We got to Pink's and I held the door open for her. Grace grinned at me as she walked through. The hostess led us to a table and I pulled Grace's chair out for her. "M'lady," I said.
She laughed as I scooted her close to the table and took my own seat. We both took off our jackets and when the waiter came over, we both ordered a beer.
"So tell me more about why you decided to become a prosecutor," I said.
She looked down and played with her napkin for a minute before responding, "Actually, Carson, I have you to thank for that. After we talked about it here," she waved her arm toward the window, indicating Vegas, "I realized that it was what I really wanted. And I made it happen. So… thank you."
I leaned back in my chair and smiled. "Really?"
"Yeah, really." She smiled at me. "Anyway, I took my first job in D.C. but there just weren't any openings in the court I wanted to be in, and so I started applying to different cities and ended up here. And I love it. I really, really love it."
I smiled at her. "That's great, Grace."
She blinked at me, looking like something had just occurred to her. "Your friend…" she said.
"We can talk about that another time, okay? It's a weird situation, but… let's just catch up tonight."
She nodded, pursing her lips slightly. The waiter came over with our beers and took our orders.
When the waiter walked away, Grace said, "That's what you ordered the last time." She grinned.
"I know. You ordered the same thing too."
She nodded and laughed.
I held my beer up. "To fate," I said. "She's a tricky bitch." I meant that in more ways than I could explain.
She huffed out a breath and raised her eyebrows. "That's for dang sure," she said and clinked my bottle, smiling over at me and tilting her head.
Our food came a few minutes later and Grace dove right in. "See," she said around a mouthful of chili cheese dog, "I learned from last time."
I laughed at her and dove into mine too. I could feel cheese sticking to my chin and something gloppy on the side of my mouth.
Grace put her hand over her mouth and laughed out loud, her eyes dancing. "How in the world are you not taken yet, Carson Stinger?" She laughed. I grinned at her but then the smile faded from her face and she just kept looking at me, her eyes wandering down to my mouth as I wiped it with my napkin. She licked her bottom lip and I felt my c**k jump in my pants. Fuck.
"Grace–" I started.
"Anyway!" she said brightly, crossing her legs under the table, "this was a really good idea. I need to eat more hot dogs." She stopped and furrowed her brow. "I mean, you know, you can never eat too many hot dogs." She frowned more. "I mean, you probably can. There is probably a recommended hot dog limit, but I fall too far beneath–"
I laughed out loud. "Okay, Buttercup, you can stop now," I said.
Her eyes flew to mine and her cheeks flushed pink. We stared at each other in silence for several beats before she finally whispered, "I missed that."
"Me too," I said quietly.
"Why do you call me Buttercup, Carson?" she asked quietly, her eyes growing even bigger.
I smiled slightly. "Maybe it's because you're as pretty as a flower," I said.
She stared at me for a couple beats, opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. She shook her head slightly as if clearing her mind. "Carson, I'm engaged," she said.
My jaw tensed. "Yeah, Grace, I know that."
She searched my face and then shook her head slightly and looked down again. "I'm sorry, that sounded… bitchy or something. I didn't mean to imply that you–"
"Grace," I interrupted, "it's okay. Really. I got you, all right? Let's talk about something else. I'm having a good time with you."
She nodded, smiling slightly. "Okay, thank you."
I nodded and then took another big, sloppy bite of my hot dog. She grinned and then did the same with hers.
We finished our food and the waiter came over and cleared the table. We chatted about living in Vegas for a few minutes as we each finished our beers. When the waiter came over with our bill, I paid and we started to get up to leave, putting on our coats.
"This was fun," Grace said.
I smiled at her. "Yeah, it was. I've wondered for a lot of years how you were doing and it's great to see you so happy."
She paused, smiling, but it looked strained. "I am. And same here. It's great to see you doing so well, looking so… well."
We stared at each other for a few beats and then she moved, breaking the spell. We headed for the door.
"Do you want to walk past the Bellagio fountain?" I asked her. "For old time's sake?" I smiled down at her.
She laughed. "Why not? I haven't been there since… well, you know since, you." She glanced up at me, her smile fading.
We walked in silence for a few minutes before she said, "So, Carson, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," I said, as we started across the street.
"Did you do that film that you were scheduled to do the morning after you left Vegas?" she asked quietly. I glanced at her and she lowered her eyes, but kept looking straight ahead.
I hesitated in answering her as we made it past a small group of people, and then I took her hand and pulled her to an empty spot at the edge of the stone railing looking out to Lake Bellagio.
We stopped and she pulled her hand back, staring up into my face. "I showed up," I said, in answer to her question.
Her eyes darted away from mine but when I continued with, "But I didn't follow through with the shoot. I left and I didn't come back," her eyes darted back to my face and I thought I saw her shoulders relax.
"Oh," she said. "Well that's… good."
I nodded, not breaking eye contact. God, I wanted to kiss her so badly.
"I looked up your films," she blurted out, her eyes widening.
I froze, my eyes narrowing. What. The. Fuck?
She brought her hands up to her cheeks and looked down. "I'm sorry. That was highly inappropriate to say… I–"
"Why'd you look up my films, Grace?" I asked quietly. I hated knowing that she had seen those. I hated thinking of her sitting at her computer watching me f**k other women. It made me sick. I looked away, out to the water. "Goddamn, Grace, why'd you do that?" I muttered.
A feeling that I hadn't felt in a really damn long time slithered its way through my belly–shame. I had moved past that, and so to feel it now, in front of Grace, sucked.
What did she think about me now that she had seen that? I tensed my jaw. That life felt so far away, so distant from who I was now. But Grace didn't necessarily see it that way.
"Hey," she said, leaning her head to the side to get my attention. I turned back toward her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. It was so long ago, and–"
"Why did you do it?" I asked, trying to relax.
She shook her head slightly. "At the time, I guess I just needed a reminder about why I shouldn't contact you," she said, her eyes filling with sadness.
I breathed out harshly and turned to face her fully. "Did you miss me?" I asked.
She nodded. "So much, Carson," she said softly.
"Me too," I said quietly back. "It's why I came to see you before I shipped out. I wanted to tell you."
She smiled sadly and opened her mouth to say something when a collective "Oooh" sounded from the group around us and the water show started.
We stood watching it for several minutes and then I moved closer to Grace, our sides barely touching, but the heat of her felt like it was scorching me, moving through me, taking me over. I wanted to move behind her and hold her in my arms like I had the last time we were here. And then I wanted to take her back to my house and–I slammed the brakes on that line of thought. It was only going to lead to pain on several different levels, most notably at the moment, a serious case of blue balls.
She looked up at me and our eyes met, something electric passing between us. She moved back quickly as if she'd been jolted and sucked in a breath. "We should go," she said.
"It's not over," I said back quietly.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly as we drank each other in. I gestured my head toward the water. "The show," I said quietly.
She blinked as if coming out of a trance. "I… I work early. I should… get home…" she trailed off.
I looked at her for another few seconds. "Okay," I said, turning and leading her through the light crowd of people still watching the water.
We walked back to my truck, and I held the door open for her and took her hand to help her climb inside. Another rush of warmth passed through our hands and she glanced down at me quickly, her lips parting slightly. She pulled her hand away and got inside. I walked around to my side and got in and started the engine.
I exited the garage and started driving back toward Summerlin. We were both quiet, thinking our own thoughts. The lines of Grace's body looked tense in my peripheral vision. It was clear that we still had the same chemistry we'd had the last time we were together. I wanted to see her again. But how was that supposed to happen exactly? I hadn't asked a lot about her fiancé, but I figured although he might accept one dinner out with an "old friend," he'd probably question two. He'd also probably frown upon me kissing his fiancé up against the door of her house when I dropped her off. But I had gotten a few signals that, fiancé or not, Grace might not be completely opposed to that–at least not physically. Need was pumping through my blood and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.
The ride went quickly as we both watched the scenery go by out the window. As I pulled in to Summerlin, I glanced at Grace and she was chewing on her lip again.
"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly. The mood between us had shifted.
She was silent for a minute before she said, "It's probably better if we don't see each other again."
"Better for whom?" I asked, a mixture of anger and fear filling my chest.
She looked at me. I could just make out her tense facial expression in the dark cab. I pulled up in front of her house and kept the engine idling.
"Better for me," she said. "Spending time with you tonight, it's brought up…" she trailed off.
"Brought up what, Grace?" I asked quietly, moving closer to her, her words making the anxiety in my chest fade slightly, hope taking over.
She closed her eyes for a couple beats. "Don't."
I stopped. "Don't what?"
Her eyes opened and we stared at each other. "Just don't," she whispered.
"Call it off, Grace," I ground out, suddenly filled with intense possessiveness and purpose. Why would fate bring us back together only to have us part a second time? I didn't want to say goodbye to her again. There were reasons I should, I knew that. But all the reasons other than her damn fiancé seemed far away and unimportant.
She choked out a bitter sounding laugh. "Call it off?" she repeated.
"Yes, your engagement, call it off," I said, moving in closer and putting my hand on the back of her neck and pulling her face in to mine. Her eyes moved down to my lips.
"Stop," she whispered, sounding desperate, her voice cracking.
I froze and then moved back, letting go of her neck. Her eyes flew up to mine and a small sound came up from her throat right before she thrust her face into mine, taking her own hand and wrapping it around the back of my neck to pull me in closer. Our lips connected and a shuddery sigh passed between us. I had no idea who it originated from. All I knew was that the mixture of lust and relief that flooded through me at the feel of her mouth on mine, was so intense that my whole body vibrated with it.
She slipped her tongue into my mouth first as she scooted closer to me so that our chests were pressed together too. I swallowed the sexy sounds she made as our tongues met and tangled, tasting each other, stroking, and caressing. I re-familiarized myself with the taste of her, the feel of her mouth moving on mine, the tiny sounds she made. God, I had missed this, everything about her, everything–
She pulled back on a small sob. "This isn't right. I knew you were going to do this to me," she said, her voice breaking.
I was silent for a second, gathering myself, anger filling my chest. "Do this to you?" I asked. "Buttercup, I think you were the one who jumped me."
Her head whipped up, her eyes narrowing. "I… you! I…" she made a frustrated sound of anger in her throat and started reaching for the door of the cab.
I reached out and grabbed her hand. "Call it off," I repeated again, only this time I said it quietly, as gently as possible.
She stared at me for a couple beats, threw the door open and fled inside her house. I watched her door close behind her.
I started up my truck and roared off. "Fuck!" I yelled. That had not gone well.
CHAPTER 25
Grace
I slammed the door to my house behind me and took a deep, shuddery breath. That had not gone well. The worst part was that it had gone well for a while there. I had had fun with him. I had laughed more than I had in a long time. But then that damn sexual tension slipped in and ruined everything. How had I even doubted that it would? This was Carson Fucking Stinger I was talking about here. I had duped myself again because I wanted to go out to dinner with him. I was such an idiot. And I had kissed him. Oh my God. That was cheating. I had cheated on Alex. And Carson was right, it had been me who jumped on him. I had told him to stop and he had, and then the stark disappointment that had filled me was so intense that I practically attacked him–as if I was suffocating and his mouth contained life saving air. I let out a sob.