitting so close to me.” I was losing my breath, and there was nothing I could do about it short of asking for oxygen or leaving his presence, and I definitely wasn’t ready to do that yet. Talk about potential. This guy had the potential to be my Vegas fling. The wild and crazy sex Candice had talked about on the plane. The forget-Luke-and-move-on man. I looked at him really quick and then faced forward again. Could I have sex with this guy? A total stranger who I know nothing about? Who I’ll never see again? Whose name I don’t even know?
“My name’s Mack, by the way. What’s yours?”
Panic mode, level eight. What is he? A mind reader? Okay, scratch the not-knowing-his-name part. The question is, could I have a one-night stand with a man named Mack who wears a cowboy hat to a casino? He put his forearms on the table as he looked at his cards and waited for my answer. They showed lean muscles under tanned skin and golden highlighted arm hair sprinkling the surface enough to make me wonder what he had going on under his shirt. Yes. I can definitely do this.
I looked at him. He caught my eye and smiled at me, revealing just the slightest dimple in his left cheek … and it was all over for any self control I might have possessed before coming to Vegas. “My name is Andrea, but my friends call me Andie.”
“Andie it is, then.” He draped his arm across the back of my chair, standing so he could get closer to me. “What are you going to do, Andie? Hit or stay?” He wasn’t even looking at the cards. His piercing blue eyes were staring into mine, possibly daring me to take a challenge.
I didn’t even look at my cards. “I could do either one right now and it would make me really happy.” The thrill that ran up my spine was nothing compared to the electricity that jolted my entire body when he leaned towards me and put his face near my ear. His breath tickled my skin as he spoke.
“I meant on the table.”
I smiled, the devil in me taking over. “Wherever, whatever. It’s your call.”
He tipped his head back and laughed, rubbing his hat on his head a few times while he grinned like a madman. “You’re somethin’ else, Andie, you know that?” He took the cocktail from the waitress who’d shown up behind us and handed it to me. I had three drinks now and I planned to drink every one of them. Once he’d gotten his beer and tipped the girl a few dollars, he raised his bottle in my direction.
“Here’s to getting lucky in Vegas.”
I grinned like a crazy fool. “I’ll drink to that.” I clanked my glass against his bottle so hard some of the drink sloshed out. He backed up really quick, pointing a finger at me. “You’re dangerous. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me all wet again.”
I shrugged, sipping my drink as innocently as possible. Then my mouth opened up and more ridiculousness came out. “Turnabout’s fair play.”
He didn’t say anything but he lifted an eyebrow. And I noticed for the next three hands of blackjack, all of which we both won, he got closer and closer to me, until I was turned sideways and one of his thighs was in between mine. If I scooted any closer to the edge of the stool, I’d be humping his leg, but I totally didn’t care. I didn’t even worry about where my friends were or what was taking them so long to find me. I knew Candice would return eventually, even if she had to put Kelly down for the night upstairs first. And I felt more than confident that Mack would take care of me until they came back. If I were being honest, I’d admit that while I waited for my friends’ return, I sent up a few prayers to the goddess of love, begging that Candice not be able to find me for a really long time.
Chapter Eleven
MACK GRABBED MOST OF THE chips in front of us and put them in a plastic cup with the casino’s logo on it. He flipped a chip worth twenty dollars at the dealer. “You ready to get outta here?” He sounded surprisingly sober considering how many beers he’d drunk.
“But what about these ones?” I asked, touching to the ones he was leaving behind.
“Those are yours.”
He must be confused. Or maybe he’s drunker than he looks. I felt a little panicked when I realized maybe it wasn’t confusion or beers … maybe he didn’t know that I’d been using his chips all along. I looked at the twelve hundred dollars of multi-colored chips in front of me. “Those aren’t mine, they’re yours. I kind of … took some of your chips in that first round. I’m sorry … I panicked. They said you’d lose your seat.” I grimaced at him, wondering if I’d just blown my chance at a roll in the proverbial hay with the sexiest cowboy this side of the Mississippi.