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He gives me a look as if to sayyou know those two.Knowing Avery, they were playing instead of packing. I shake my head. I’ve always been envious of my sister. She just bounces around, happy with herself all the time. I have never been that way.
Well, I was for a while, then my husband died.
Mentally, I step away from that thought. I’m going to do the right thing and go to Vegas. We haven’t done an O’Bryan girls’ trip for years. I pack my suitcase easily. I was a military wife, so this is second nature to me. And as I’m grabbing my panties and bras, I pause. I do have a few sets of sexy underwear. I don’t wear them that often, but every now and then, I want something to make me feel pretty.
I grab my favorite set, black lace balconette bra with a pair of matching cheeky panties. I have a few others just like this, so I toss them in too. I’m not looking to clear out my cobwebs. That’s never been my game. The only time I did something rash like that was the night I met Sam.
Still, there’s nothing wrong with feeling pretty while in Vegas because I’m wearing some sexy lingerie.
With that thought, I head into the bathroom. Now that I’ve accepted the idea of going to Vegas with my sisters, I’m all in.
And if I come back refreshed and ready to tackle the move, it will be a win.
ChapterTwo
MASON
When did Vegas get so boring?
The sounds of bells and people celebrating fill the air around me as I walk through the casino to the bank of elevators. I should be enjoying my time here, but all I can think of is that comfy king in my room. I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m ready to go back to Texas.
It isn’t my first trip to Sin City. My sister and brother brought me here when I turned twenty-one. We partied all night. Well, Everly and I did. Wyatt was the chaperone. I didn’t pay much attention to that because I had such a good time, but I have a feeling both Everly and I were assholes. I take that back. I know we both were even though a lot of the night is fuzzy. But Wyatt ended up raising us after our folks died, so he’s used to us being assholes.
Now, almost nine years have passed and I’m heading back to my room before ten. It could be the weight of my responsibilities dragging me down. I’ve been running my restaurant since I was only nineteen. Wyatt helped me start by signing on as my partner, but I’ve been responsible for running things for a decade.
Fuck, I feel old.
I shake off that feeling as I pass a tall blonde. She’s hot, with a sparkly dress that barely covers her ass and tits. She smiles at me, the invitation is there in her big blue eyes. She’s the type of woman I usually go for, but I feel nothing. My body doesn’t respond and the only interest on my part is the mental note of how beautiful she is. I’m not even in the mood for a one-night stand.
I try to push that thought aside. I’m young, in Vegas, and I have nothing to do other than get on my plane in the morning. The urge to find someone to share the night with isn’t there. Not at all. That’s something that’s been happening a lot lately. It should alarm me more, but there’s something about becoming an uncle for the first time. My sister, who I never thought would settle down, is a mom, and a few of my old friends from high school are having their own kids. I’ve been feeling off for a few months. It’s weird seeing my friends pair off.
And I’m lying to myself. That’s part of my issue, but the other part of it is the situation. Esme, she’s my whole world, and all I can think about is how she will look at me years from now. It all started with one night, one forgotten name…and I realized that I was getting too old to be dicking around. I wasn’t ready to settle down, and I didn’t have time in my life to deal with a relationship, but I definitely needed to quit being such a slut.
I step onto the elevator, and I’m happy to find myself alone when the doors start to close. I usually like people, but the last few days at the restaurant convention have been overwhelming. So much to absorb. The high I used to get off Vegas isn’t doing it for me. So the quiet elevator is a relief. Unfortunately, a hand slips through the opening and forces the doors to open at the last moment.
“Come on, Mrs. Abernathy-Hawthorne.
A couple tumble into the elevator and I blink. Unbelievably, I know the woman. Dr. Piper Abernathy is standing in front of me wearing a sash that proclaims her to be just married. Her bright red hair is a mess of curls, and she’s wearing a green sundress. The man behind her is none other than billionaire—and her fiancé —Carter Hawthorne.
“Doc?”
She blinks, then her eyes widen. “Mason?”
“What are you doing here?” Carter asks, looking entirely out of sorts. He hasn’t been my biggest fan since the LOLs back home, aka the Little Old Ladies, tried to get me to flirt with Piper to make Carter jealous. We usually get along since we share a niece, but since that debacle, he’s given me the stink eye every time we meet up.
Their romance was fast, from a picture in the tabloids to engaged before most of Juniper Springs knew they were seriously dating. But that’s how things happen in Juniper sometimes.
“Restaurant convention. Did I hear right? You’re married?”
I look down at their hands. They’re both wearing wedding bands. My gaze rises to meet theirs.
There is a long beat of silence as the tinny elevator music fills the small lift. Carter glances at his bride, then back at me.
“How about you forget that you heard we were married?”
My gaze ping-pongs back and forth between the two of them. “Still having me cater the wedding?”
“Yes. Of course,” Piper says. “I would never cancel that.”
