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“Hell, yes. I’m going this weekend for a charity golf tournament, and you should come with me.”
I laughed. “I thought you wanted to do something fun and different in bed. I wasn’t expecting Vegas.”
His eyes narrowed and he tipped my chin up. Kissed me. “We’re totally going to do something fun and different in bed. But we’re also going to Vegas.”
“When were you going to tell me about this trip?”
“I only found out about it this morning. My agent signed me up. There was an opening.”
“You have to go?”
“It’s to raise money for a bunch of charities. Each participant has one they play for If I go, my own charity gets a bunch of it.”
“Your own charity?” He had a charity? I had a set of glasses from Dairy Queen.
He nodded and told me about the programs for kids, connecting them with safe places that were enriching, through educational support and sports offerings.
He shared the amount he’d get for showing up–not even if he won the event–and I was a little stunned. Not because he was so philanthropic, which he seemed to be, but the amount of money a simple golf tournament would shell out. “That’s a lot of sports gear for kids.”
“Exactly. I have to go.”
I nodded. “Yeah, you do.”
“So come with me.”
Instantly, I shook my head. “I can’t go with you to Vegas. I have work. Grocery shopping. The house. A squirrel.”
He pulled out a chair, dropped in it, then pulled me from mine and onto his lap.
“Listen to yourself, sugar. You don’t work on the weekend. I’m sure Claudia will let you take a day off if you ask. She’ll definitely let you take a day off if I ask.”
Sadly, that was probably true.
“Next one. Groceries? Please. Lame excuse. The house? Theo’s there. So is the squirrel. They’ll keep watch together.”
“But–”
He was being ridiculous, but probably so was I.
He stroked my hair back, tipped my chin up again. “What’s the real reason you’re saying no?”
I blinked, thought about it.
“Expensive plane ticket.”
He gave me a look that screamed, Try harder. “I’m not trying to boast, but do you know how much money I make? A ticket to Vegas isn’t an issue. Besides, I’m taking the jet.”
The James Corp jet I went on to Denver with Bridget and Mallory. It was so much better than any commercial flight.
“Of course you are.”
“I was going to take it so I could get back to you faster, but now? Mile High Club, sugar.”
He waggled his eyebrows, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
When I didn’t give him an answer, he pushed on. “It’s not that funny of an idea. We don’t have to fuck on the jet. Making out would be good. Heavy petting.”
Why was I arguing about going away for the weekend? It was Vegas, not Finland. I was having a fling with Dex and going to Vegas screamed fling.
